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dxxdhood · 4 months ago

Text

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

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

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

wc: 3.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hang-out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

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

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

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

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

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

“We do?”

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

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

“And why’s that?”

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

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

“You say that, but…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

“When I get to feel.”

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

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

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

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

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

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

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

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

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

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

“Thank–”

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

#deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool smut #wade wilson smut #deadpool x reader #deadpool x gn! reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x gn! reader #marvel #marvel smut #dom reader #sub character #gn reader #smut #deadpool x you #wade wilson x you

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spicymancer · 2 months ago

Note

If the Actirangers are the Five Man Band trope, what roles would they all fill? Obviously Blue is the Big Guy, and I feel like Grey is the Lancer. (Haha) But who would everyone else be?

(If you don’t know what I’m talking about, much apologies and I highly recommend Overly Sarcastic Productions’ video on the five man band)

"You merely adopted the TVTropes; I was born in it, molded by it...!"

*cough* Sorry yes, I am familiar! The Actirangers obviously follow the Super Sentai / Power Rangers archetypes but if we were to slot them into classic tropes:

Red: Leader Red is probably the simplest member of the gang and the one who most reflects his archetypical role as the Paragon, generically good heroic guy. A Captain America-esque baseball captain figure in the team. I should probably flesh him out more tbh. Green: Lancer (loyal) / Smart Guy Green is Red's second in command, and she's more sardonic in contrast to Red's earnest character. Green is heavily inspired by Garrus from Mass Effect and Zoe from Firefly. A steady, focused and competent lieutenant. Blue: Big Guy / The Heart Blue is leaning more into the gentle-giant style big guy, befitting a Hockey Goalie. Probably no small amount of Grin from The Mighty Ducks cartoon and Broadway from Gargoyles. I think he's the kind of person who's often underestimated. His kindness makes people assume he's foolish, and his gentleness makes people assume he's soft. And he can be a soft fool, it's only when he wants to be.

Pink: Lancer (foil) / Token Evil Teammate Pink is probably the character I center most of my own mental energy around. "Token Evil Teammate" is probably a little excessive, but she's probably the Ranger who's most willing to fight hard and is the meanest of the group in general. She's rich, angry, and working on it. She's the sort of person who struggles with loneliness even when surrounded by people who care about her due to her own self-isolating mental baggage. Her story (insofar as the Actirangers have a story) is about working through that. Yellow: Plucky Comic Relief / The Heart Yellow is just having a good time. She's the sort of friend who doesn't really occupy a specific role in the group but is happy to support anything that needs doing. She isn't the type to worry overmuch about the future and firmly believes everything will work out.

Gray is obviously the Sixth Ranger, and as of yet isn't really part of the core band. He's the resident angsty boy of the cast. Shadow the Hedgehog, Prince Zuko, etc. A little overdramatic and a little bit of an edgelord but please forgive him, he's still figuring himself out.

Pawnathan might also count as a Cowardly Sidekick? I dunno he's doing his best.

#oc art #oc questions #actirangers

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pure-smut · 4 months ago

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sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

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#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyou x you #hinata shouyou x y/n #hinata souyou smut

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tofixtheshadows · 7 months ago

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This is one of my favorite minor details in Dungeon Meshi, firstly because what in the femme fatale, but also because it's one of those little things that raises so many questions about worldbuilding.

The Occam's Razor defense attorney in me says that Ryoko Kui gave Kabru a boot knife because she wanted him to escape from his bonds here. And Kabru is a very competent swordsman, why wouldn't he have a boot knife, sure. He's already got a dagger, he can have this too.

And yet: the implications. Kabru, why do you have that? That is not remotely something that could be easily accessed or used in combat. Nobody is pulling out a pen knife from the heel of their boot during a fight with a monster. It's useless in the dungeon ... unless you're the type of person who isn't just worried about monsters.

I've mentioned this before, but I consider one of Kabru's functions in the narrative as being the character who fully brings the idea of human ecosystems into the story. There's a reason why he's always connected to large groups of people (Toshiro's party, the Canaries). He (along with Mr. Tansu, briefly) introduces the reader to the social and political forces working on the dungeon, showing us that none of this is happening in a monster-filled vacuum. His confrontation with the corpse retrievers, who very nearly kill Kabru's party permanently with their reckless murder-for-money scheme, reminds us that monsters are not the only things that prey on humans. Kabru understands the ways the dungeon causes people to put profit over human lives.

We only get hints of it in the story, but like any gold-rush-style economic boom, it's implied that there is a lot of crime and corruption surrounding the dungeon.

So yeah, it really makes me wonder why Kabru keeps a tiny knife in his boot, meant to be carried on him even in situations where he would otherwise be unarmed. Stored exactly in the place where it's easy to reach, even if, for some reason, your hands are tied behind your back.

#Dungeon Meshi spoilers #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #using that tag even though I'm ethically opposed. it's fine #dungeonposting #musings with Dea #btw I'm genuinely not trying to imply anything weird here I really do think Kabru has Seen Some Shit #Kabru and his pre-canon pseudo-espionage lifestyle #this was supposed to be??? more of a joking post? but I talk too much #I mean I'm only thinking about it because it IS funny. Kabru. what the hell do you get up to in your spare time.#he didn't even stop to think 'oh no what do I do'#he was just like 'good thing I have a knife in my boot'#even if this was his first time being tied up it just makes me feel like he was prepared for this kind of danger #maybe Milsiril taught him this too

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lassieposting · 1 year ago

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Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 meta #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #mom said it's my turn to project on the blorbo #astarion ancunin

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago

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Aegon bathing and asking his wife to join him

It's been so long since I posted anything about HotD. Have you seen the trailers? I'm so excited for the new season!! This one has been in my wips for a long time, but I kicked myself to finish it today to celebrate the upcoming season

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You entered the ensuite of your and Aegon’s shared bedchamber, hair unpinned and cascading down your back. Outside your quarters, they were always pinned into a braided hairstyle, concealing their true length to the court’s eyes. It’s good to have a distinction between the way a lady presents herself to the people and what is only for her husband’s eyes. Your day dress was replaced by an emerald green silk robe with dainty broderies along the lapels, a gift from the queen, given to you on your and Aegon’s wedding day. It was beautiful.

‘’There you are,’’ you said, seeing Aegon in the tub, steam rising from the scalding hot water.

His eyes shifted to you, the corner of his mouth curling when they fell on your attire. He poured more wine into his cup, splashing some water over the side of the tub due to the movements. ‘’My wife is a sight for sore eyes.’’

His speech wasn’t slurred, but it would soon be if he continued drinking.

You offered him a soft smile in response to his compliment. ‘’And my husband is about to be drunk.’’

Aegon grinned. ‘’I’m perfectly sober.’’

You shook your head as you approached, then sat on the stool by the tub as he bathed. ‘’If you’re sober, why is this pitcher almost empty?’’

Aegon laughed. He was caught.

‘’Will you be joining me in the bath?’’

He wished he could spend every night of his life just like this — just you and him, alone with one another. No more worrying about his duties as first son of the king and heir of the throne. No more worried about needing to produce heirs. Neither of you were ready to raise children, but his mother kept making subtle hints that a babe was needed soon.

‘’It depends.’’

Aegon leaned back in the tub and took another sip of wine, enjoying the warmth enveloping his body. ‘’I wouldn't mind some company,’’ he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, standing up and untying the sash of your robe. Under, you had on a nightgown made of the same material, but in a lighter shade. It had delicate thin straps and almost touched the floor. You until the ties of the straps and stepped out of the nightgown, which made Aegon’s mouth curl into a smirk.

Carefully, you stepped into the tub and lowered yourself to sit opposite him.

Aegon's gaze lingered on you, grateful that you were his. To his eyes, there was no woman more beautiful than you. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your ankles, pulling your feet closer to him until they rested against his thighs.

Before getting wed, you had heard the whispers at court about how Aegon wouldn’t make a great husband. How he could never be faithful to his wife as he was always frequenting brothels and sleeping around. How cold he was emotionally.

He wasn’t like that with you. Everything that had been said turned out to be wrong.

‘’How long can we stay here?’’ he asked, his fingers tracing patterns along your calves.

You smiled at his touch, allowing yourself to relax. Despite the rumors and whispers that had surrounded him, you knew the truth — Aegon was kind, caring, and fiercely devoted to you. No one could compete with your beauty. He also had a dirty mind and a slight drinking problem, but you knew how to deal with him.

‘’As long as we want,’’ you replied, running your fingers through the water. ‘’We are not expected anywhere until the morrow.’’

Aegon sighed. He hated duty. ‘’Sometimes, I dream of a life where we can be together like this, without the weight of our titles pressing down on us. A life where we can choose our own path, without the expectations of others. I…I don’t want to be king. Unfortunately, my whole future has been planned before I knew how to speak.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon targaryen

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year ago

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Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent.

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried.

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown.

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’.

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on.

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him.

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance.

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air.

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears.

