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imsuperhungry · 2 months ago

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4 𝙖𝙢

entry 002

(yandere until dawn)

WARNINGS: Yandere Themes, Cussing, Josh Crying Is Its Own Warning

WORD COUNT: 2070

(8:55 ᴘᴍ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʙɪɴ)

Mike and Jess didn't notice Emily's arrival at first; they were too wrapped up in their makeout session. But Emily definitely noticed them.

"Oh my God. That is so gross," she declared, her voice slicing through the haze of their moment. The words hung in the air, sharp enough to draw their attention away from each other. Emily folded her arms defiantly, "Are you trying to swallow his face whole?" A mocking grin spread on her face.

Matt, who walked in right behind her, said, "Em..." as if he already knew this was going to happen. His tone was resigned, and I could see the concern in his eyes as he took in the scene.

"Seriously," Emily started again, her voice rising. "Can she be any more obvious? No one wants in on your territory, honey!" She shouted.

Jess stood up and began to walk toward Emily, causing Ashley to gasp slightly, still curled into me. "Excuse me, did you say something?" Jess asked, her tone sharp as she narrowed her eyes at Emily.

"Oh, you didn't hear me? Was your sluttiness too loud?" Emily matched Jess's stride, stepping forward with confidence. As everything unfolded, nobody said a word. Some watched in amusement, while others looked on in concern, the atmosphere charged with anticipation as the two faced off.

"Sounds like someone's bitter she didn't make the cut!" Jess retorted, a smirk dancing on her lips as she gestured toward Mike, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

"Yeah. It's all just a big cattle call with that dreamboat. Congratulations, you're top cow!" Emily's voice sliced through the thick tension, each word draped in biting sarcasm. Mike shifted uncomfortably, caught between their escalating confrontation.

"Cuts real deep calling Miss Homecoming a cow."

Matt stood rigid, tension coiling around him like a taut wire. He turned to Emily, desperation etched on his face as he attempted to bridge the widening chasm. "Em, come on—" he urged, his tone steady but urgent, as if pleading for reason.

"Shut up, Matt," Emily snapped, her tone sharp and unrelenting. "Hey, watch it—" Emily warned, pointing a finger at Jess.

"Oh, you're the only one who can put him down? No one else gets to play with your toys?" Jess shot back, the words were sharp, aimed to provoke, as if she were daring Emily to retaliate.

"You're such a bitch!"

"Whatever, I don't give a crap what you think," Jess shot back, turning away from Emily in an attempt to end the argument on her own terms.

"At least I can think. 4.0, bitch, honor roll. Suck on that when you're trying to sleep your way into a job."

"Who needs grades when you've got all the natural advantages you can handle?" Jess retorted, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned into the jab.

"Oh, please," Emily scoffed

"You couldn't buy a moldy loaf of bread with your skanky ass!"

"...Are you serious? You think that's insulting?" Emily said, the disbelief in her voice evident, the look on her face challenging Jess to reconsider her words.

"That bitch is on crack or something." Jess said as she turned to me. I quickly averted my eyes, desperately wanting to disappear into the background, hoping they would sort this out without my presence. The tension hung thick in the air, and I could feel the weight of their rivalry pressing down on me.

"Oh, so now you're trying to get them involved? I mean, it makes sense; you always hog them like you couldn't get attention anywhere else," Emily sneered.

"Okay, everyone, stop," Josh said, clearly fed up with the feud. "This isn't why I invited you all here. If you can't handle being around each other right now, maybe we should take a break and split up for a bit." he proposed.

"I have a guest cabin through that door," Josh pointed to a second door on the wall to the right of the front entrance "Just keep going straight, and you'll find it. It's pretty hard to miss." Josh was looking right at Jess and Mike.

"Fine," Jess began, but it seemed Mike read her mind, interjecting before she could finish. "But only if they can come with us," he said, pointing directly at me. The declaration caught me off guard, and I felt the weight of their gazes on me, a mix of expectation and pressure. I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how I fit into this escalating drama.

"No," Josh said, his voice firm, cutting through the air like a knife. This was the first time I'd heard him speak with such authority. But as I stood there, it dawned on me that I hadn't spoken to Jess and Mike in a while. This could be a good opportunity to clear the air without risking another fight.

I stood from the couch, feeling all eyes turn toward me. "It's fine, really. I haven't seen them in a while anyway, and I'm sure Jess has stuff she wants to talk about." I glanced between them, gauging their reactions. "I'll walk them out to the cabin, but I'll just come back when they make it there. That way, they get their alone time, and I can come back to all of you guys."

My proposal hung in the air, a tentative bridge to ease the tension. I hoped it would give Jess and Mike the space they needed while allowing me to remain connected to the group. But then I remembered I had to please both sides to make that happen, not just Jess and Mike.

I turned to Emily and spoke earnestly, "I promise, when I get back, we can do whatever we want—facemasks, paint our nails, I've got so much gossip to tell you." A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she nodded, and I could see a flicker of excitement in her eyes, which eased some of the tension.

Then I diverted my attention to everyone else, who had been awkwardly standing near the doorway while this whole fiasco unfolded. "You guys can relax; I'll be back before you know it," I reassured them, trying to lighten the mood "then when i come back, we can all watch a movie or something.". Chris and Josh seemed to really like that idea. The group seemed to shift a bit, the atmosphere slowly easing as I prepared to guide Jess and Mike to the cabin.

"Real quick, before you go," Sam said, grabbing my attention. "While they were arguing, I tried to go upstairs to take a bath, only to find out the hot water was off. Do you want to help me turn it back on in the basement?" She looked at me with hopeful eyes, clearly eager for a little assistance.

"Well, this is Josh's cabin; I don't know how to do that," I replied, a bit bashful about my lack of knowledge on fixing the hot water. The admission made me feel slightly embarrassed, as if I should have known something so basic.

"I do," Josh said, his tone light yet confident, clearly expecting to step in. "Come on, I'll teach you. Then you can walk them out to the cabin... or whatever." He placed his hands on both my shoulders, guiding me toward the basement, with Sam trailing closely behind us.

The basement was spacious and had clearly been turned into a storage area. I spotted skis and sleds leaning against the wall, alongside piles of old clutter. A worn-out sofa sat in one corner, while boxes stacked haphazardly filled the space. Empty paint cans lay scattered about, and a bat rested in another corner.

Wooden beams, worn and splintered, crisscrossed above, their surfaces mottled with age. The walls, painted a faded gray, bore the scars of time—cracks spiderwebbed their surfaces, and patches of peeling paint.

Josh walked over to a wall adorned with various knobs, flips, and switches labeled "Power," "Heater," and more. I would've followed him if the bat sitting in the corner hadn't caught my attention.

I walked over to where the bat rested and picked it up. It was wooden and chipped, but still heavy and in surprisingly good condition. After examining it for a moment, I made my way back to where Sam stood, leaning against the wall and watching Josh tinker with the knobs. Her eyes flicked between him and the controls, a look of mild amusement on her face.

"What's this, Josh?" I asked, catching his attention. He turned to look at me, a playful grin spreading across his face. "It's a bat, silly." he said

"Well, duh, I just mean why is it down here?" I asked again, twirling the bat in my hands. It felt good to grip, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was doing in this cluttered basement. Josh shrugged, still smiling, as he glanced back at the wall of switches.

"I used to play baseball with my dad out here almost every day. It was a tradition every Sunday, but he quit a while ago; he got a little too busy to play with me," he said, his tone surprisingly light.

"Oh," was all I managed to say, unsure whether to comfort him or let him focus on his work. I turned to Sam, who had been listening intently, and playfully pointed the end of the bat at her. A mischievous grin crossed my face, and i new idea in my head.

"Do you, know how to play baseball, madam?" I asked her in a faux ancient English accent, adding a dramatic flair.

She put her hands on her hips, feigning offense, and replied, "Why, I do! I reckon you aren't too good yourself!" Her playful tone made me laugh.

Now it was my turn to act offended. I placed my hand dramatically on my chest and exclaimed, "Now you take that back! I'll have you know I'm the best darn tootin' baseball player to ever exist!" I struggled to keep a straight face, barely holding back a laugh.

"Well, that's something you're gonna have to prove to me!" she replied, raising an eyebrow as if she didn't believe me at alI. Her playful challenge only fueled my determination.

"Oh yeah, watch this!" I said, grabbing an old baseball that was lying on the ground. I swung the bat, connecting with the ball, and watched as it ricocheted off the walls, bouncing wildly before finally dropping to the floor. The sound echoed in the basement, and I couldn't help but grin at my impromptu display.

I turned back to Sam with a smug grin, acting as if I'd just accomplished something great, only to find her bowing dramatically before me, hand over her heart. "You have my utmost respect; I pray you'll teach me your ways," she said, suppressing a laugh. I couldn't help but chuckle at her theatrics.

Josh then cut the act of devotion short, saying, "Hey, _____, do you mind using your flashlight? I can't see the labels that well." His brows were furrowed in concentration as he continued to search through the power box.

"Yes, sir!" I replied, saluting playfully. I pulled out my phone and walked over to where he was bent down, turning on the flashlight. After angling it to where he instructed me, I watched his fingers dance over the board, cranking knobs and pressing buttons with a focused intensity.

Eventually, he stood up straight and faced both me and Sam. "Alright, I think I've got it. Go ahead and try the bath now, Sam," he said.

Sam nodded and gave me a quick hug goodbye, wishing me luck with Jess and Mike. Her concern was masked by a playful exterior, but I could still sense the hint of reluctance in her expression as she let go.

She walked up the basement stairs, and I would've followed her, if it weren't for Josh's grip on my wrist. He held me back, a certain look on his face as he gestured for me to stay a moment longer.

"Hey," he started as soon as Sam fully left. "Be careful, okay? Hannah and Beth walked alone out there and, I mean—" His voice cracked, and I could see his eyes starting to water. It was clear he was struggling to get the words out, his concern weighing heavily on him.

"Lord knows where they are right now. I can't lose you like I lost them. It happened once, and I won't allow it to happen again, okay?" he said, his grip shifting from my wrist to both hands planted on my shoulders. Tears streamed down his face, and I could feel the weight of his worry.

I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him fully. He definitely needed comfort right now, and I'd be a monster to deny him that. His body shook with sobs, and my shoulder quickly became wet, soaked with his tears. I held him tighter, letting him know I too missed Hannah and Beth.

"I know," I began carefully. "I promise, I know the route there safely. It seems like you're forgetting that I've been here like a million times." I said it playfully, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

All he did was nod and continue to cradle me, his grip tightening slightly. I couldn't help but wonder, why he didn't act like this when sending Jess and Mike out?

#yandere x reader #mike munroe #emily davis #jessica riley #ashley brown #christopher hartley #josh washington #matthew taylor #samantha giddings #yanderes #multiple yanderes #yanderes x reader #yandere until dawn #until dawn #until dawn x reader #x reader

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

summary: you think anakin's scar is sexy // based on this post and the line, "during heated moments of course, when you dig your nails into his face as he prompts you to 'give me another one, baby. cut me open, make me bleed.'"

cw: smut, minors dni. blood/gore (she scratches him and draws blood), don't like don't read.

Sex with Anakin is a bloody thing; the rush of it through your ears and the tang of it on your tongue as your spit runs hot. Though it mainly stays beneath your skin, rising to the surface to splotch you purple here and there, it occasionally surfaces due to the harsh bite of Anakin's teeth.

He's latched onto your shoulder now, some base instinct he doesn't bother to combat. He grunts against your skin as he ruts into you, teeth digging sharply into your skin. He hasn't broken it, but he will if he clamps down harder, and there's no telling what he'll do.

"Fuck, Anakin," You wince at the pain that's boiling your blood, sending shockwaves of its heat to your core, "Be- be careful, you're gonna leave a- mm! - a scar."

He exhales through his nose; you feel the breath against your shoulder.

His pace doesn't slow, but his teeth unlatch from your shoulder, leaving strings of spit behind, and his lips press there lazily.

"You and scars," He hums thoughtfully, almost amusedly, "You fuckin' love 'em, don't you?"

"Hm?" Is all you can manage as Anakin latches to your jaw now, his lip a tight, sucking ring.

"You love my fucking scar," He accuses, licking a hot stripe of saliva up your jawline and over your cheek. It puts the aforementioned scar in your view, and you admire the way it cuts jaggedly close to his eye.

He's right; it's hot.

"I do," You breathe, really more of a moan as Anakin's dick prods deep into your sensitive cunt, "I- It's so pretty, Ani."

"Yeah?" He asks, breath hitting your face, "Give me another one, then."

"What?"

"Give me another one," He repeats, breaking the bruising seal that his hand has had over your hip since he'd first laid over you. He lifts his hand to take your own, bringing it up to his face and setting it over his eye. Your nails rest gently against his tan skin, and his breath shudders when he exhales over your mouth.

"Dig your fucking nails into me, baby. Give me another scar- cut me open and make me fucking bleed."

"Anakin!" You protest, momentarily horrified, "I- I can't do that! I can't hurt you!"

"You can," He urges- no, begs, his hips snapping faster and faster into yours as he smashes your hand to his face, feeling the bite of your nails, "Do it, baby, fucking- fucking do it, give me another scar!"

"Anakin-"

"Do it!"

You let the heat of the moment seize you, and, though all five of your nails dig into his skin, one breaks through. You scrape your middle finger so harshly against his eyebrow that it draws blood, a crimson streak that lays lopsided and not quite parallel against his now-healed scar.

The burning pain that accompanies your nail's sharp edge is enough to push Anakin over the edge, and you feel yourself succumbing to your own orgasm as he begins to fuck his way through his inside of your spasming cunt. When the height of it takes him he nudges your hand out of the way and rubs his face against yours, leaving you with a gory smear of blood against your own eyebrow.

Something about it makes you sob; not sadness or anger, but perhaps sheer viscerality. Anakin's blood on your face feels cosmically binding, wrought from the edge of your nail at his heated insistence. He feels the shake of your chest as he collapses above you, his dick still inside of you though it softens now that he's spent.

"Shit," Is all he can offer, and you agree.

"Does it hurt?" You ask curiously, knowing that an apology will be dismissed; he'd begged for it, after all.

"A bit," He shrugs, eyes shut despite the crimson stain just left of them, "I've had worse."

"It'll scar," You note, perhaps stating the obvious but acknowledging it now for the first time.

"Yeah. Now I've got double the sex appeal," Anakin nods absentmindedly against your chest, more focused on regaining his breath, "And every time you see it you'll think of how you gave it to me."

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

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beartitled · 7 months ago

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*sob*

the

the babies

🥺❤️💞❤️🥺🥺💞💓💕💖 THE BABIES 🥺❤️💞❤️🥺🥺💞💓💕💖

💕💖💞💓💕💖AAAAAAAAA💞💕💖💓💞

Stanley hug request from @marionette-j2x!

A response from this previous post!

Ft. @blackkatdraws’ Stanley

#bear reblogs #ok first of all I ADORE THE FIRST FRAME it looks so cool and stylised #especially my goobers #everyone looks so stylish while there’s this man in a Stanley hat and a bear™️ in a box 🐻‍❄️💛📦#also hole and announcement board are there 🫵🕳️#you counted every detail 🥹❤️✨#Stanley thought he was alone 😔 but his husband was here all along 🫵💥🏳️‍🌈/silly #the evil reflection in the mirror actually is not that evil and just wanted a smooch 💋#man I love the visuals ✨✨✨#the urge to just go super nerd and start an art lecture 👓🐻‍❄️#and 🏌️‍♂️🪑 my man is ready to throw hands #he saw the horrors and he knows the horror’s weakness is a steady chair #🪑💥#Black 100% would be absolutely unfazed and perfectly fine after that hit 😭 Stanley(4) run��😭#the hight differences are so cute✨💞#I’m pretty bad with hights tbh 😭💥#my metrics are *he would probably be taller that this bush*#*proceeds to draw the bush higher in the next frame*#and the last picture 💞💕🥺they happ together🥺💞💕 look at em 🥹🥹🥹#also ☝️#*tiny table slap* Kat don’t apologise for rambling #me like big walls of text me read 🐻‍❄️#I *would* ramble about my goobers but leaving it for the future 😈 no spoilers for now 🤫#(don’t want to give big promises for anything bc I’m not sure about anything 💥#but we will see)#just lemme say that I love this chain 🥺❤️💕#it was so fun to see unfold ✨💞#I adore the nature of reblog chains so much tbh #they start and grow into silly adventures ✨❤️

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mrsnegan · 10 months ago

Note

Hi, my request: age gap negan smut

Pretty please, I’m taking anything 🙏

I’m obsessed with your work

[This praise makes me blush, thank you so much for reading my fics! 🥰 And I'm so sorry it took so long to write a little something for your request. It's just a drabble, but I hope you like it!]

Pairing: Negan x f!Reader

Warnings: smut, (unspecified) age gap, fingering, (semi) public, dirty talk, mentions of exhibitionism, a bit of softdom!Negan, some body fluids

He peppers your skin with hot kisses, right there, where your neck connects with your collarbone. A rich moan spills from your lips, your fingers mindlessly caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't even remember how it started, why the two of you are tangled right now, him pressing you against his body as well as against the cold wall of your house. Everyone in Alexandria seems to despise him because of what he has done years prior. Of course you have heard about it, people love to gossip, even in a lovely little town such as Alexandria.

You don't mind, though. His aura, that self-assured smile, the cocky attitude, his experience, it all makes him even more interesting in your eyes. He may have done some fucked up things you absolutely condone, but you live in a fucked up world and people do a lot of fucked up things to survive or keep each other safe.

Negan rips you out of your thoughts when his teeth playfully bite at your skin.

"Stay with me, I'm just starting," he whispers into your neck, his eyes flashing upwards to scan your face. "Wouldn't want you to miss a thing."

His words send a shiver through your body, heat pooling between your legs. You don't know why the age difference makes your little banter even more arousing, but it does. The mere prospect of a man like him between your thighs sets a fire to your core.

One of his hands travels south, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, lovingly teasing your nipples hardening under all the material.

"So responsive," he teases. His hand wanders downwards, gripping the hem of the skirt you're wearing.

For just a heartbeat you contemplate to grip his hand and yank him away from where you want him the most and into the safeness of your home. Though the delicious feeling of his touches, the risk of potentially getting caught even if you're hidden away in the shadows, nobody to be heard or seen nearby, it all drives you insane. So much so you urge him on to touch you by opening your legs further.

"Shit baby, you're needy, aren't you?"

Nodding your head, you pull him in for another messy kiss. "Please Negan," you whimper.

He whistles lowly when his hand moves upwards on your thigh, noticing what special gift you have prepared for him when his fingers don't meet fabric. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, pure desire being reflected right back at him.

"No panties, baby? Fucking hell, someone's eager."

"Only for you," you confess, biting your lip playfully.

You watch Negan with shaking breaths when you feel his fingers connecting with your bare pussy.

"Fuck me, you're so damn wet," he marvels, two of his fingers stroking you with featherlight touches, spreading your wetness from your opening towards your clit and back down again.

Shivers run down your spine, cheeks flushed with how easy it is for Negan to turn you on, to get you this wet with only so much effort.

"Need you," you whisper, head dizzy, knees weak.

"Don't worry, I've got you." He smiles at you mischieviously while sinking first one, then two of his fingers into your welcoming heat.

There's no way for you to swallow the moan spilling from your lips, hands flying to Negan's shoulders to anchor yourself.