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #red robin #cult summoning but it's just your homies #jazz fenton #john constantine #justice league dark

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espresso1patronum · 6 days ago

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i'd die for you, baby

f1 racer megumi fushiguro! x f!reader

synopsis: you and megumi had been dating for nearly an year, and he was everything you had ever wished for in a boyfriend—kind, supportive, and endlessly sweet. on top of that, he was one of the best f1 racers in the world, renowned for his incredible skill and charm. however, as his fame skyrocketed, so did your fears of losing him. his schedule was jam-packed with races, interviews, and promotional events, leaving little time for the two of you. despite his efforts to carve out moments together, it often felt like you were competing for his attention against the demands of his career. you couldn’t shake the feeling that the distance between you was growing, clouded by misunderstandings and the pressures of his lifestyle. just when you thought you had a handle on things, a series of miscommunications and unexpected events unfolded, threatening to unravel everything you’d built together.

cw: mdni, afab!reader, aged up characters, fluff, ANGST with comfort ending, cursing, JEALOUS and angry gumi, megumi is REALLYYY possessive and protective, smut!, nsfw content, pussy eating, dominant af megumi, megumi is freakyyy hehe

wc: 9.4k -gimme a chance :(

a/n: this is gonna be cute, i swear.

divider cred: @cafekitsune tysm<3

you hadn't seen your boyfriend in days, and the concern for him had started to grow. but what could you do? he was one of the top f1 racers in the world, constantly on the move, always focused on the next race.

sometimes, it still seemed unreal that megumi fushiguro—the same enigmatic, effortlessly cool man—was your boyfriend. you were just a regular girl, and here he was, a living legend, the epitome of calm, collected mystery. how had this even happened? how had he fallen for you? those were the questions that often lingered in your mind, no matter how much he insisted that you stop overthinking. he was the best at everything, but somehow, he had chosen you.

you dialed your boyfriend’s number, only for it to go straight to voicemail. then it hit you—he must be tied up with a sponsor deal today. he had a busy schedule, and you knew these commitments often meant no time for calls or texts.

you remember the first time you met him like it was yesterday. your brother had dragged you to one of his races and even managed to get the after party tickets. you were sipping on a drink, trying to blend into the crowd of flashy celebrities and sponsors when you first saw him—megumi fushiguro. he stood at the far end of the room, surrounded by people, but even in that sea of faces, he somehow stood out. you’d never seen someone so effortlessly cool, so... handsome. his dark hair was tousled just right, and his sharp, mysterious eyes scanned the room with a quiet intensity that made your pulse quicken.

and that's how you met him. he was known for being aloof and rude with people, but when you had asked him for a picture, you saw a faint smile on his face and he agreed. somehow, you found yourself talking to him for hours, and by the end of the night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d met the kind of guy you only read about in books. little did you know, that chance encounter would change everything.

you had just returned from college, exhaustion weighing you down, and you practically collapsed onto your unmade bed, letting out a heavy sigh. your mind was still buzzing from the day’s classes, but before you could settle into the comfort of your messy room, your phone rang. the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat—megumi.

you quickly answered, trying to push away the feeling of longing that always rushed over you when you heard his voice. "love, are you alright? are you eating well? you called earlier, so i got concerned." his words were soft but laced with genuine worry.

for a split second, you wanted to laugh—or maybe cry. how could he possibly be concerned about you? he had been the one running himself ragged, hopping from one race to the next, barely getting a moment to breathe. and yet here he was, acting like you were the one who needed to be taken care of.

you bit your lip, trying to keep the frustration at bay. "gumi, how are you? you’ve been going back and forth for the last two weeks. i barely get a chance to hear from you, and now you're worried about me?"

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then you could almost hear him chuckling, though it was tinged with exhaustion. "i’m fine," he said, his voice steady but with a hint of something vulnerable underneath. "i just worry about you. i don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself when i’m not there."

you almost wanted to slap him for being so selfless, so completely megumi. but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. he was always worried about you, even when he had every right to be focused on himself.

"you're impossible," you muttered, but your heart was softening. "i’m fine. just tired. but i’ll be alright."

there was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice lower, more serious now. "i’ll make it up to you when i’m back. i promise."

"gumi, i miss you. when will you be back?" you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them. it had been so long since you’d seen him, and the emptiness in your chest had only grown with each passing day. you had gotten used to the calls, the texts, but it wasn’t the same as having him there beside you.

he chuckled softly on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you could almost picture that small, half-smile of his. "i don't know, baby," he said. "but i promise, it'll be pretty soon."

you sighed, the sound filled with both longing and a little bit of frustration. "i just… i need you here," you admitted, not caring if it sounded too vulnerable. it was true. you missed him more than you wanted to admit, and every day without him felt like an eternity.

"i know, love," he said, his voice softening. "i miss you too. but i’ll be back before you know it, okay? just a little longer."

the next day was pretty typical. you went through your usual routine—attending your classes, zoning out during lectures, and checking your phone more often than you should have, hoping for a message from megumi. just as you were gathering your things, preparing to leave, one of your friends pulled you aside.

“hey, someone’s waiting for you in the parking lot,” she said with a sly smile, her eyebrows waggling in that way that made you curious and a little suspicious. “a special delivery, maybe?”

you frowned, wondering who could possibly be waiting for you, but you didn’t have time to ask further. you thanked her and made your way out.

as you walked to the parking lot, your mind raced with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you turned the corner.

there, parked under the fading afternoon sun, was a sleek, shiny black ferrari—a car you knew all too well. your heart skipped a beat as you saw him leaning casually against it, looking like he had just stepped out of a magazine cover.

megumi.

he looked up as you approached, a small, knowing smile spreading across his face. it was that smile, the one that always made your heart flutter, the one that meant he had a surprise up his sleeve. before you could even process what was happening, your legs were moving on their own, and you were running toward him.

he caught you easily, lifting you off the ground in an embrace that felt like a weight you didn’t even know you were carrying was finally lifted. you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the familiar scent of him, feeling the warmth of his presence that you had missed so much.

"surprise?" he murmured into your ear.

you laughed, feeling a mix of shock and pure happiness. "what are you doing here? i didn’t expect you for days," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, still trying to process the sudden appearance of your boyfriend.

"well," he began, his fingers brushing through your hair as he set you down gently, "i couldn’t stay away any longer. i thought i'd surprise you. you looked like you needed one."

you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face as you stood there, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

"let’s go on a date," he said suddenly, his voice light and playful, but there was something in his eyes that made you think he was serious.

before you could say anything, he reached for your bag, effortlessly lifting it and tossing it into the backseat of the ferrari. then, with a small nod, he opened the car door for you, waiting for you to get in.

"like, right now?" you asked, surprised and a little breathless. you hadn’t even thought about anything beyond his unexpected appearance.

he gave a casual shrug, his usual cool demeanor in place. “yes. unless that’s a problem for you,” he teased, as he glanced down at you.

you blinked, your surprise melting into a soft laugh. a date with him? now? how could you say no to that? you shook your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "no, no problem at all. let’s go."

as megumi slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, he glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he leaned over and gently tugged the seatbelt across your lap, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did. It was a simple touch, but one that made your heart flutter all the same.

"where’d you wanna go?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

you couldn’t help the cute little smile that spread across your face as you looked at him. “umm, anywhere... with you," you said sweetly, your voice carrying the honesty of how you truly felt.

megumi’s eyes softened, and for a split second, you saw that rare vulnerability in him. your smile—that smile—always did this to him. it was like it had the power to completely melt him, to make him forget everything except the fact that he was with you. his lips curved into a smile that was a little more than just a playful expression—it was genuine, and it was full of affection.

for a moment, the car was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the rush of wind outside. then, megumi’s voice broke the silence, low and almost... hesitant.

"you know," he said, his gaze still focused on the road ahead, though his hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "i’ve missed you so much. these last few days without you... i couldn’t even sleep."

his words caught you off guard, and your heart softened in your chest. you knew how demanding his schedule was, how much he had to sacrifice for his career, but hearing him admit how much he’d missed you, how much he struggled without you—it meant more than you could put into words.

you reached over, placing your hand gently on his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i missed you too, gumi," you said softly. he turned his head toward you for a brief moment, his eyes meeting yours, and you could see it—the way his entire expression softened just for you, like he was holding onto this moment with everything he had. for him, you were the purest thing in his world, the one constant in the whirlwind of his life.

you decided to go to an icecream parlor. "what flavor did you get?" you asked megumi while taking a spoonful of your icecream and savouring it.

he glanced at his cup and replied, "mint choco. what about you, baby?"

"i got strawberry!" you exclaimed bouncing a little with excitement. megumi chuckled softly, the kind of smile only you could bring out of him. "idiot," he murmured.