"Fucking shit, such a tight little pussy", he marvels while his thumb draws lazy circles on your clit, fingers moving slowly. "But you gotta keep quiet, baby, or do you want to give 'em a show?" With his last words, he fucks into you a bit faster, curling his fingers to find the sweet spot which makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Me fucking you in front of all those uptight asshats, making you come over and over again? Can feel you squeeze my fingers, dirty little girl," he rambles, only inches away from your lips.

Heat licks at your skin, blood boiling hot from how good Negan makes you feel with only his fingers and this foul mouth of his.

"More, please," you choke out between whimpers.

Negan obliges with a sinister grin, withdrawing his fingers to add a third one, setting a fast pace with the first stroke.

"Oh my God," you moan high-pitched, feeling his fingers bump into your g-stop over and over again, the heel of his hand deliciously connecting with your clit.

"Shh, sweet girl," he whispers, "gotta keep quiet." His hand, not occupied with fucking you senseless, finds a home on your mouth, silencing your moans into little whimpers.

"That's better, isn't it?"

You're unable to answer him, hands flying to his forearm, clawing at his muscles because of the immense pleasure. You feel full, so full of him and those are just his fingers.

Legs beginning to shake from the upcoming orgasm he's going to fuck out of you, against the wall of your house, at a back alley hidden only by the shadows of the night, you feel yourself spiraling. You moan into Negan's palm, not even able to stop yourself from drooling all over his hand with how good and stupid he fingers you.

"Look at that. You gonna come like this, stuffed full of my fingers," he whispers into your ear, tenderly biting into your earlope while his hand pumps away between your legs.

"Go on, baby, come all over my hand, c'mon."

His words drive you over the edge with full force. The white-hot pleasure crashes over you, body shaking in his grasp, your screams of pleasure silenced by his hand which is still firmly pressed against your mouth.

"There you go, my sweet girl, fuck, look at you, making a mess," he praises, talking you through it.

When the last tremours of your orgasm travel through your body, he lowers his palm from your mouth and withdrawing his fingers from your core.

Drawing in harsh breaths, you register that both his hands are drenched from you, one from your salvia, the other from your orgasm.

"Shit, my girl's a wet one."

His girl. Your heart hammers in your chest, not only from your earth-shattering orgasm. You wipe your mouth, searching Negan's lips for a sensual kiss.

"Shut up, Negan." You slap his arm playfully, a breathless laugh escaping you. Taking his hand, you take some wobbly steps to the porch of your house. "Come inside."

"Oh baby, if you insist," he answers with a sinister smirk, following you into your house.

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan smut

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loquaciousferret · 2 years ago

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Over And Done With

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: persistent but not dubcon or noncon. javi being a cocky rude asshole (you all know my Javi by now) smut 18+, oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, sexism

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Javi is still my leading man guys... Enjoy this little piece of filth. Thank you for over 1k on my other two Javi oneshots, so grateful! Thanks to Lucy and Gi as always for thots with me ;)

Playlist: Dark But Just a Game - Lana Del Rey | Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala | Business - Catfish and the Bottlemen | Californication - Red Hot Chilli Peppers

You waited until the office was nearly empty. That wasn’t a deliberate choice, simply a consequence of how long it took you to pluck up the nerve to face Agent Peña and tell him that the meaningless sex you two had been having for the past few months was over.

You knocked on his door and he drawled to come in.

You opened it and crossed the threshold to his office timidly. He was standing at a filing cabinet, rifling through papers, a tight white shirt stretching over his wide shoulders and strong biceps- Stop it. You tell yourself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He says, his gaze rising to meet yours. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail up and down your body shamelessly, fixing for a second on the exposed skin of your thighs, and again on your chest.

“We need to talk.” You say firmly.

He doesn’t even attempt to hide the insolent roll of his eyes. He loosens his tie and reaches for the cigarettes on his desk.

“Really?” He says, irritated.

“This… Arrangement between us. It’s over.”

“Wow.” He says, sarcastically. “And the hits just keep on coming today. What put that stupid thought in your head then, huh?”

You narrow your eyes. Why does he always have to be such a dick. You ignore the question.

You make your way towards his desk and reach into your purse. You retrieve a set of handcuffs and clatter them onto the tabletop.

“You forgot these in my bedroom.” You say, feigning nonchalance.

“I didn’t forget them. They were there for safekeeping.” His smirk is growing with each comment he throws at you.

“Well, I won’t be needing them anymore.”

He has a smug and infuriating expression. “No, keep ‘em. They’re a parting gift.”

“They aren’t yours to give. They’re the property of the US government.”

“Riiight.” He agrees, in a mocking tone.

You turn to leave and hear him sigh. “Thanks for stopping by, sweetheart. My place or yours tonight?”

“Peña-" You huff in frustration, turning to face him. "Have you not listened to a word I said? We are done.”

He takes a lazy draw of his cigarette, not wiping the taunting smirk off his face the entire time.

"No, we're not." He shoots back.

You sigh. "Why do you have to be so difficult? It's not a big deal, we don't even like each other, in fact, I barely tolerate you, so-"

He cuts you off "Then why do you keep coming back for more?"

You shake your head and turn away from him, not pleased with the direction of conversation, and desperate to get out before he can work his magic on you. But he stalks towards you, and though you had nearly reached the door he is spinning you round to face him and presses your back into it instead.

"I-"

"Shhh," He coos. "I know why. You crave me. Like an addict needs a hit, baby."

"No, I-"

"Yes. That's why you beg me for it. That's why you give yourself to me, any time, any place." His voice has dropped to a whisper and he is so close to you, his hot breath causes goosebumps to raise on the surface of your skin.

"You see how your body reacts to me?" He smirks, "I haven't even touched you, cariño."

"Just admit it." He urges you.

You somehow gather the resolve to shake your head, and a passing thought tells you that you should have attempted this in a more public place so he couldn't accost you like this and throw the whole conversation off track.

You reach out to push him away and create distance between you, trying to escape from the overwhelming cloud of his scent that envelopes you. Citrus, tobacco, sea salt, gunpowder.

"Please, Javi, no, I-"

He takes you by the wrist to stop you from pushing him, and his other hand lifts up your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. They are dark with lust and menace.

"Fine, baby, we can stop." He says, a sweet tone to his voice that you know is too good to be true. "On one condition."

"What?" You respond, somewhat breathlessly, still lost in the sensation of his heady presence.

"You let me slide my fingers up your skirt. If you're not dripping wet for me, I'll let you go."

You know that arousal has been growing between your legs ever since he invaded your personal space. It was an animalistic reaction, but one that betrayed your true feelings, leaving you vulnerable to the dominating Javi. Your thighs were clenched together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but it wasn't working.

"Don't be ridiculo-" You begin to protest.

"I'm not. Stop trying to deny your body what it wants. What you want. You want me."

When he slips a large palm between your thighs and begins to gently prise apart the tight grip you have them locked in, you know you are completely beat. One touch from him and you will fall to his mercy, desperately chasing the pleasure you know he is capable of giving you. And this reminds you exactly why it is so hard to ever break things off with Javi. He is utterly relentless, and there are no rules when he is in charge. He never gives you a fair chance.

A small moan escapes you, and he chuckles. You hate that in this game you are trapped in with him, you can never help yourself from showing your cards too early, always emboldening him further to take from you what he wants. And he is right, you do want it too, as destructive as it is to give yourself to someone like him, you can't deny the way he makes you feel, and you end up right back where you started every time you attempt to withdraw to a safe distance.

His fingers graze the hem of your panties, then, he must change his mind, withdrawing them. You whine, giving away more and more just how much you desire his touch. You are surprised when he is dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Jav-"

"Shh, baby." He says. He takes the fabric of your skirt and pushes it up your legs, slowly exposing your skin inch by inch until it is bunched around your hips and he is separated from your arousal by only your thin red lace panties.

"Who are you wearing these for if you weren't planning on being with me today?" He says, licking up your thighs and sucking lightly at certain spots.

You whine pathetically at the sensation and his lips tickle you as they curve into a smirk. He puts a hand between your legs and seperates them further, putting his head between your thighs and pressing his face into the fabric. He inhales deeply and groans, sending vibrations through you, making you throb with desire.

"I'm gonna taste how turned on you are for me." He whispers.

He hooks fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs. The cold air hitting your hot, wet core makes you shiver. You step out of your underwear and he stuffs them into his pocket.

He returns to being nestled between your legs and places kisses to your inner thighs, making his way closer to the spot which needs his attention at a teasingly slow pace.

You manage to keep quiet and resist from begging him to hurry up.

Thankfully, he finally licks a wide stripe up your entire core. He literally moans gutturally as he does so. He sends your head into a spin every single time he eats you out like this, so enthusiastic and starving for you.

He alternates between licking up and down your folds and stopping to focus on your clit at the top, sucking gently, circling his tongue around it, constantly varying his pace so that every time you started to get used to the sensation, he would have you whining again by changing up the intensity. He then focusses on your tight entrance, inserting his tongue and then fucking you with it, licking up the arousal leaking from you.

Then, he grips your thigh, and swings your leg over his shoulder to improve his angle of access to you. This practically makes your knees buckle, and he has to hold you up with both hands as he continues to feast on you.

You start to feel your orgasm building and grip his hair, rolling your hips against his mouth to increase the pressure. He senses all of these changes in your movements and knows you are close, focussing his attention entirely on your clit in a steady rhythmic fashion that he knows will take you over the edge.

It doesn't take long before you are shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. But he doesn't stop, harshly warning you to quiet down because there are still people around the embassy and these sounds are only for him. He sucks on your clit gently until it is overstimulated and tears begin to form in your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls back, but you only get a moment of reprieve until he is jamming two fingers inside your cunt to replace his mouth. Your wetness makes it relatively easy to take but you still mewl at the sensation. He curls them and their length allows them to hit a spot deep inside you.

Everything about being intimate with Javi is levels of intensity far beyond what you can achieve alone, or that you ever have with previous lovers. He brings a whole new meaning to the idea of pleasure. You don't tell him this. His ego is big enough.

He brings a thumb to your clit and brushes it gently, continuing to torment you with his two fingers which entered you, scissored and curled, slipped back out of you, and thrusted back in. His pace was inconsistent, so you were left on the edge, never knowing what to expect. As he starts to rub your clit in circles, you notice how sensitive you are from your first orgasm.

"Javiiii-" You drag out the syllable as you whine loudly in pleasure.

"You're gonna cum again before I fuck you." He growls.

"No, no, please." You say, your legs shaking. He combats this by pinning your thighs to the wall with his free forearm, keeping you stuck there.

"It wasn't a question."

He kisses at your skin, wherever he can reach, as he continues to work you with his hand. He presses his lips to your hipbone, then trails down to the thickness of your upper thigh, his moustache tickling you as he travels downwards. Then, he sucks lightly, and you gasp. He nibbles and sucks harder, trying to leave marks. He has a somewhat possessive side to him, revelling in marking your body whether it be with hickeys or handprints. Not in places that others will see, just in private spots where he can admire them for himself.

You know he is trying extra hard to be generous just to remind you why you aren't going to cut him off. He is taking his time on you to prove to you all the reasons why you won't really stop seeing him. It is obvious that this is his ulterior motive, and yet it is working, you start to think you were too rash in your decision to end things.

His tongue flicks over the painful marks he has sucked and bitten into your inner thighs. It tickles and this adds to the once again growing sensation of an orgasm, one that you know is going to rip through you with even more ferocity than the first.

You are whining and moaning his name, panting as the tension inside you reaches a peak, ready to snap at any second and have you unravel all over him.

When it does happen, you think you go slightly dizzy. Your mouth falls open into a scream that never actually leaves your room. You are overwhelmed into silence, your body twitching. You curl your hands through his hair and try to pull him away from you, and he finally obliges.

He takes you by the hand and pulls you away from the door, locking it behind you and moves you both towards the desk. He sits you on top of it, on top of no doubt important government documents. He unexpectedly kisses you on the head, and even in your blissed out post-orgasm state, you note that this is the first time he has ever done this.

But the moment is over quickly, as he is soon spreading your legs again, unbuckling his belt and releasing his erection from his stupidly tight jeans. It doesn't matter how many times you sleep together, you never get used to the size of it every time you see it.

He unbuttons your blouse and slides it off your arms. He stares and takes you all in.

"All for me." He says, dipping his head to the curve of your cleavage and plastering kisses there, stroking his cock against your folds to gather lubrication. You moan at the feeling of it sliding through your sensitive parts, nudging your clit and making you hiss sharply. The next time he comes down to your entrance, he stills. He presses a hand onto your chest to lay you backwards onto the desk. Then he plunges inside you at full force and your back arches from the table top instantly.

You exclaim and he presses a hand to your mouth. The other is gripping one hip, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust. He has chosen to start with an immediately punishing pace. You know that he is impatient now, having spent so much time on you, that he wont want to draw out his own pleasure, and will use your body now without mercy to reach his own release.

The desk screeches against the floor and some objects roll off the side. This doesn't so much as cause him to falter. He is hyper-focussed on the task at hand, his gaze fixed on watching himself slam in and out of you, only occasionally looking up at you to appreciate the look of pleasure on your face for a moment before looking back down at the place the two of you are connected.

He removes the hand from your mouth and takes it to the other hip, thrusts now impossibly forceful with him pulling your whole body weight against him with every single one.

You wrap your legs around his back and lock your ankles together, pushing him slightly deeper inside you and he grits his teeth. "Fuck, cariño. Tan apretada."

"So tight," He repeats, "You like it, huh?"

You can't respond, too consumed by pleasure. You nod pathetically and you can feel his smirk burning down on you, you know he is watching your face now, admiring the way he can make your expression twist, your mouth fall open, and your eyes squeeze shut.

The feeling is so intense that you are growing numb to it, he is rhythmically slamming against your deepest spots, causing you to whine and whimper, your limbs going slack.

He always becomes more vocal as he reaches his climax, and he does so now, You like my cock, huh? You come in here just to get fucked like this? I know you wanted it, sweetheart.

"You gonna take my cum inside you like a good girl?" He asks

You nod at the last one. "Please, Javi."

"You gonna beg for my cum?"

You whine, half in protest, half because he has somehow changed the angle to result in even more devastating thrusts.

"Do it." He demands.

You perform for him how he asks, using up what little concentration you have to plead in a sultry tone that he fill you up. That he make you his. That he remind you who you belong to.

Soon, he is grunting, profanity spilling from his lips as he tenses up inside you, filling you with hot spurts of his cum.

He stays inside you and leans down, kissing at your neck and chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and play with the soft curls at the back of his neck. The pair of you rarely indulge in a tender moment after sex. He seems so different today.

He does pull out after a few moments, and you pout at him, disappointed by the sensation and missing the feeling of him buried inside you. He smiles and runs a finger over your downturned lips. "Can't stay in there forever. You don't think I want to?"

He takes a few steps away from you, turning away from you to readjust himself. When he faces you again, leaning lazily against the wall, lighting a cigarette, watching you re-dress, his demeanour has completely changed back to usual. His cruel, taunting smirk has returned when you look up at him, straightening your skirt and readjusting it to where it should be just below your mid-thighs. He looks and notices one of the bruises he left just peeking out from under the hem.

You stare back but you don't have any words for him. He fills the silence, walking towards you.

"You see? We’re done when I say we are done, princesa. I'll see you later."

He pats your ass dismissively, sending you on your way, and you exit his office on weak legs. You should have known this would happen, you and Javi still aren’t over and done with yet.

My other smutty Javier Pena works: Partners | Little Games | All Work, No Play

Pedro Pascal Masterlist Taglist @silkiers @lovers-liability @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @atyourmomshouse01 @lucreziazaninelli @pedropascalfan221 @decaffeinatedweirdo @kamcrazy123 @kdogreads @dreamsofmandalore @serenaxpedro @777-wonders @im-the-daddy-here-5 @emcousland-blog

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A PERMANENT JAVI TAGLIST OR FOR ALL PEDRO WORKS

#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x reader smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #agent pena smut #agent pena fanfiction #agent pena fanfic

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heretoobsessstuff · 2 months ago

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Here’s a whumpy drabble i wrote last night instead of studying for my derm exam lol

John paced the small confines of the tower, his heart pounding as he waited. The young lieutenant beside him watched nervously, eyes wide, as if he feared John would snap at any moment. He had to give it to the kid. He felt it too—a simmering anxiety that threatened to boil over if he didn’t see Gale’s B-17 soaring through the sky any minute now.

He lifted the binoculars again, scanning the horizon. When he finally spotted a fortress trailing smoke, hope flared momentarily before dread took hold. The fort was beat to shit, almost looked like it was staggering. It was going to be a bitch to land. But also Please be Gale, please be Gale, please be Gale.

“Incoming!” he yelled, the urgency in his voice echoing off the tower walls. Below, chaos erupted as an ambulance sped closer to the runway.

“It’s my baby!” someone shouted from the ground, and John felt his stomach knot tighter, frustration mixing with fear. He turned to the lieutenant, voice taut. “Show ’em green.”

He fucking hated this part of the job—being stuck up here, powerless to do anything else, anything that was actually useful. He couldn’t even go down to meet Gale on the runway, to ensure he was okay with his own eyes. Instead, he had to count the forts and prepare forms for interrogation. This was exactly why he despised being an air exec.

“Hey kid,” he said to the lieutenant, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “go check on Major Cleven and come back and let me know, alright?”

The young man nodded, eager to please, and dashed inside. John let out a heavy sigh, eyes glued to the sky as he monitored for more incoming planes.

It felt like an eternity before the lieutenant returned, breathless and wide-eyed. “Sir, Major Cleven was mostly okay. He’s in interrogation now.”

“The hell does mostly okay mean? Is he hurt?” He snapped, heart sinking .

“Not majorly, sir, but he—”

“Bucky”

Crosby called behind him, swallowing hard before he spoke.

“Gale is going batshit crazy not letting the nurses touch him. We got him to the infirmary but he won’t let them stitch him up. Can you come talk to him? I think he’s pretty shaken up”

John was speeding past Croz before he was even done talking. He didn’t remember how managed to go from the tower to the infirmary so fucking fast but he could hear Gale yelling as he walked in. The sound pierced through the tension in his chest, and he pushed the door open to find Gale pacing, hands tugging at his flight suit, face flushed with frustration. Blood caked the side of his face, dripping down to his neck and John felt cold, his hands shaking as he moved closer to get a better look at him.

“Buck” John called tentatively, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “What’s going on?”

Gale’s eyes turned to him and for a brief second it looked like he was relieved to see John. But desperation took over his features immediately, voice sounding too loud in the small cot as he addressed him.

“I’m fine, John. I don’t need their damn help!” Gale snapped, his eyes wild. John felt a rush of concern; this wasn’t Gale. Gale was calm, polite, never snapped at anyone. He was always collected, unflappable. This Gale was unsettling. John felt his heart break as he watched him shake with fury. The nurses hovering nearby exchanged worried glances.

“Your forehead needs at least 10 stitches, Major. You likely have a concussion,” one of them said gently.

“I said I’m fucking fine,” Gale snapped, his frustration palpable. “John, please. Tell them I’m fine. I don’t need this. I need to—”

“Can you give us a minute, please?” John interrupted, turning to the nurses. They sighed, sympathetic, and stepped away, drawing the curtain closed behind them.

“Sit down,” John urged, putting a hand around Gale’s arm and guiding him to a nearby bed. “You’re not fine. You’re hurt.”

“I don’t want to sit—I need to get this fucking thing off me,” Gale said, agitation creeping into his voice as he shook John’s hand off himself and tugged at his flight vest but his hands trembled too much for him to be able to actually take it off. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated. John had never seen him like this, raw and unraveling.