"want a taste?" his voice was low, teasing, as he dipped the spoon into the ice cream, the creamy swirl catching the light. he brought it to his lips, tasting it slowly before pulling you toward him. his mouth met yours in a kiss, the sweet chill of the dessert mixing with the warmth of his touch.

you gasped as his lips curved into a smile against yours, the sweetness of the ice cream still lingering between you. the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine as he deepened the kiss, the world outside of this moment fading into nothing. his hand slowly trailed down your thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. you gasped as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, his kiss deep and possessive. you were lost in the moment, responding to him with equal passion and surrendering completely to his touch.

megumi's phone rang, piercing the air and bringing your intimate moment to an abrupt halt. "fuck," he muttered a curse under his breath, clearly annoyed at the interruption. you spoke up, reminding him that it could be urgent. "mmh- gumi, it could be important." but he brushed it off, his attention still fixed on you.

"nothing's more important than you, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. but the persistent ringing eventually got the better of him, and he reluctantly picked up the phone, his gaze still fixed on you.

it was gojo, his manager, on the other end of the line. megumi picked up the call, his expression frustrated. "yeah- uh huh. tomorrow? ok, fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he hung up.

you looked at him, concern etched on your face. "what happened, gumi?" you asked, your eyes fixed on him.

megumi's hand still lingered on your cheek, his touch gentle and soothing. "got a race tomorrow, baby," he replied, his exhaustion apparent.

"what? you're just back, and they're making you race again?" you asked.

megumi sighed, his weariness apparent in the weary slope of his shoulders. "i know, but it's important for the season," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

you looked at him, your eyes filled with worry. "but you're not even rested properly," you said, your voice laced with concern.

megumi shrugged, his gaze fixing on you. "i'll be fine," he said, a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

you knew he wasn't fine. after all, how could he be? all he was doing for the past two weeks was races, interviews, press conferences, sponsors and what not! he was very successful, yes, but this only came in the way of your relationship. it had happened before, ofcourse. but this time seemed a little too much.

you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, your pretty plump lips lightly brushing his skin. megumi couldn't help but smile. he adored these little moments with you, when you showed your tenderness and reminded him of how much he cared for you.

every little thing you did had an effect on him. your mere presence was enough to make him smile, and seeing you in this caring and loving state made his heart race in his chest. he wanted to spend all his time with only you. you were the only one he thought about during his restless days and nights. you were the only drivin force that encouraged him to keep going and trying.

megumi was notorious for being aloof and rude to the people who surrounded him, because he was often misunderstood. his good looks had earned him hordes of fangirls, but none of them truly knew who he was. you, however, were different. you were the only girl who saw through his so-called tough exterior and loved him for who he was, flaws and all. and because of that, he loved you more than anything.

the next day arrived—the day of his race. you couldn't shake the anticipation, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you made your way to the track. you slipped into the locker room, your heartbeat quickening. the air was thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation, but none of that mattered when you saw him step out.

megumi appeared like a vision in the doorway, dressed in his red and black racing suit. the colors clung to his athletic frame, accentuating every sharp line and smooth curve. in his hand, he held his helmet, the sleek visor reflecting the harsh overhead lights. for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. the world narrowed down to just him—magnificent, confident, untouchable.

your breath caught in your throat. Is it even legal to look this good? you thought, unable to tear your eyes away. it was almost criminal, the way his presence filled the room, his aura commanding attention without uttering a single word.

he looked at you, his lips curling into a grin as he took in the sight of you standing there, frozen in admiration. "y/n, you're here," he said, his voice warm with a hint of surprise, though it was clear he wasn’t exactly shocked to see his girlfriend.

you blinked, momentarily speechless, before you blurted out without thinking, “yes, and omg, I think I’m falling for you again, gumi.” the words hung in the air, a little too loud, a little too honest.

the chuckle that followed made your stomach do a little flip. “falling for me again, huh?” he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement.

before you could even form a response, his hands were on your waist, pulling you effortlessly closer. his touch was warm, strong, and it sent a jolt straight through you, making you freeze in place. his gaze dropped to your lips for just a moment, then back to your eyes.

"you like what you see, baby?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper.

your cheeks heated up in response, his closeness sending shivers down your spine. "you can't say things like that while holding me like this!" you protested, trying to hide the effect he had on you.

"oh, you like this?" he asked. and damn, did that make you feel things.

you blushed, a slight pink creeping up your cheeks.

why were you so adorable? he thought.

just then, his manager gojo burst into the room, interrupting your intimate moment. he immediately took notice of your close embrace. he smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"ahh, lovebirds!" he teased.

megumi rolled his eyes at gojo's comment and grumbled, "shut up and get out."

gojo chuckled, still not leaving. "just reminding you, get your ass ready in five," he said, winking at you before he finally closed the door, leaving you alone with Megumi once again.

you knelt down in front of him, your hands steady as you carefully tied his shoe laces.

but then, as you tightened the knot on his laces, your gaze drifted upward, and that's when you noticed it: a cast wrapped around his left leg. it was subtle, barely noticeable beneath the fabric of his pants, but it was there. your heart skipped a beat.

“gumi, what is this?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes tracing the cast as if it might somehow explain itself. he froze for a split second, his expression flickering with something unreadable before he quickly regained his usual easygoing demeanor. his smile was a little too smooth, too reassuring, but you weren't fooled.

“it’s nothing, baby, really. nothing to worry about,” he said, the words coming out too quickly, like he was trying to brush it off before you could press further. you raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "are you sure? you never told me you got hurt, did you—"

before you could finish, he cut you off, his voice a little sharper than usual. "yes, i’m fine. i just couldn’t tell you because I was really busy, alright? i’ll tell you if i get hurt again, i promise."

but you weren’t ready to let it go. you frowned, looking up at him with concern in your eyes. “what happened?”

he hesitated for a brief moment, and in that pause, you saw a flicker of something—regret? guilt?—before he sighed and looked away. “i—i just slipped on the stairs,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the explanation was something he’d rather not say out loud.

you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest. stairs? that didn’t sound right, not for someone like him, someone who was always so careful, so composed. it wasn’t like him to let something like that slide. but he was already reaching for his helmet, the cool, silver surface catching the light as he lifted it into his hand, clearly signaling the conversation was over.

“i need to go, baby,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle urgency. his hand cupped your cheek for a brief moment, his thumb brushing over your skin in that tender, familiar way. then, without another word, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

you found yourself in the exclusive bio section of the stands, surrounded by the hum of excitement and the palpable energy of the crowd. from here, the entire stadium stretched out before you—massive, overwhelming, and alive with anticipation. the sound of the crowd was deafening, a constant roar that sent shivers down your spine. you hadn’t realized just how big this event was until now. it wasn’t just a race; it was a spectacle, a culmination of everything megumi had been working for.

for the past two weeks, he had been pushing himself relentlessly, practicing, fine-tuning every part of his routine. you could hear it in his voice when he’d call you—tired, drained, but always determined. the pressure of coming first, of being the best was heavy, but he never showed it. not to you. not until now.

the tension in the air thickened as the stadium lights dimmed slightly, and the commentators' voices boomed over the loudspeakers, amplified by the vastness of the arena. you heard a familiar name ring out—megumi fushiguro—and just like that, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, a wave of sound crashing over you.

“megumi fushiguro!” the commentator's voice was loud, clear, and electric, his excitement rising to match the crowd’s. "one of the most consistent drivers this season, and he's definitely a favorite to win today!"

you could hear the way the announcer dragged the name out with that signature flair, the way they pronounced it with such reverence and energy that it felt like the entire world was watching. megumi fushiguro. it sounded different when they said it—more like a title, a legacy in the making.

your heart skipped a beat as the crowd’s roar hit its peak, a mix of excitement, adrenaline, and the collective hope of everyone in this stadium. this wasn’t just a race—it was the race, the one he’d been working toward for so long.

you glanced down at the pit, catching a glimpse of him—dressed in his red and black suit, his face a mask of focus, as he climbed into his car. the helmet gleamed under the lights, but you could still see the determination in his posture, the way he moved with precision, as if every motion had been practiced to perfection. the weight of all those expectations, of everything riding on this one moment, seemed to settle on his shoulders, but he carried it with ease.

as the final seconds of the countdown ticked away, megumi’s gaze swept over the vip section, his eyes scanning the crowd. for a moment, everything seemed to slow down, as if the world held its breath. then, his eyes landed on you.

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, barely visible under his helmet. but then, to your surprise, he did something you never thought he’d do—he lifted his hands in front of his chest and made a heart. right there, in front of thousands of people, in the heat of the moment, megumi fushiguro—the calm, composed, always-in-control driver—was making a heart with his hands just for you.

your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of warmth and disbelief rushing through you. you knew him too well. megumi, the guy who would never be caught doing something so cheesy or public. but for you? he’d make that heart. he’d do whatever it took to let you know, even without saying the words, that you were on his mind.

a soft laugh bubbled in your throat, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your fingers instinctively touching your lips as if to seal the moment. it was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. you knew—deep down—that no matter how tough or reserved he appeared, when it came to you, he’d break his own rules.

the crowd around you was still buzzing, oblivious to the quiet exchange between the two of you. but it didn’t matter. in that instant, you felt like you were the only one in the stadium, connected to him in a way no one else could understand.

as he turned back to focus on the race ahead, his posture straightened, his usual intensity returning. but a small piece of his heart was still with you, tucked away behind that mask of determination. you knew it, and somehow, he knew you knew it.

three, two, one, go! the gunshot echoed across the track, and the racers shot forward like arrows released from a bow. the roar of engines filled the air, harmonizing with the cheers of the crowd. among the vibrant sea of cars, megumi surged ahead at the front, steering his sleek red bull rb19 with precision and skill. the sun glinted off the polished metal, casting dazzling reflections as he navigated the first straightaway with remarkable speed.

the commentators voice boomed through the speakers, “we see the great megumi fushiguro from japan leading the rbr team as he pulls the car into a great curve!” the tires squealed against the asphalt, gripping the track as megumi expertly controlled the drift, leaning into the turn with the confidence of a seasoned pro.

you watched from the sidelines, your heart racing in sync with the roar of the engines. you bit your lip, nerves gnawing at you. this win meant everything—if megumi clinched the victory today, he would break into the top three drivers in the world, a dream he had chased relentlessly. the stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable.

as he exited the curve, megumi glanced in his rearview mirror, assessing the competition closing in behind him. the other drivers were fierce, but the felt the weight of every heartbeat, the way you supported him and you cheering him on propelled him forward. he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. the championship was within reach, and he was determined to seize it.

as the final lap approached, adrenaline surged through your veins. you clenched your fists, your thoughts racing alongside him. you believed in him, and he needed to believe in himself. megumi had worked too hard to let anything distract him now. the finish line loomed ahead, and with one last push, he entered the final turn, the tires screeching as he navigated it flawlessly.

the finish line was in sight. you held your breath, watching as megumi accelerated out of the curve, his car darting forward like a bolt of lightning. this was it. the moment of truth. would he achieve his dream? would he secure a place among the world’s elite?

with the roar of the crowd reaching a fever pitch, megumi crossed the finish line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air. he did it! the world watched as he celebrated his hard-fought victory, a smile breaking through the intensity of the race, knowing that he had not just raced to the finish, but had also secured his place in history.

you jumped up and squealed in excitement. he wasn't an ordinary racer. he was the season's best. perhaps even one of the top racers of the decade. you could feel it now. the amount of both love and hate he'd be recieving after this. the tight packed schedules waiting for him. fuck. you were supposed to feel good and proud about this. you were, but how could you celebrate properly if you knew that him winning this meant no time for the both of you. sometimes his lifestyle was a bit too much for you. am i demanding too much of attention and love from him? you wondered.

the commentator’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers, “megumi fushiguro takes the win!” you ran towards the racecourse, your heart pounding. the moment you reached him, megumi yanked off his helmet, and in one swift motion, pulled you into his arms.

before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you off the ground in a tight embrace.

"i'm so proud of you, gumi," you whispered into his ear. "you won this."

a soft chuckle vibrated in his chest as he set you back on your feet, but his eyes never left yours, warm and sincere. “no," he said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in his body. "i didn’t win this. we won this together. i could’ve never done this without you."

your heart skipped a beat at his words. you gently pressed a kiss against his cheek. his cheeks flushed slightly as he looked away. "stop being so damn adorable," he murmured as you chuckled at his flustered state.

just then he was called for the conference. "i"ll be back, alright?" he said as you nodded.

the camera zoomed in as the interviewer grinned, holding the mic out toward megumi, who had just finished a whirlwind victory lap.

“so, how was the race?” the interviewer asked, his voice sharp with curiosity.

megumi let out a slow, tired sigh, his fingers still curled around the edge of his helmet. “pretty electric,” he replied. “it was fun, honestly. the other racers did amazing as well. everyone pushed themselves to the limit.”

the interviewer nodded, clearly impressed by megumi’s calm demeanor, before pressing on with another question. “yeah, what about you?” he leaned in slightly, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “even after your accident a week ago, you drove like nothing happened. how’s your left leg now? it was a big hit, wasn’t it?”

what accident? you thought.

he shrugged, his voice low but steady. “it was a big hit. i won’t lie, there were moments last week where i didn’t know if i'd even be able to race today. but… well,” he shifted on his feet, cracking a small smile, “it’s nothing a little determination and a lot of rest couldn’t fix. and honestly, once I got behind the wheel, i didn’t think about it at all.”

the interviewer raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “so you’re saying you didn’t feel any pain out there?”

megumi’s lips quirked, just barely. “pain’s just another obstacle. if i let it control me, i wouldn’t be racing at all. so i focused on the road, the cars, and—”

he went on.

your mind went blank. how could he lie about being injured? why did he lie to you? why did he say that he tripped down the stairs when he clearly suffered a major injury from an accident? why did he not inform you about this?

the interviewer gave a final cheerful wave, his voice ringing out as he called, “okay then, we’ll catch you later, superstar!” megumi returned the gesture with a small, easy smile before turning to walk back toward you.

but the moment he approached, he froze. his eyes widened when he saw the tears silently streaming down your face. his breath hitched, a flicker of panic crossing his features.

“baby-” he started, but he was cut off as you turned sharply, not letting him finish. he quickly stepped forward, concern flooding his expression. “wait, what happened—?”

you yanked your hand away from his as his fingers brushed against your arm. the gesture was sharp, defensive, and his confusion deepened. “how could you?” your voice trembled.

megumi blinked, clearly struggling to process. “what—?” he started again, his voice quiet, trying to reach you.

“how could you lie to me about your injury?” you stared at him, your tears betraying the pain you felt. “you promised me, gumi… you promised you’d be honest.”

“you could’ve told me about this big injury,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over. “i would've come. i would've—"

"i didn’t want you to worry about me, that’s why,” he interrupted, his voice strained and exhausted. he could see the hurt in your eyes, but the words just kept spilling out, the frustration he’d been holding in finally breaking free.

“but still—” your voice quivered with emotion, desperate to make him understand. “i care about you a lot. i’m your girlfriend. you could’ve told me. you were tired and—”

you were cut off when his voice, sharp and raw, filled the space between you. “don’t you see it? you’re always too worried about me. you always blabber about me this, me that. i’ll take care of myself alone for some time, alright? just stop nagging me all the time!”

the words hit you like a physical blow. your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, hot tears were streaming down your precious little face—uncontrolled, like a waterfall. how could he say that? how could he hurt you like that?

for a moment, megumi stood frozen, the weight of his own words slowly sinking in. he watched as your tears fell, his own chest tightening, realizing too late the damage he’d just done.

his voice cracked with regret. “i’m really sorry, baby… i don’t know why i said all that—”

but you shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping you as you wiped your eyes. “forget it,” you said, the coldness in your voice so unlike anything he’d ever heard from you. the distance between you both felt so vast now, more than just physical.

without another word, you turned and began walking away, your steps slow but resolute. every part of you wanted to look back, to see if he was following, but you didn’t. the lump in your throat was too big, and you couldn’t trust yourself not to break down entirely if you turned around.

megumi stood there, his mind racing, but his feet glued to the ground. he wanted to reach for you, to say something, anything that would make it better. but he knew, deep down, that it was too late for words now. not after what he’d said.

you did not talk to him for the next few days. as much as your heart ached and wanted to hear his voice, you just had to keep ignoring him. he felt MISERABLE. he could not bear the pain anymore. the pain that he had inflicted on you. he had seen your precious little self crying because of him. he had hurt you. he hated himself for that. though he did call and text you, you'd always reply dryly. no "gumi", or "baby". you just replied with a simple "hello" and "bye megumi". this was driving him insane.

you were in your bedroom listening to your favourite song while reading a book. oh, did you want to cuddle into his chest right now. you wanted him bad. but ofcourse, you were stubborn as hell.

you had a date that evening. not with megumi, ofcourse. your senior kashimo, had invited you to a carnival fest. you didn't turn him down. he was a good friend of yours.

you were getting ready for your date when you heard a knock on your door. you sighed, already knowing who it was. it was megumi. he stood there, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a note in the other, and your favorite chocolates tucked under his arm.

“what?” you asked, trying to hide your irritation.

“baby, please, let me come in,” he said, his voice softening as you nodded and stepped aside to let him in. you didn’t care that you were wearing the mini skirt and crop top he had gifted you, the very outfit you had chosen for your date with someone else.

“are you going somewhere pretty?” he asked, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“yeah, on a date,” you replied, a casualness to your tone that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface.

His eyes widened in disbelief. “on a date?”

“it’s just a friendly date with my senior, kashimo,” you said, trying to brush off the weight of his reaction.

he scoffed, disbelief evident in his voice. “the same guy who proposed to you last year?”

you nodded, refusing to back down. “yes, but he’s just a friend. he knows I have a boyfriend.”

megumi clenched his fists at his sides, anger flashing in his eyes. “fine, but make sure he doesn’t cross the line.”

“whatever,” you replied, the nonchalance in your voice betraying the chaos of emotions in your heart.

“whatever?” he couldn’t let that slide. “you think it’s just that easy? you’re wearing my clothes, going out with a guy who clearly wants more. this isn’t just a friendly date!”

you sighed, feeling the fight slowly drain out of you. “you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“i’m making it harder?” he took a step closer, his frustration giving way to vulnerability. “i thought you understood how much you mean to me. i thought you knew i cared.”