“Here. Let me help you.” John’s voice softened, moving over to him slowly and maintaining eye contact as reached towards him. “Just taking this off, Buck. Stay still” Gale let him take over, his breaths came out harsh and panicked, eyes wide as he started at John working to unclasp the buckles. John tried to be as gentle as he could as he unbuckled the vest and let it drop to the ground.

“There you go, now lets just sit down for a second”

“No” Gale shook his head, his voice cracking, pushing to move past John.

“I can’t—I can’t just sit here. I need to go—I need to-.” He cut himself off with a gasp, breathing shallow as his body shook all over. John stepped forward, reaching out to grab Gale’s shoulders.

“Look at me. Focus on me, okay? You’re panicking. You need to breathe, Gale”

Gale blinked, momentarily stunned by John’s intensity. “I… I can’t.”

“You can,” John insisted, trying to keep his voice steady. “You can. In and out. Here”

He soothed, grabbing Gale’s hand and laying it on his own chest, trying to keep the shake out of his own voice as he took a deep breath.

“Deep breathes like me. C’mon darling”

He let the endearment slip, not giving a damn if anyone heard it. It seemed to do the trick, Gale’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes and kept his palm pressed to John’s chest, trying to pull air into his lungs.

“There you go. You’re alright”

John encouraged, voice soft as he guided Gale to a bed when he felt his knees weakening and pushed him down gently. He watched him closely as he sank down, shoulders sagging under the weight of his exhaustion as he continued to take choking breaths. John rubbed his back, up and down his arm soothingly, trying to avoid his injured head as he pushed his hair out out of his eyes and sat beside him on the bed.

Gale watched him lazily as he reached for his face, fingers grazing his jaw as he tilted his head slightly to reveal a deep gash on his head, blood seeping through the strands of blond hair. He felt a lump raising in his throat at the sight.

“Was it flak?”

Gale closed his eyes again, taking a few shuddering breaths as he shrugged.

“Don’t remember. It’s all a blur”

John hummed, lifting Gale’s hand to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“You need to let them take care of you, Gale”

“I’m fine, John”

“Need to let them patch you up first and then you will be”

“I can’t—I need to” Gale started to protest weakly again so John interrupted him.

“There’s nothing you need to be doing now other than resting and letting them fix you up. You can’t do anyone any good if you’re not okay.”

Gale swallowed thickly, eyes glassy with unshed tears as he shook his head.

“I lost so many men, John. So many forts. I let them down.” His voice shook, a lone tear escaping and travelling down his cheek.

“You didn’t let anyone down, Gale. You flew that piece of crap all the way back to England. No one else could do it. You got your boys through it.” John reassured him, forcing eye contact.

“You did well, darling” He added quietly, just for Gale’s ears. Gale looked at him for a second longer before he let out a long sigh and leaned to the side, resting his head on John’s shoulder. John took his hand in both of his, interlocking their fingers.

“Now I need to get you through it, Gale. I need you to be okay”

Gale opened his eyes, eyes softening as turned to look at John and took in his desperate expression. The tension slowly easing from his features. “Okay” he whispered, sounding defeated as he lifted his head and sagged back against the wall, hand not leaving John’s.

“Just… stay here.”

“Of course.” John kept his grip strong, grounding him. He turned toward the curtain to call the nurses. “He’s ready for you.”

They stepped forward, not saying a word about how John kept sitting there holding Gale’s hand so hard like he was scared he was going to slip away. He watched as they worked quietly and stitched up the wound on Gale’s forehead and cleaned the area.

“See?” John said gently, helping take Gale’s sheepskin off and getting him to lay back and get comfortable as the nurses finished their work and told them Gale needed to stay overnight for monitoring. “All patched up. Good as new”

Gale’s energy seemed suddenly drained. He gave John small smile and sighed as he closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax. John sat beside him, watching him fall asleep, counting the raise and fall of his chest and finally allowed himself to breathe.

#im sorry if it sucks #i needed to get this out of my system #lol #i hope you enjoy #now i need to go cry over my derm midterm #and try not to jump off thr balcony lol #mota #clegan #buck x bucky #mota fic #clegan fic #mota drabbles

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minafeu · 4 months ago

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I'm not the greatest at writing when tired and it's 11 pm before I got to school the next day but I thought I'd give a snippet of what I have so far. The chapter will be called "Girl, So Confusing" because the tension I've written is utterly divine and fits the title because the way Red be acting is so confusing to Chloe.( @uhhhh-em-draws-stuff this is for you pookie 😘)

Theatre class. A place where many don't have academic rivals but Chloe was unlucky enough to have her academic rival in her Theater class. Today they were doing line readings just to make sure the teacher picked the right people for the roles. Chloe reading for Juliet and Red reading for Romeo. An irony Chloe could care less for but still funny none the less. Red takes her hand as per the directions of staging "If I profane with my unworthiest hand. This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." Red had an annoying sly smile on her face, knowing she was slightly getting under Chloe's skin.

She take a deep breath and begins her line. "Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hands to much, which mannerly devotion shows this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch. and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." They make eye contact whilst Chloe recites her lines lines. It's obvious to Red that Chloe has honed the craft of theatre for many years which is almost impressive if it weren't for the fact she acted slightly cocky about it. It elicits a small chuckle out of Red, it being humorous that Chloe thinks so highly of herself.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers' too?" Reds voice is soft but firm. Chloe laughs slightly and states "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." She give an unserious smile, emulating the character of Juliet. It's almost impressive how well Red is doing as Chloe has never seen her so theatre. Red simply brushes off the slight look of disbelief on Chloe's face and responds. "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do: They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Her smile growing more cocky, her head tiltes slightly to the side as she watches to see how Chloe react. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake" Chloe speak softly, shaking her head lightly during my lines. She lightly looks Red up and down as she recites Red next lines.

Red steps a bit closer to Chloe. "Then move not while my prayer's effect I take." She takes Chloe's chin in her hand, just a few inches from her face. "Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged." Chloe rolls her eyes lightly, breaking character for but a moment. She clears her throat, takes a step back from Red and delivers the line promptly. "Then have my lips the sin that they have took." Chloe's gaze is questioning with a hint of innocence, replicating how a child of Juliet's age would have said it. "Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." Red looks into Chloe's eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips. "And scene!" Their teacher calls out.

After a few moments, Chloe goes to her seat and grabs her things, intent on getting to her next class to have peace for just a few moments. The only bad thing about next hour being AP history was perhaps the fact that the seating chart just had to have Red sitting right next to her. It was the only class they sat next to each other and every moment felt like hell on earth. As the teacher begins to give Red compliments on her compelling acting Chloe checks her phone and texts back her mom. After about a minute, the teacher begins to compliment Chloe who dutifully takes them. Red simply rolls her eyes. Ah yes, little miss perfect taking compliments like it's nothing. It's almost as if she isn't Satan incarnate in academia clothing and a pretty smile.

(now published as a full chapter on ao3)

#glassheart academic rivals au #glassrose #glassheart #charminghearts #redcharming #chloe x red #red x chloe #red of wonderland #red of hearts #chloe charming

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nekropsii · 8 months ago

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Small Atomic Ask Bomb!!

I've got a bunch of short asks that I'd hate to spam the dash with individually, so I'll just put 'em here, under the cut!!

Content Warning: Long, Brief Discussions of Racism, Misogyny, Grooming, Brief Mentions of Incest and Pedophilia in Fanfiction.

I've always been a hater, and I honestly don't really think it's a bad thing - not as much as everyone says, at least! I think being kind of a bitch about things that don't matter is good for you, actually. Gets the urge to be angry out in a way that's healthier than just snapping at people in critical moments. I also just think being strong and passionate in your convictions is good for you. Being a hater gives you a spine if you do it right, and it fires a gunshot and scatters people you don't really want to be around. It also has the funny side effect of people thinking I take things way more seriously than I do, just because I'm opinionated and will state said opinions clearly. Big fan of this meme:

This is me.

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I used to peek in there every now and then, just to be nosy. Incest at the top, always. Or straight up pedo shit. Sigh. Looked in the Mituna tag a couple times. CroTuna fucking nightmare hell dimension, always. Or KanTuna, which I also have gripes with. Or KanMiTula, which I have even more gripes with.

It is my understanding that the state of Homestuck fanfiction hasn't gotten much better since the 2010s. Everyone is wrong and no one is normal. Sad.

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I don't know if the mere act of only making Jade and Jake brown out of all the Kids is Racist on its own, per se, but it is kinda silly in the sense that, you know, John and Jade are siblings, so realistically they'd look similar. And... People absolutely do get racist about it. Like, making Jade and Jake uniquely huge, hairy, threatening, and oddly shaped - gangly in the context of Jade, buff as hell in the context of Jake. I've seen some SEVERELY racist drawings where Jade and/or Jake were the only hints of melanin in the Kid line up and... Oh my god. It can get to straight up caricature levels. Watermelons and everything. Just comedically racist.

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Genuinely one of the dumbest fucking things in the world. People will say literally anything. Saying Damara isn't Japanese is on par with calling Porrim a fucking Men's Rights Activist. It's a funny little claim people who are grievously wrong say as a condemnation of the Alpha Trolls for no reason. Why. To look smart? To fit in? Dumbass. Notice how they always have to invent bullshit lies to critique anything instead of just saying things that are true. It really frustrates me how 99.9% of Alpha Troll criticism just isn't at all legitimate when there's some real, genuine issues you could critique. It's stupid horseshit. I hate it so badly.

I don't actually care whether or not someone likes the Alpha Trolls, but at least hate them accurately. Come on.

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@sleepy-apparition

Everyone is so, so quick to turn a blind eye to just how violently misogynistic Kankri is, lmfao. Genuinely, I don't think I've ever seen anyone other than myself bring up the fact that he's an avid Slut-Shamer in the modern day. Other than that, I only really saw older Mituna fanatics bring it up over in the early-mid 2010s, but none of them are around these days.

Genuinely, some of the shit he says is so appalling, lol. Kankri FULLY deserves to get his ass beat.