"tsk..." he mumbled. "just promise me you'll take care alright?" he said. you wanted to give in to him then and there. but you couldn't.

“sure, but it’s really not a big deal. i’ll be fine.” you said.

"just let me worry a little," he said smiling faintly. "i'll always worry about you."

he cared for you a lot. though you didn't say anything about what had happened between you guys the last time, he knew that you were pretty mad. he cared for you enough to give you your space, though it was very hard for him to do so.

the ferris wheel ride was surprisingly fun, and kashimo was a pretty chill guy to be stuck in a cage with. "you’re looking really pretty today, y/n," he said, eyes twinkling in the low light.

there it was. you were certain that he did not have feelings for you anymore. but him saying all this made you rethink things. maybe megumi was right and this not being just a "friendly date" for kashimo.

you blinked, caught off guard for a second. "thanks," you smiled back.

you hated that you couldn't stop thinking about megumi. why did you have to be so stubborn at the first place anyways? he was giving you an apology but you wouldn't take it. it was because you were deeply hurt. not because he didn't care for you, but because he had being a fucking jerk. an idiot who said things to his girlfriend without any regard. though he did not mean any of it, he shouldn't have let his frustration get the best of him. you were concerned for him and he yelled at you for that. you were pretty hurt.

little did you know that megumi was stalking you both. like a fucking creep. yes, he was embarrassed, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, not when you were hanging out with a guy who had feelings for you.

megumi was spying on you and kashimo as you sat there, waiting for your ice cream.

kashimo was standing a little too close—close enough that his hand brushed against your shoulder as he shifted to adjust his position. the touch was quick, almost accidental, but the heat from it lingered on your skin. you seemed quite oblivious to what just happened.

“about your boyfriend, y/n, i—” kashimo began, still really close to you.

you frowned, glancing up at him, confused. “what about him?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral, but something about the way he said it made your stomach churn.

kashimo smirked, leaning in even further as he spoke, his voice low but laced with something... almost smug. “he did amazing at the race last week.”

you nodded, a little stiff, not sure where this was going. “yeah,” you said, keeping your response short, hoping he’d drop it. but he wasn’t done.

“so... I was wondering, y/n,” he began again, his voice suddenly more hesitant, like he was testing the waters. “if you ever feel lonely… or, i don’t know, if your boyfriend is busy, you could always call me. i’m your trusty senior, after all.”

you blinked, momentarily speechless. what was he getting at? your gut twisted, but you kept your face neutral, hoping it was just some misguided attempt at humor. “um, okay? but why?”

kashimo’s smirk widened, and his next words made your heart race, but not in that way. “because… i might still have feelings for you.”

you froze.

for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. the audacity. the sheer nerve of this guy. you swallowed hard, shaking your head as if trying to shake the whole situation off. "excuse me? is that why you called me out here? to tell me that?" the words left your mouth before you could stop them, anger creeping into your voice.

kashimo’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something almost predatory in his gaze now. he took a small step closer, like he was trying to trap you in this conversation. “no, y/n. i’m here to let you know that i’m here for you. you know, with megumi being so famous now, who knows what he’s up to, if you get what i’m saying.”

the insinuation made your blood boil. you crossed your arms tightly, a scoff escaping your lips. “no, i don’t get it,” you said, your voice cold now, the tightness in your chest growing with each word. “and i thought i already made it clear to you that i don’t have feelings for you. i have a boyfriend.”

you took a deep breath, glaring up at him, not backing down an inch. “and don’t you dare talk shit about him.”

something dark flashed in kashimo’s eyes. his smile faltered, just for a second, before it turned into something far more dangerous. he clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening, and for a moment, you thought he might snap.

“you have that much nerve to reject me twice? who do you think you are?” his voice was low, seething now, and before you could even react, his hand shot out and grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him with surprising force.

you gasped, your heart slamming into your chest as you tried to pull away. but kashimo’s grip only tightened. his breath was hot against your ear, and the tension in the air made everything feel suffocating.

“let go of me!” you shouted, struggling to break free. but the more you fought, the stronger his grip became, and your mind raced with panic.

megumi watched in absolute fury as kashimo yanked you toward him, his grip too tight. you were totally helpless.

without thinking, he rushed forward as his feet pounded the pavement. in one swift motion, megumi’s fist collided with kashimo’s face with a sickening crack. the force of the punch sent the man stumbling back, his body jerking violently from the impact. kashimo barely had time to react, his head snapping to the side as he grunted in surprise.

megumi stood there, chest heaving with raw anger, his eyes burning with a fiery rage. “how dare you touch my girlfriend, you fucking lowlife?” he seethed through clenched teeth, his voice low but seething with a dangerous intensity. “oh, megumi fushiguro,” kashimo scoffed, still holding his bruised jaw. “i wasn’t doing anything—just having a little chat with y/n.”

megumi’s glare deepened, his fists still clenched at his sides. his anger wasn’t just for kashimo’s audacity—it was for the way you’d looked moments before. helpless. vulnerable. he’d failed you before, but this time, he wasn’t going to let anything slide. “i don’t care what you were doing,” megumi snarled. “you touch her again, and i’ll make sure you regret it.”

you stood there, shaken, still processing everything that had just happened. megumi’s expression softened just slightly, but his gaze was still intense. without a word, he walked toward you, his movements deliberate, and before you could say anything, he bent down and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you off your feet in one smooth motion.

you gasped, wide-eyed in surprise. “gumi! what are you doing?”

he didn’t answer immediately, his grip on you firm and protective as he cradled you against his chest. he moved without hesitation, heading straight for his car. you could feel the warmth of his body enveloping you, his jacket brushing against your skin as he carried you effortlessly.

“gumi, seriously,” you began, your voice a little shaky. “put me down.”

he didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving the path ahead as he reached his car. he opened the passenger door with one hand and carefully placed you inside. as soon as you were settled, he pulled his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders, the thick fabric enveloping you in warmth. the scent of him—cedarwood, faintly of rain—clung to the fabric, and for a moment, everything felt surreal.

"i— i’m really sorry, baby," megumi’s voice cracked slightly, making you freeze in your spot, every word pulling at your chest. "for everything i said that day. i never meant any of it. i was just… tired and frustrated, and i—i said all that shit. i'm really, really sorry." his eyes finally met yours, and you saw the guilt in them, raw and unguarded. it made your stomach twist. "you have every right to be worried about me. please forgive me, y/n. i’m an idiot… but an idiot who loves you."

his words fell into the space between you two, and for a long moment, everything was still. your heart was pounding in your chest, and yet, your mind felt foggy.

and that feeling, the ache in your chest, it was all too much.

tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. you bit your lip, trying to hold them back, but it was impossible. the way his voice had cracked, the raw vulnerability in his confession, the way he was standing there, waiting for you to forgive him, it shattered everything. every wall you had built up around your heart, every ounce of doubt you’d been holding onto, crumbled in an instant.

you tried to find the right words, but everything seemed to blur together in the rush of emotion. "i-i’m scared, gumi," you whispered, voice breaking. you could feel the tears finally falling, hot against your cheeks. "hicc- i’m scared that one day you won’t love me anymore. that... that all this won’t matter. and i’ll be left alone, with nothing but the pieces of something broken."

his expression softened immediately, and before you could stop it, a sob ripped through your chest. you hated how weak you sounded, but the hurt, the fear, everything that had built up inside you over the past few days, it came crashing down all at once.

megumi’s face morphed into one of pure desperation, and within seconds, he was right there in front of you, cupping your face in his hands, his touch warm and tender, like he was trying to anchor you to him.

“no,” he whispered fiercely, his thumbs brushing away your tears, which were way too precious for him, his voice cracking as he said the words. “no, you’re not alone. you’re not alone, y/n. you never will be. i love you. i love you, so much. i— i’ve been so fucking stupid, but i’m not going anywhere. i swear. i’m so sorry, baby.”

you felt the warmth of his hands, the sincerity in his voice, and it was as if the weight in your chest had suddenly lightened. you didn’t know what to say, but somehow, you didn’t need to. you leaned into his touch, your body trembling as you buried your face against his chest, clutching the front of his shirt like your life depended on it.

megumi’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he never wanted to let you go. "i'm so sorry, y/n," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion. "i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. please... please forgive me."

the tears didn’t stop. they kept coming, but they felt different now. not out of anger or frustration, but because you knew deep down that megumi’s words were real. his love for you was real. and even when he didn’t know how to handle everything, even when he was struggling with his own demons, you knew he would always come back to you. always.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and through the haze of tears, you whispered, “i forgive you, gumi. but you have to promise me something... promise me you’ll talk to me. that we’ll face things together.”

megumi’s eyes softened, his lips trembling slightly as he nodded. “i promise,” he said, voice rough, but sincere. “i’ll do whatever it takes. i swear on everything. i love you, y/n. i won’t screw this up again. i'd die for you, baby. you're my fucking everything.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips, even as your heart still raced in your chest. he had a way of saying things that made you believe in him, even when the world around you felt like it was falling apart.