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I have said this before but I'll say it again - I do not think a Red Romantic Relationship will fix Dirk, or even really help him all that much. Before he gets into a RedRom, he needs some therapy, a break, and mood stabilizers.

However, I'm thoroughly of the opinion that a good BlackRom could work wonders on him, way more than a RedRom would. I think a solid, established Pitch Relationship with, like, Caliborn would be genuinely great for him, both mentally and in a Character Development sense. I hold zero interest in watching Dirk and Jake badly fumble a traditional romantic relationship - that notion is painful to me. ... But I do think I could read a full Intermission's worth of Dirk and Caliborn fucking around and not get tired of it once. They have a fantastic dynamic. It'd be good for Caliborn, too, I think.

This has been my Dirkuu propaganda bit. Thank you.

Also, the Voyeuristic feel of how people handle his Mental Illness. It makes me uncomfortable.

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True. I don't have any other remarks to make about this, you're just correct. True.

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... Fuckin'... Why, though? What- what's the appeal? There's nothing there. I literally cannot conceive any way in which that would be compelling, and I'd say Hal and Kankri are pretty high up there in the list of Male Homestuck Characters I Enjoy.

People will do anything but pay attention to Female Characters for five minutes. God. Lol.

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It's literally just DaveKat 2. I don't think it even qualifies as a Crack Ship when it's just a variant of The Fandom's Most Darling M/M OTP. It's just a deeply mid RarePair. Crack Ship would be, like, Dirk Strider x Rainbow Dash.

Dirk x RD was a popular Crack Ship, sure, but it's still a Crack Ship on basis of being a Crossover Pairing.

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I can't recall any specific instances of seeing this myself, but I'll believe it. People will do anything except be normal about Vriska. People will fight the war against Vriska on the side of and against Vriska at the same time. People will call her a Huge 8itch but then call her pathetic when she stops being a Huge 8itch.

We love Misogyny, I guess.

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Well, he is based on Tumblr, after all. Particularly how dogshit the politics are on here. Of course he would. He'd do numbers on here, considering his Woke Hate Speech.

It's called Bubblr, by the way. Like, canonically. We do know what it's called.

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It's actually based on the Three Wise Monkeys. You know, that old Japanese Proverb that goes "See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil"? That.

Kurloz is Speak No Evil, Meulin is Hear No Evil, Mituna is See No Evil.

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Great Question. My personal guess is that he's a little too nuanced for a lot of people to be comfortable with handling. He throws out too much surface-level Bigotry that people aren't willing to ignore because it isn't Racism for many to feel comfortable making him their Blorbo. When Dave says the N-Word and talks about how fucking Racist he is and it literally never gets acknowledged or resolved, that's fine and dandy, but god forbid Caliborn be a Misogynist in the funniest way possible AND have that get acknowledged literally constantly as a problem. The fact that Caliborn isn't a Fuckable White 13-Year-Old Twink means none of his crimes are ever forgivable because he's ugly and unshippable, or whatever.

The fact that he's Mentally Disabled doesn't help. People can't fucking STAND IT when a character is Mentally Disabled in a way that isn't Cute and Consumable, much less a character who is Unconsumably Mentally Disabled AND Complicated. It's just not allowed!!

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thegamingcatmom · 2 months ago

Note

How far will Mother Miranda go in giving into her birb behavior?

Silly thought:

MC on a park bench or something feeding the birds with some bread or bird seed

And then miri descends

A stare off? MC offers some to the weird birb lady

And then Miri swipes the bread away

Listen-

Thinking about Birb Momma´s urges is pretty much all I do besides eating and sleeping. 😭🫠

I think she´d try to remain as non-bird as possible though, lol. At least in public. She does have a reputation to uphold, after all. ;3

...

Miri: *sees some villager throwing seeds for the chickens*

Miri:

CONCEAL DON´T FEEL DONT LET EM KNOW MIRI. 👁️👁️💧

It´s a good thing she´s mastered the art of concealing herself in the 100 smt years she´s been parading as The Priestess...

In private though? With MC being the only witness (and death-threatened into secrecy)?

...

MC: *sleeping soundly*

Miri: *comes barging through the door*

MC: "WHA-"

Miri: *throws something on her*

MC: "-mpf!"

Miri: *stares*

MC: *untangles herself from that something and takes a moment to study it before throwing Miri a look*

MC: "...What-"

Miri: "We must begin the preparations."

...

MC: "...Uh-"

Miri: "Spring is drawing ever closer."

MC: "Ah, well thank God for that, right?? I love snow, but man, that weather´s been really starting to-"

Miri: *turns around and leaves out the open door again mid (one-sided) convo*

MC: "..."

MC: *merely shakes her head and makes to go back to sleep cause, by now, she´s become rather used to her roommate´s/abductor´s/lover´s/master´s quirks, but then remembers-*

MC: "Hm..."

MC: *takes the something and stuffs it under her pillow before cuddling back in*

MC: "...This is quite nice, actually."

MC: *snuggles in further, sighing in content*

A few minutes later...

MC: *back to sleeping soundly*

Miri: *walks through the open door, fully intending to-*

...

Miri: *sees MC snuggled in, something stuffed under her-*

Miri: "..."

Miri: *quietly approaches the bed, drops what she´s carrying very carefully, before leaving out the door again*

If one were to pay close attention, they might notice a slight spring in the Priestess´s step...

The next day...

MC: *slowly wakes up, yawning widely as she goes to stretch her lim-*

MC: "...Wha-"

MC: *tries to stretch her limbs, which are buried beneath layers upon layers of blankets and pillows and...other stuff*

MC: "Are you...kidding me?!"

MC: *starts sweating from the exertion...and from the masses currently squishing her*

MC: "UGH!"

MC: *has to give up cause there´s no escaping that*

MC, in a last resort: "MIRANDAAAAA!"

A few seconds later...

Miri: *swaggers in with all the confidence of a woman who knows exactly what she did (which pretty much means her usual self)*

Miri: "Hm?"

MC: "What do you mean Hm? Look at me!"

Miri: *looks at her*

Miri: "Mhm, appealing qualities indeed..."

MC: "Wha-that´s not what...UGH!"

MC: *tries to wriggle free again*

Miri: *watches her in a mix of amusement and...smt else*

MC, huffing and puffing: "...A little help here??"

Miri: "...Whatever for?"

...

MC: "...What do you mean Whatever for?? I´ve become one with the bed! I AM the bed!"

Miri, wearing her pokerface: "Hm, it would seem so."

MC: "..."

Miri: "..."

MC: "...Why?"

Miri: "...Spring is drawing-"

MC: "MIRANDA!"

...

Miri: "...The season is drawing ever closer."

MC: *eye starts twitching*

MC: "...What season?"

Miri: *cocks her head to the side before turning around and leaving out the door to get more stuff to add to the pile*

MC: *lies there in silence*

...

MC: *starts thrashing-"

Due to all the thrashing, dozens of black feathers are thrown up, dancing in the air for a while before slowly starting to descend. You watch them for a moment, mesmerized by their soothing drift, before you realize-

"...Ah, shit-"

Nesting season. 🪺

NOT ME IMAGINING CROW MAMA POPPING OUT THEM EGGOS. 🥚🫠

Everything that woman might do makes me feral.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

#tumblr asks #mother miranda #crow mama #birb momma #and a very tired mc #literally #resident evil village #re village #resident evil 8 #re8

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downbad4yoongi · 2 years ago

Text

Namjoon x reader

First Responder AU

Word count: 7156

Friends to lovers

Warnings: mature, smut 🔞(choking, vaginal sex, blowjob, fingering, edging), fluff

Summary: Namjoon's clumsiness proves to be your saving grace.

Thank you, @colormepurplex2 for the banner and the cheerleading.

The blue curtain partitioning off this emergency room bay from the others pulls back, the metal hooks jangling against each other as you lift the tablet in your hand to greet the newest patient to come into the ER. With a few swipes, you access the patient information causing you to stop short and snap your head up.

“Really, Namjoon! Again?” You look down at his lounging form, dressed in black joggers and a cream shirt, on the hospital bed cradling a heavily bandaged hand to his chest. At least he has the decency to look ashamed. You rest back on your hip, the tablet braced against your waist, “You couldn’t have made it five more days before ending up here again?”

Before he can respond, a fellow nurse walks up and silently holds their hand out. With an eyeroll and sigh, you reach into the pocket on the front of your scrub top and pull out three neatly folded bills and slap them into their hand. They smirk at the two of you before spinning with a loud laugh and heading back to the nurses’ station.

The chastised look on Namjoon’s face has morphed into a small frown, “What was that about?”

“That was about you not being able to go another week before ending up in my ER again.” You draw the curtain closed and move to his side, looking down at the tablet to review the information provided by EMS. You blink a few times at the screen before lifting your head to peer at him, “Nearly sliced your thumb off… how?”

You’ve known Namjoon two-thirds of your life seeing as he is your older brother’s closest friend. Ever since they were thrown together for a science project in middle school, they have been thick as thieves. In all that time, you don’t think you have ever seen Namjoon turn as red as he is turning right now.

Eyes cast downward and mumbles, “I was tryi-”

“Speak up for the class. I can’t hear you.”

With a roll of his eyes, his head flops back on the pillow, “I was trying to cook dinner, and turns squash is more difficult than I thought to cut through.”

Your lips purse, cheeks inflating in an effort not to laugh. The urge is a terrible pressure building in your chest; you turn, giving him your back, hand smacking across your mouth to muffle the laughs that do manage to escape. Tears prick your eyes in your effort to exercise restraint. Several beats pass with you taking in deep lungfuls of air before you spin back around to face him. “So, terribly sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

“Quite. Don’t think I won’t tell Teddy about how poorly his sister treated me when I was in need.”

“Whatever. It’s not like he’d expect anything else.” You set the tablet down on the rolling tray and wrap your fingers around his right forearm and pull it towards you to get a better look at the hastily done bandage wrap. You can already see that blood has started to seep through the final layers of the gauze. “I’ll be right back. I need to gather the necessary supplies to clean the area before the doctor comes to stitch you up. If you’re lucky, you won’t need surgery.”

You walk out of his medical bay, leaving his curtain open, and head toward the locked supply cabinet. Using the key on your lanyard, you open the doors and pull the needed items out before relocking it, and making a stop by the nurse's station to ask them to page the on-call doctor. Leaning against the desk, you giggle at a joke your coworker makes as she reaches for the phone to page the doctor. Before she can complete the action though, you feel the body heat of someone next to you, standing way too close to be appropriate. Your shoulders stiffen as the newcomer leans on the desk next to you, his left hand moving to lightly cup your waist.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

Straightening abruptly you step away, jaw tight as your eyes fill with anxiety. “You would have had to be here to understand. I’m going to finish prepping the patient, and then he’ll be ready for you.” You turn abruptly and make your way back to Namjoon. Your breath leaves you shakily as the items in your arms clatter onto the metal tray.

“What was that?” he asks, his chin tilting to gesture toward the desk, concern laced in his voice.

Shaking your head sharply, “Nothing.” You slip your small hands into the nitrile gloves as you angle to face him, “Now, let’s get you prepped.”

His frown deepens, but he holds out the injured hand out to you. Bracing his arm with one hand, you slowly start to unwind the gauze wrapping his injury. After a few minutes, light is finally cast upon the damage. The note about severing his thumb was a little extreme, but was a close description. You hold his hand closer to you, looking at it from all angles; a few more centimeters, Namjoon would be getting scheduled for surgery right now and you tell him as much.

“Stop being ridiculous,” he scoffs.

“I’m not being ridiculous, Joon. A few more centimeters and you would have severe nerve and muscle damage that could only be repaired by surgery and a lot of occupational therapy. So next time, buy the pre-cut squash, ‘kay?”

Your eyes flick up and catch his wide eyes, his face a bit ashen as he takes your words to heart and nods.

The corner of your mouth turns upward as you start cleaning the wound and treating it with a numbing agent in preparation of the doctor. Light chatter is traded between you both as you work. The banter comes to an abrupt stop as you feel a heavy palm against your back.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon that your shoulders tighten and jaw perceptibly clenches as you are joined by the ER doctor on call. You avoid looking at Namjoon as the doctor introduces himself to Namjoon.

“Hello, um, Namjoon Kim. I’ll be the doctor attending to you this evening. I’m Dr. Brogan Rothport. Looks like you are here because of a severe laceration?”

You can feel Namjoon’s eyes flick between you and the doctor, who’s hand is still resting on your back. You hurry through the remaining cleansing and slide out of the way as soon as you can possibly manage.

Dr. Rothport moves into the vacated space looking down at the supplies you already have ready for him. He hums under his breath, “Sweetheart, can you grab me a pair of gloves?” He turns to you with an overly– unwanted– smile. “Then we can get started.”

You yank two gloves out of the box on the wall and drop them unceremoniously on the tray, “Not your sweetheart.” You shift out of reach of the doctor, moving to the other side of Namjoon’s bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t mean anything by it, you’re just my favorite nurse,” he quips nonchalantly.

Before you can respond, Namjoon intercedes his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. “I don’t think she’s being ridiculous at all. After all she’s only one person’s sweetheart, isn’t that right, jagiya?”

You fight every instinct in you that wants to react and push Joon away from you. Instead you lean into his hold, your own hand gently sifting through the black strands of his hair, “You’d be correct in that, aegi.” You look down at him, and force yourself to smile at him and pray that it looks like a smile one would give to their significant other.

A sharp clearing of a throat breaks your gazes. “Oh, I wasn’t aware you had a boyfriend. I assumed you were single.”

You force a tight smile, the hand at the base of Namjoon’s head flexing a little, “Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow as he glares at you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were with someone?”

“Well, I tend to not talk about my personal life at work, and I am sure I’ve mentioned my love to you before. You’re just so busy that it’s probable it slipped your mind.”

You watch the doctor force a smile of his own as he gloves up, “This is wonderful news, regardless.” He threads the needle and glances at Namjoon, “Well, you should definitely come to the holiday party I’m throwing for everyone this weekend. I’d love to have you.”

A smile naturally spreads across Namjoon’s full lips as he meets the doctor’s gaze, “Of course I’m coming. I was so excited when she told me it was happening. We’re just quibbling over what to bring; we hate showing up empty handed.”

You ease to a stop in front of Namjoon’s apartment building and shift your car into park. Since you were at the end of your shift when he showed up, you agreed to drop him off at his place rather than him calling your brother to pick him up. The entire twenty minute ride was a stifling silence with a soundtrack of throwback hits. You shift in the driver’s seat, clearing your throat, “So how are we going to play this?”

Namjoon stills before shifting back to face you. “Play what?

“This fake relationship we are suddenly in.”

“We don’t have to play anything. Just tell you coworkers we broke up or I got sick or something.”

A sardonic laugh filters into the silence as you shake your head. “Yeah, no. You started us down this path, so you need to commit to this path with me.”

His brow furrows, “I don’t see why we would need to do that. No one is going to really care.”

“Joon, what do you think will happen when I show up to that party alone and Brogan realizes I am alone?” You shift your body to face him head on. “Ever since Brogan transferred to this hospital he has been invading my personal space, asking me out, and calling me ‘sweetheart.’ For six months, I have been dealing with this and I am at my breaking point.”

With wide eyes, “Wait, six months? Have you reported this to anyone? Does Teddy know about this?”

“I cannot have my brother storming into my workplace and assaulting an attending. I don’t need his good intentions to inappropriately escalate things. I reported the behavior to human resources a few weeks ago, but nothing came of it. Everyone at that damn hospital falls for his charisma.”

You watch Namjoon struggle to control his emotions, his jaw tense and his tongue stabbing a sharp dent in his cheek. You remain silent, letting him process. You glance back at him as his hand reaches over and cups your own. “Well, nae sarang, what are we bringing to his party?”

After a brief argument in the car about who would carry in the spiced cider, an argument you won after asking if he was trying to end up back in the ER if he ruptures his stitches, you step out of the warmth of your car into the chill winter air. You wait for Namjoon to join you on the walkway, your eyes tracing over the obnoxiously large house with a huge expanse of manicured grounds idyllically decorated with snow.

“Good lord, his house is as garish as his personality.” You start up the cleared walkway and approach the black front door with an ostentatious gold knocker and wait for it to open after Namjoon knocks. With a deep breath, you both slip into your roles as the door swings open.

Namjoon’s arm curls around your waist, you easily lean into his hold and paint a smile on your face as Brogan greets you and invites you inside. Namjoon’s hand slides to the small of your back ushering you inside before him. Brogan smiles at you, barely acknowledging Namjoon’s presence beside you, as he shuts the door. “So glad you could make it. You’re looking beautiful as always.” His eyes trace along the collar of your off-the-shoulder green sweater. “Really love your sweater… It's so festive.”

You suppress the shudder that begs to be let out. “Well, we are happy to be here. She talks so much about her coworkers, I can’t wait to finally meet them all!” You watch as Brogan finally looks away from you and nods his head in greeting at Namjoon.

“We are looking forward to meeting her elusive partner.” Brogan turns back to you. “Can I take that for you?” He motions at the spiced cider you’re holding.

You quickly give it up, eager for him to be away from you. Your shoulders relax as Brogan turns away from you, Namjoon’s hand rubbing soothingly against your back. “Let me take your coat for you.”

“Thanks, Joon,” you accept dropping your arms to your sides for him to slide your coat off. You straighten your dark green knitted sweater, waiting to the side for him to hang your coats up.

“You ready?” You can see the worry in his face that he is failing to mask.

Your fingers lace with his, “Let’s do this.”

You pull him behind you as you move from the foyer into the gathering area. This time a real smile dawns your face as you start greeting your colleagues. Namjoon easily falls into step beside you and plays his role to perfection. He knows exactly when to be an active participant in the various conversations and when to let you shine, interjecting cute anecdotes, witty remarks, or thoughtful observations.

He is currently in the middle of telling an embarrassing story about you from a few years ago, when a set of arms circles around your waist from behind. You know exactly who it is without evening needing to look. A soft smile chases away the blush that was heating your face as you lean into the hold. “Hey, when did you get here?” you ask over your shoulder.

Hoseok rests his chin on your shoulder, “We just got here. Someone,” his eyes cut to the side pointedly at Jimin, “wanted to swing by the hospital. He insisted he needed to check in on his patients in the NICU.”

You giggle, “Did he? Let me guess, that side adventure took an hour.” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms, telling you all you need to know. Jimin has always gone above and beyond as a nurse in the NICU of your hospital. In fact, that is how he met his husband, Hoseok, who is a nurse two floors down in pediatrics. Your giggles grow louder, accompanied by Hoseok and Namjoon’s laugh, drawing attention from folks not even in your small circle.

Your laughter fades because one of those people is Brogan. You stifle a sigh as you are pulled out of your comfort bubble. In your excitement to have your very close friends here, you didn’t notice the odd, surreptitious glances others have been giving you as you remain in Hoseok’s hold. You straighten and step out of Hoseok’s back hug and closer to Namjoon.

“What’s with the vibe change?” Hoseok’s eyes bounce around the circle.

Brogan clears his throat, “You seem awfully handsy with someone who has a partner. Last I checked, Namjoon doesn’t like that.”

“Also, she told us that this was the first time her coworkers were meeting Namjoon,” someone else throws out.

Hoseok and Jimin turn as a unit to look at you and Namjoon. You can feel their eyes take notice of the way his hand rests on your hip. In sync, they both slowly blink at you before turning back to the group. “Well, this may be your first introduction to Joonie here, but Hobi and I have been friends with both of them for years.” Jimin delivers with his signature smile.