“i love you too, megumi,” you whispered, the words heavy with meaning.

the air inside the ferrari crackled with tension, and megumi could barely hold himself back any longer. his eyes flickered toward you for a brief moment, before he slammed the door shut and rushed around to the driver’s side. the engine roared to life as his fingers gripped the steering wheel with a mix of frustration and desire.

he didn’t even wait for you to say anything. his foot pressed down on the gas, and the car shot forward with a deafening growl. you squealed, the sudden acceleration pressing you back into your seat as the world outside blurred into streaks of light.

“you’re driving me crazy, princess,” megumi muttered under his breath, but you heard it clearly over the engine’s roar. you turned to look at him, your heart racing, but before you could even react, he flashed you a wicked grin and revved the engine again, sending the car hurtling down the street.

the sound of the engine was a constant growl beneath you, as megumi expertly weaved through the empty lanes, his focus entirely on the road, but you could feel the intensity coming off of him in waves. the speed was exhilarating, the wind in your hair, the thrill of the ride a stark contrast to the weight of the silence between you.

but it didn’t last long. megumi’s gaze flicked over to you again, and this time, there was something more in it. something raw. something dark.

“you like this, don’t you?” he said, voice low. you laughed nervously, your fingers gripping the seat as you felt the car tear through the night, the engine screaming as megumi pushed it faster. yes, he had to be a fucking f1 racer.

“gumi! slow down!” you cried out, though there was a trace of excitement in your voice that didn’t quite match the panic. “you’re insane!”

he glanced over at you again, his lips quirking up at the corners as his eyes glinted with something dangerous. “you have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy, y/n,” he said, his voice smooth but dripping with intensity.

the car sped through the streets, the city lights flickering past in a blur, but it was megumi's presence that was consuming every thought in your mind. every part of you was suddenly hyperaware of him—the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands gripped the wheel as if he was holding onto the last thread of control. god, he looked soo fucking hot right now. his breath was shallow, his eyes flickering to you every few seconds, each glance more intense than the last.

"where are we going?" you asked breathlessly, feeling both thrill and unease stirring inside you.

he seemed pretty unbothered, his voice casual. "my place," he said, voice low, and the way he said it made something tighten in your chest.

finally, he pulled into the driveway of his house, the engine purring softly as he slammed the car into park, the sudden stop making your heart thud in your chest. before you could even catch your breath, megumi was already out of the car, moving so fast you barely had time to process what was happening. he opened your door and lifted you out in one fluid motion, his hands gripping your waist with an urgency that made your pulse spike.

you gasped, half in shock and half in excitement, as megumi’s lips curled into a smile. “told you you’d be crazy for me,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. you swore you were already wet from just that.

before you could even register what was happening, megumi had opened the door and had pinned you to the wall. his lips found your neck, and as he pressed sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but moan, the sound echoing in the living room. “gumi!” you gasped, your heart pounding as he found that sweet spot beneath your ear, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

with a swift, unexpected motion, megumi lifted you effortlessly into the air, your body feeling weightless in his arms. his hands traveled down to your thighs, sending sparks of electricity coursing through you as he positioned you on the couch with a gentle yet assertive push. the plush cushions welcomed you, but before you could fully register the moment, a gasp escaped your lips.

he knelt down before you, he tugged on the hem of your mini skirt, pulling it down slowly. megumi smirked as he hooked his fingers in your lacy panties. with a swift tug, he ripped them away, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"already wet for me, princess?" he asked and you moaned louder as he slipped his fingers into your already wet pussy.

"the voices you're making right now baby, are unholy, and they're doing things to me," he whispered as his fingers continued to work the magic.

"nngh-" you squealed as he pinched your hard nipples through the fabric of your crop top. "use your words, baby," megumi said, while he kissed the inside of your thighs, so dangerously close to your core.

"fuck! a-all for you, gumi," you moaned out desperately.

"good girl," he chuckled as he spread apart your thighs and squeezed them, pressing your knees closer to you.

this was the first time you were doing something so freaky with megumi. you had been intimate before, but he never crossed the line. today, there was this fire burning in him that he couldn't control himself quite like before.

"has anyone seen you bare before?" he practically growled as you shook your head.

"n-no i think this is my first time-" you said as he pinched your sore nipples again.

"you sure baby? no one else? i'm the first?" he asked as he bit your inner thigh as you yelped.

"y-yeah, i swear."

"that's my girl," he said as you could feel the slick arousal dripping again.

his mouth and tongue began to work and in seconds, you were a moaning mess under him.

megumi's tongue slithered between your folds, and your hole squelched out your sweet arousal, puddling down on his couch.

you grabbed at his disheveled hair and relaxed yourself against his mouth again, feeling his groan vibrate against your clit.

he grabbed your thighs harder as he violated your folds with his tongue, his pace faster. "i-i gumi, i c-can't," you cried.

"be my princess and stop complaining will ya?" he growled and slobbered over your folds like a hungry beast. you threw your head back at the sensation of his tongue flattening down your slit to suck at your hole. "fuck, you taste so good, baby," he licked his lips.

you choked as you moaned pathetically, tears escaping your eyes as you tried to squeeze them shut. this was music to his ears, your cute moans making his cock throb and harden as he sucked you filthily.

you shuddered as he swallowed your sweet release and licked his lips. megumi smiled and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. his demeanor very different from what you had seen just now.

"you okay, baby?" he asked as you nodded and he patted your head. "good."

he pulled your skirt up and readjusted your top and put a blanket over your shoulders. "you can clean up baby," he said in such a calm tone that you were doubting if this was the same man who was eating you out a minute ago.

your cheeks were bright red as he chuckled at your flustered state. "go, i'll be waiting for you here," he said as he playfully flicked your forehead with his index finger.

this was your man. the love of your life. you knew it and he knew it too. no matter the fame and recognition he got as he climbed further up the charts aa the best racer, he'd love you unconditionally. he was yours and you were his. it didn’t matter how many people shouted his name from the stands, didn’t matter how many accolades he earned. as long as you were with him, everything else could fade into the background. forever. that was all you ever needed. forever. with him. always.

#jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi smut #megumi x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk x you #jjk #megumi fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu megumi

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katszumi · 9 months ago

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“stare at her longer people might confuse you for a stalker.” mina said for only his ears to catch, not for the paparazzi that’s incoherently shouting at them.

katsuki unintentionally peeled his eyes away from you, his face contorting. “wasn’t staring.” gruffly, he responded.

he placed a fist over his open dries van noten blazer. he straightened his posture, broadening his shoulders for the picture being taken ahead. once pictured, the two of them both took a few steps down the carpet, preparing to restart the process.

mina refused the urge to snort at his words. he wasn’t fooling anyone, the look on his face even contradicted his own words.

the pink woman placed a hand on her hip, shifting her weight on her left leg as she pushed her right leg forward a smidge. “don’t lie to yourself,” she paused her words, allowing the paparazzi to take her picture for the nth time. “i get it though, she’s beautiful, especially tonight.”

in his head, katsuki immediately agreed. you were the most beautiful woman within a five mile radius, hell, maybe even in the entire country of japan. there wasn’t another woman katsuki could name that could compete with you.

a few yards down, you were busy doing a useless interview with some fuckin’ extra he’s never heard of. your smile was from ear to ear, your gaze daring and fierce, and your aura alluring. all of it was for free for a person that did not deserve any bit of it at all. if katsuki had a say, the reporter should be on his knees, kissing the ground you walked on, thankful he was able to breathe the same air as you.

finishing up one of their last poses, mina and katsuki sideways walked down the carpet once more, angling themselves towards the thousand cameras in front of them.

“still, i wasn’t staring.” he refused her words again.

flashes of white surrounded the area, the cameras whining at every second, every angle of the duo being snapped at.

“sure, bakugou.” this time, mina allowed a small chuckle to part her lips. “heard a certain hero is courting her.”

like a black cat, katsuki’s ears sharpened at her sentence, his eyes darting towards mina only for a second. “bullshit.” he called it. he doesn’t remember you mentioning anything similar to that.

but he reminds himself, what relationship did you two have for you to tell him things like that?

“don’t shoot the messenger, just what i heard.” a smirk quirked up the corner of her lip, mina sending one final pose.

it couldn’t have been true. it was impossible for a rumor about you to have gone around without katsuki hearing about it. mina must’ve been trying to lure him in, to make him slip-up. yeah, that had to have been it.

he wasn’t going to fall for mina’s ridiculous plan.

without thought, katsuki looked over at you once more, his eyes analyzing you more than he’d like to admit.

while it was true he wasn’t going to fall for her stupid plan, it was also true that you’ve had more of a certain glow to you lately. your eyes had been more softer and your smile seemed more genuine.

nah.

he wasn’t falling for it.

but, as soon as his foot touched the end of the red fabric carpet, his legs were taking themselves towards you and that shitty reporter. for why? of course it was for a completely different reason than to what mina said.

almost as if you were reading his mind, your head turned, your soft eyes meeting his fervent vermillion irises.

“katsuki, what a pleasant surprise.” you greeted him with your usual bright smile.

the reporter that was granted all of your attention also ogled at katsuki. mainly because he interrupted a private interview, but also because it was the katsuki bakugou in front of him.

katsuki stood aside of you, still letting all of the focus to be on you, but close enough that he placed his hand on your back gently.

“had to make myself known. feel like you’ve been tucked away all evenin’.”

instead of letting you reply, the reporter finally took his chance to speak up again. “dynamight, what are your thoughts on y/n swiftly climbing the ranks?” the reporter pushed the microphone in his face.

katsuki raised his brow at the male, but nonetheless he opened his mouth to reply.

“what else do you want me to say? obviously it’s well-deserved. these fuckers been sleepin’ on her for way too long, it’s about fuckin’ time.” his voice harsh, but his words were somewhat kind. “she’ll be dominating the charts in less than no time.”

“do you see yourself collaborating with y/n anytime soon?”

now, you looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“if she grants me permission.” katsuki met your eyes once more. “only the best of the best can work with y/n.” mina’s words entering his mind from earlier, he removed his eyesight off of you, back onto the reporter.

“so, that means—”

he interrupted the male, “that means no shitty extras. at all.”

needless to say, katsuki did in fact fall for mina’s antics. the truth coming out days later that there was no rumor of a hero courting y/n, but rather a mind game mina played on him for shits and giggles.

also a few days later, katsuki came across a new rumor that was headlined in the press, but this one he didn’t necessarily mind so much.

Y/N AND DYNAMIGHT WORK BUDDIES, OR MUCH MORE?

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theemporium · 9 months ago

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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it.

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like.

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly.

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be.

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on.

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together).

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs.

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other.

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers.

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited.

“Takin’ it all in?”

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed.

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar.

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response.

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze.

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!”

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.”

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.”

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered.

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it.

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back.

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing.

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?”

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose.

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason.

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!”

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar.

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?”

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?”

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?”

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown.

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him.

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.”

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him.

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again.

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again.

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was.

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you.

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing.

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?”

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You.

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock.

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed.

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say.

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened.

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name.

Cherry.

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it.

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him.

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise.

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?”

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs.

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?”

Luke cleared his throat but nodded.

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror.

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head.

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.”

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.”

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.”

“Are you going to look at me now?”

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further.

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap.

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.”

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.”

You say it like a fact, not a question.

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.”

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.”

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.”

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it.

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited.

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.”

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.”

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?”

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.”

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan.

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?”

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend.

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.”

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.”

It was his choice.

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life.

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then.

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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deadsetobsessions · 11 months ago

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Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

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sonnyaavce · 1 year ago

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DP x DC prompt # 6

There’s a kid crying, a blue skinned white headed kid that was just sitting there crying his eyes out in a panic as he was covered in a very large and dark cloak that was dwarfing him… that was cute to see but, the thing wouldn’t be an issue if there weren’t for the clusterfuck of dead cultist surrounding a green ominous portal under him while the poor kiddo shed luminescent tears nonstop.

“Why is there a kid?” ‘dumb question to ask Captain but sure let’s go with that yeah?’ scoffed annoyed Constantine after eyeing the magic champion while some of the members of the Justice League finished some of the goons that were still alive and resisting, Constantine just watched in dumbfounded stupor the crying baby eldritch abomination still wailing over there.

“I’ll go check on him first” said Wonder Woman, being the first to react after finishing her part, slowly walking forward with gentle steps and humming tunes to make the small baby calm down a bit and refocus on her. Dianna never went too closer to grab the small kid, but she slowly crouched in front of him, palms out and leveling her face in a calm expression, so the kid wouldn’t freak out while she still hummed songs and cooed calming words.

The poor kid wails gradually subsided and ‘oh my god, why are those eyes way too green!’ His eyes were completely black except his irises being a bright neon green shine, his small body trembled when only small hiccups stayed, in his small crying fit the lad had ended up sucking his thumb in a desperate attempt to calm down while looking for any non-frightening competent adult and after only seeing Dianna in front of him he tried to raise his small arms towards her but immediately cried as his arms wouldn’t move at all.

“I think the little boy is injured…” said Wonder Woman, breaking the silence once all suspects were aprehended and tied down “explain what you can see Wonder Woman” chastised Batman as he tried to walk towards her to check on the small boy only to be stopped by Superman, who had his eyes shinning red as he looked at the kid “For what I can see, the small child seems to have some broken bones and some internal bleeding… also there’s seems to be a sphere in the middle of his chest?”

“The demon baby is hurt?” Constantine blurted out incredulous, Zatanna wacked him furiously for that comment “if you haven’t heard what Superman said, he said he saw a sphere so it’s not a demon John! it’s a tuttelagé you idiot!”

“How the fuck would you know that isn’t a démonos, Z?!” cussed the magician as he moved a bit back while Zatanna then moved towards Wonder Woman, with spells already healing the poor baby body “tuttelagés are known to be protective spirits of kids that died wishing to protect their loved ones, their wish is then concentrated in their chest as a sphere so to see a young one hurt like this…” Wonder Woman looks grimm at the implications while Zatanna finish healing the young spirit and allows Dianna to pick him up once he’s done healing and calmed down bit.

“Someone must have hurt his protegué so bad that his body is getting affected by it” sentenced Batman as he glared with concern at the small baby who now is now resting his head in Wonder Woman arms and falling asleep.

MEANWHILE

Danny is soo scared and hurt all around his tiny body, the wounds he had while being subjected to the examine table makes him tear up in pain while also making his chest feels funny once the weird forced summoning spell stops pulling his being into existing; green stops flooding his vision only to be meet by a dark and open space full of dead people dressed in weird costumes, so the only answer he has to this is to wail.

Because thats all he can do now, cry. He cries and cries after all what had occurred to him; he cries for his parents betrayal and rejection of his being, he cries for the cruelty they subjected him into, the torture he had to endure and almost making his core break, he cries for his friends deaths when they tried to free him from all his pain but failed.

He cries and cries until the pain into his core is unbearable because he just lost his fright, his connection to the living, his reason of being here. He’s still crying when his senses tenses the moment something changed in his surroundings, he hears fighting and grunting and something falling down and he cries harder; because he’s scared and tired and he just wants Jazz to carry him and…

There’s someone humming, nice humming, calm humming, steps coming closer and then he looks up, scared and hurt and just tired only to find a beautiful black headed and blue eyes woman dressed in a nice outfit crouching in front of him, she’s humming something to him and just looking at him with calm and such gentleness that it makes him croon at her because he feels his core sing ‘she’s nice and pretty and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’ he tries to reach out to her but his arms fell numb and ouchie and he looks up to her, in a silent plea for her so she would carry him but she’s not moving, just looking at him gently.

Until he sees another woman coming closer to them and he tenses up again, afraid and cautious, still a bit frightened by her aura but her hands are starting to glow and he immediately feels his body swaying and feeling a lot better, so he relaxes his body and let’s the pretty woman carry him so he can rest his head and nuzzle asleep.

His core sings pleased ‘I’m safe… she’s nice and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’

-TBC-

masterpost

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #justice league #danny fenton #baby Danny

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sukunasweetheart · 11 months ago

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the whole court and justice system stuff going on right now in jjk is giving me ideas for modern au where criminal!sukuna put on trial for some heinous deeds he's done... but upon a fated happenstance he gets to hire the most perfect and competent defence lawyer who manages to somehow get him out of the situation as a free and innocent man. and being the charismatic and so very thoughtful man that he is, he decides he wants to do something for you in return...

warnings; female reader, smut, oral fem!receiving, mentions of murder and killing, dubcon-ish, morally corrupted reader, mildly submissive sukuna, male masturbation, cum in panties

words: 2.3k

criminal!sukuna, who's showing you gratitude in the only way he knows how... somewhere in a secluded room with the door locked behind. he sinks to his knees and hikes up your skirt, slides your panties down...

criminal!sukuna, who's kneeling down while your back is against the wall, one of your legs propped up on his shoulder as he eats you out so good that you're shuddering and twitching with every flicker of his tongue against your clit...

criminal!sukuna, who is getting drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, disregarding the fact that his face is beginning to sweat from the heat between your legs, and his cock is so hard that it hurts right now.

criminal!sukuna, who pulls out orgasm after orgasm out of you, not minding your slick that dribbles down his chin from doing so.

(how far will you let him take this?)

sukuna hadn't really cared much, whether he were to be ruled as innocent or be judged as guilty and sent to prison. he really was just planning on going with the flow, whichever direction life threw him in-- he's not one to cry and throw a tantrum over spoiled milk... if he gets locked up, so be it, he'd either find a way to cunningly get back out or he'd probably rise to the top amongst the inmates inside.

so even when he was introduced to you, a famously proficient defence lawyer and the top in your field, he wasn't expecting much from you at all.

but upon his first meeting with you, you managed to pique his interest when you confessed that you didn't give a fuck whether he's actually a criminal or not. as long as he's paying good money, you're going to get him out with 100% innocence. and to do that, you'll need a bit of his cooperation and honesty. whatever information you ask for, he needs to provide. so you can either slip it under the rug, or use it to your advantage in court.

he already thinks you're pretty fuckin' sexy. your formal and classy lawyer fit, tight ass pencil skirt... he'd like to get under it. your snobby and overly professional attitude. hah. he'd like to rip that away from you and see what's underneath all of it.

but for now, he does as you advise of him.

there were many instances where masses of journalists with their obnoxious mics and flashing cameras surrounded sukuna while he was getting moved from place to place with cuffs on his hands. he remained expressionless, all while thinking of how nice it would feel to paint the concrete floors with the blood of all these people. he'd even spare one of them, so they could publish whatever rubbish story they wanted. let the whole world know what he is.

and amongst all those who were against him, there really was only you. he's not quite used to this feeling, of having someone at his defence. he's never really needed it until he eventually slipped up and a detective caught onto his trail. he spent a considerable amount of time with you one-on-one.

while he was detained for a time before the trial began, there were times you visited him because you needed some confirmation on some of the information you had, but you also wanted to give him some advice on how he should answer questions when he was being interrogated.

"well, aren't i lucky to have a visitor with such a pretty face? nothing but unsightly insects and the stench of men in this filthy place," sukuna crooned with mischief in his tone, sitting himself down in front of you as a thin transparent wall separated the two of you.

"endure it. you won't be here for long after all."

god, he'd never seen someone with more confidence than himself in a long while. he wondered how you'd look if you did end up losing the trial. what a humiliation that would be. but something inside him said that you were going to prevail. his gut feelings are usually never wrong.

he's still quite nonchalant about it all, but oh boy, when he's sat next to you in court and watches you defend him against the prosecutor in front of a crowd for the first time... it does something to him. your voice, confident and clearly audible, how you articulate your words... all for his sake? (not really. but you get what i mean.)

"i know being cocky is your whole theme... but it'd be helpful if you could refrain from smirking or looking unapologetic during the trial. to get the jury on our side." you'd told him.

and he's trying, he really is (kind of...), but the corners of his mouth keep rising every time you debunk a piece of evidence presented by the prosecutor with ease. their expressions are really amusing. it's obvious how frustrated they are getting.

then he also thinks about what you'd said to him after that.

"ah, but perhaps... the media will favour you a bit better. they're always biased towards handsome faces. and don't underestimate the public's influence on court rulings."

you'd called him handsome, in such a matter of fact way. not that it was a rare occurrence- but something about you openly admitting it with your rigid personality had him going in a way no one else could.

in a matter of weeks, the tables had turned completely, and the court ruled him as an innocent man.

triumphant, you gathered your documents neatly put them in one pile. he's declared free to go, and while the place slowly empties of people, you meet sukuna in a now empty hall.

"so, you've set me free. knowing that i really was the one who did it," he voices dangerously, with a smirk. "i'd have to say, it's foolish thing to do. what if i made you my next victim? criminals know no courtesy, after all."

"you paid me a hefty sum. i don't do this for courtesy, you should know this by now. if i die by the hands of someone i defended, then so be it. i'll gladly bear the consequences of my own actions."

part of him wants to test your words. but it'd be such a waste to have you dead. right now, he's aching for something else.

"bold statement. you're not even a bit afraid? my cuffs have been off for a while now." you don't flinch even as he reaches out and palms your cheek. his hand is warm.

"not at all. you've been the most unreadable criminal i've defended, but after speaking to you for a while, i believe i've gotten better at interpreting your expressions."

"you've been reading me like a book, hey? well, enlighten me. i'm interested in hearing your thoughts."

"i may know what you want, but i don't plan on giving it to you. that's one line i don't cross with my clients."

"...oh yeah? well, good thing i'll be the one giving instead. how about we find an empty room first?"

"i don't need-"

"or should we do it here? do you like being an exhibitionist?"

you purse your lips together and give him a stern look, arms crossed.

"c'mon sweetheart. keep staring at me like that, and i'll get hard."

"enough. i have another client waiting."

"i'm sure you do. so i'll make it quick. you deserve a little something after all that hard work."

in the end, he successfully drags you off to a secluded room, somewhere in the building.

which finally brings you to present time...

sukuna's knees are probably going to be bruised later on. but at the moment, he doesn't feel a thing. all he can feel is arousal when he hears your whines and moans that seem so unlike you. gripping at his head, full body twitching as he sucks around your puffy and swollen clit, every huffing breath he takes in having the scent of you drenched in it.

you reach your third orgasm while standing in his manner, and he groans deeply as he feels it, your cunt pulsing against his lips.

you're clasping a hand over your mouth, but your muffled noises are still audible. deep down, you're starting to admit that perhaps you needed this, after all. sukuna was undeniably attractive, and you'd been constantly reminding yourself that he was but a murderer with blood on his hands... all for your efforts to come crashing down now.

it feels too good. he's getting you hot and bothered in a way no one else does. his hands palm and grope your asscheeks, touching whatever he can. whatever you'll let him.

once your clit begins to get too sensitive that it hurts, you have to push him away. and when he comes out from under your skirt, you take quite the liking to the state of his disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, your slick shining on his chin, and his glassy eyes. your leg comes off his shoulder, and the two of you are panting for a full minute before saying anything.

"fuck... i'll be honest, it was better than i thought it would be," you tell him, chest still rising up and down from the sexual high.

"bet it was. it's the least i could do after you were so good to me..." sukuna responds teasingly with a hoarse voice, looking up at you with his knees still against the floor, grinning.

you stare back, until your eyes wander down to the outline of his dick in his pants, clearly strained by the fabric.

"and what about you?" you ask with plenty a playfulness in your tone, smiling so gracefully. his cock visibly throbs when you mention it. you nudge it, gently dragging the tip of your toe up it's shape, still wearing your heels. sukuna doesn't hate it. in fact, he has to swallow up a moan coming from the back of his throat.

"feeling gracious enough to help relieve me?" he says with a cloudy haze in his eyes, grabbing your ankle with one of his calloused hands.

"hmm...not really. but i'm willing to watch you do it yourself."

"how perverted. to think you were so opposed to this, minutes before-"

you press down harder against his erection using the sole of your heel, and he groans, unable to stop himself this time.

"is that a no?"

"...if you'll let me finish in your panties, i will," he relents.

you give it some thought. and then you agree to it.

sukuna stands, and he stands close, towering over you with his height. he wastes no time in unbuckling himself.

revealing his thick cock, you marvel at its size and the way its drooling precum, veins running along its side and twitching against his palm. he begins to stroke himself. other hand against the wall behind you, he starts jacking off like he would if no one were around. like you're not there right in front of him.

you watch with a small smile, staring at his hand that goes up and down his erection at a fast pace. staring down at his leaking tip. listening to his small grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his fist.

then your gaze begins to wander. your eyes trail up and up, reaching his face, where you realise that he's looking directly at you. lust in his irises. your reflection shining in both those pupils of his.

sukuna hasn't touched himself in a while. he's never really needed to. but with a few words from you, he willingly obliged. now when you meet his eyes like that, he can't resist leaning down for a messy kiss with you, all while mumbling "mm..fuck-" against your lips.

he angles his hips closer to your pussy, making it so that every stroke makes his tip catch onto your clitoris. his hand speeds up. you hitch in a breath at the tension, at how close he is, as he's basically leaning into you now.

"i'm close... open up," he mutters into your ear, breaking the kiss.

your panties are hanging between your thighs, and you slip them up a little more up for him. his breathing starts to get faster.

"shit... 'm cumming-"

he aims it to the fabric of your underwear, and releases. sukuna groans deeply, twisting his hand towards the head of his bulbous tip as he spurts rope after rope of his seed on, hips jerking and dick throbbing with every hot string that comes out.

your hole clenches around nothing at the sight. there's so much. you're slightly starting to regret agreeing to this. it might seep out if he continues letting out this much.

thankfully, he comes to a stop soon. he squeezes himself for one last drop, and then his cock starts softening in his hand.

"all done?" you ask.

"every last drop." he watches you with a smirk as you pull it up. the warmth of it hits your cunt and you hide the way it feels arousing. he also tucks himself back in.

"now i'm running late," you say with a frown, taking a quick look at your wristwatch.

"so you actually had someone waiting?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"of course. why would i lie about that?"

the thought of you seeing another client with his sticky mess between your legs makes him a little hard again. you start heading off to the door, but he blocks your way.

"we'll be seeing each other again, won't we?"

"i don't know. will we?"

"of course we will," he offers slyly. "i'll have you choking on my dick, next time."

he's very adamant about it, and it doesn't seem like he'll let you through unless you give some sort of agreement to him.

"we'll see about that," you tell him. and then you follow it up with a small kiss to his cheek, which stuns him slightly. you make your way out the door and he stands as he listens to your footsteps that get further and further away.

...he knew that jerking off once would be far from enough for him. he regrets not asking for your panties instead.

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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