Some of the tension bleeds from your shoulders as relief washes over you. You were worried for a second that Hobi or Jimin would inadvertently blow your cover. You lean into Namjoon’s side, his hand idly rubbing your hip, and smile because you should have never doubted that your close friends wouldn’t go along with your plan.

“Still Namjoon, you seem completely fine with Hoseok being all over your woman,” Brogan brashly throws out, staring Namjoon down.

Namjoon smirks, rising to the challenge, “One, she is her own person; not an object to own. Two, who she does and does not let into her personal space is her own choice. Three, why is this any of your business?”

You turn into him slightly, a huge smile on your face, “And this is why I keep you around.”

Namjoon’s head tilts towards you as he gives a conspiratorial wink, and you can’t explain what comes next. It almost feels like an out-of-body experience as your hand reaches up to cup his jaw, you go up on your tiptoes, and kiss him. You feel his fingers flex on your hip where they rest, before he relaxes into it and kisses you back. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his lips move against yours. Holy shit, you are kissing your brother’s best friend!

A clearing of a throat breaks you two apart, your eyes slowly open taking in Namjoon’s own bewildered gaze. You settle back on your feet with flushed cheeks and a soft smile, your fingers brushing against your lips in a daze. A hint of pink dusts Namjoon’s cheeks, your head turns back to the group and Namjoon leans close to whisper in your ear, “That was pleasantly unexpected.”

You capture your lip between your teeth as heat creeps up your neck. Not even Brogan’s piercing gaze can steal that moment from you. You catch out of the corner of your eye, Jimin discreetly throwing you a look of surprise. You give a tiny shake of your head and mouth a ‘later.’

Brogan claps his hands, his face stony, “Well while that was riveting, shall we move on to the gift exchange?” With hums of acknowledgement, everyone starts moving to grab the presents they brought.

Namjoon turns to you with a question in his eyes. You pat his chest, “Don’t worry about it. This was a staff exchange only.”

“Hm, that’s good seeing as I didn’t bring anything and was going to piggyback off your gift.”

You roll your eyes, “I would expect nothing less, Joon.” You head back to where you left your tote and pull out a gold gift bag with a sparkly red ribbon tied around the handles. “Since I am so gracious, this can be from both of us.” His chuckle resonates from his chest as he takes your hand again and leads you to the last open seat, plush chair next to the hearth. Namjoon takes the seat and pulls you onto his lap. You can’t help the small gasp of air that escapes you as he pulls you down with no resistance; rolling your lip between your teeth as his hand naturally comes to rest on your hip to hold you in place.

Across the grouping of chairs, Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at you. You shake your head diverting your eyes so as not to encourage him. Unfortunately, your gaze lands on Brogan and you catch him staring at you with narrowed eyes, jaw tense. His glare makes your skin crawl. You shift on Namjoon’s lap resting against him more, his hand soothingly rubbing your side as he catches your gaze. “Are you alright?” he whispers.

You gently knock your forehead against his, “Yes, because of you.”

The edges of his lips tilt upward. “Glad to be of service.” His eyes flick down to your lips and back to yours. You remain still as he leans in and brings your lips together, your eyes shuttering as your lips move with his. Quicker than you probably wanted, you pull back and brush your thumb along the edge of his thick bottom lip.

The eagerness of Jimin’s voice brings you out of your private bubble. “Gift time! I want to go first.” He reaches down to the side and picks up a lovely wrapped present and holds it in his lap. “I am sure you are all hoping that I was your Secret Santa because who wouldn’t. Lucky for me, though, I was given someone who I already was shopping for. Yeobo, Merry Christmas!” Jimin turns to Hoseok and slides the present from his lap and onto Hobi’s.

Hoseok’s whole face lights up with a brilliant smile. “What! How did you keep this from me?”

“One doesn’t reveal their secrets.” Jimin leans in and pecks Hoseok’s cheek. “Hurry up now and show everyone my amazing present.”

Hoseok resembles a little kid on Christmas morning with the way he attacks the wrapping paper. In seconds, a white box is revealed and from across the way you see the Louis Vuitton insignia embossed on the lid. Hoseok is practically bouncing in his seat as he pulls open the lid and lets it slide to the floor. Reverently, he reaches in, eyes wide, and pulls out a black on black crossbody sling bag.

Hoseok tears his eyes away from the gift to look lovingly at Jimin, “Sweets… I don’t even know what to say.”

Jimin smiles fondly at him, “A thank you and kiss would suffice.”

Hoseok laughs and leans in kissing Jimin softly, pulling back he presses their foreheads together, “Thank you.”

“That kind of feels unfair that you got your husband as your person, but whatever,” another pediatric nurse quips. That has everyone chuckling as the gift exchange continues. It’s not long after the plush rug is littered with paper and empty gift bags as it gets down to the last few people who need to hand out their gift.

You bounce a little on Namjoon’s lap, “I want to go next!” You give the bag on your lap a little shake, “I was really excited to get this person as I have been wanting to buy this for them ever since I saw it in the store.” You slip off Namjoon’s lap and cross over to Jimin. “Merry Christmas, Chim!”

You can’t miss the way his eyes light before making your way back to Namjoon. By the time you have settled back down, Jimin has already pulled the gift out. His hands gently stroke over the cream cashmere scarf in his hands. “Oh, this is beautiful.” He sends you a fond smile and wraps the scarf around his neck, “I love it. Thank you!”

“Only the best for my bestie,” you shoot back cheesily.

“While it has been a joy to watch all of this, it is my turn to give my gift.” Brogan stands up and picks up the flat silver-wrapped box at his feet. You figured out after the halfway point that Brogan was probably your Secret Santa, and you have been dreading it ever since. You sink back into Namjoon as Brogan approaches, he offers the present to you with an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.

You gingerly accept the box, setting it across your lap. Namjoon strokes your hip attempting to ease the tension running through you. He props his chin on your shoulder and watches you take apart the wrapping paper to reveal a white box embossed with the name La Perla . Your back stiffens and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck; Namjoon’s hand tightens on your hip as he watches you lift the lid off. Your lips purse tightly as you reveal the black lace corset lingerie nestled in tissue paper. Your hands grip the box edges, your body vibrating with a riot of emotions leaving you unable to speak.

Namjoon, sensing your turmoil turns his steely gaze on Brogan and gives him an overly-saccharine grin, “Didn’t know you were so thoughtful, Brogan. While I am perfectly capable of purchasing my love lingerie, we will definitely put this to good use.”

Finally getting a semi-handle on your emotions, you look up in time to see Brogan’s face tighten in anger, his cheeks tinting red. You lean back into Namjoon, head resting back on his shoulder as he reaches in to pick up the lace lingerie to show it to the group. “Yes thank you, Brogan. Despite it being very inappropriate to buy a colleague lingerie. I’ll make sure to wear it for my love; hopefully, it’ll make it through in one piece, Namjoon can get a little wild sometimes.”

“Lovely,” Brogan turns on his heel and walks out of the den. It feels like everyone releases the tension they were holding during that exchange and looks over at you, a mix of emotions displayed on their faces.

You cover your face with your hands, “What the fuck.”

“Mm, very quality.” You slide your hands down to peek at Jimin who’s gingerly holding the corset up and appraising it. “Don’t give me that look. He is a creep, but he does have relatively good taste.”

You snatch the garment from him and stuff it back into the box, slapping on the lid. “That is so beside the point.” You stand up and turn to look at Namjoon, “I’m ready to go. Are you?”

He nods and stands up taking the box from you as you quickly hug Jimin and Hoseok good-bye. Namjoon does the bro hug thing with them and then you’re in the foyer putting back on your layers. With one last wave, Namjoon opens the front door and jumps back, shouting in shock as a pile of snow rushes in through the open door.

Other guests start trailing in to see what the commotion is about as you look out the door and see piles and piles of snow have accumulated over the last few hours. Something that no one had realized because Brogan had drawn all the drapes to hold out the cold. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” you huff.

After an hour of arguing in circles, praying to a higher power, an almost brawl, and checking the weather reports, it's determined that you are all stuck for at least the night. You’re currently settled in one of several lounges in this overly large house with Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin.

“Did I do something terrible in a past life?” You throw the question out as you lay on your back across one of the sofas, your legs draped over Namjoon’s lap.

“Mmmm, probably. I always thought you did something devious in your past life. Maybe something like an interrogator or an assassin. Sometimes your looks can kill.” Jimin laughs as he catches the throw pillow you toss at his face.

“That was a rhetorical question.”

Hoseok clears his throat, “So are we not going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Namjoon’s hand rubs soothingly up and down your calf, “Like what a massive asshole Brogan is?”

“Yes, and that apparently you’re dating your best friend’s little sister.” Hoseok eyes the both of you.

Namjoon catches your eye and shrugs one shoulder at you, leaving the choice up to you. With a sigh, you shift to a sitting position but leave your legs on Namjoon’s lap. “I would have told you if I was really with Namjoon. He is helping me keep Brogan at bay.”

Jimin straightens up, “What did he do?”

You divert your eyes, worrying your lower lip. Namjoon gently squeezes your calf and answers, “I was at the ER–”

“Again?!” Jimin interjects.

Namjoon ignores the comment and continues, “I had cut my hand pretty badly and she was assigned as my ER nurse. I witnessed Brogan inappropriately try to flirt with her and invade her space.” He looks over at you, “She was clearly upset and uncomfortable, and so I acted on instinct and pretended to be her boyfriend to get him to back off.”

“It threw me for a moment, but I went along with it and grabbed that life preserver with both hands.” You look at Namjoon, your expression relaying how grateful you are for his intervention.

Hoseok snaps, “Can’t believe that prick still works at our hospital.”

“Money talks and Daddy’s money talks even louder,” Jimin quips sardonically.

The three of you nod solemnly. Hoseok softly claps his hands, “Let’s stop wasting our time thinking about that asshole. I’d rather discuss how your fake relationship somehow includes very real kissing.”

You duck your head, cheeks heating, “Um, I don’t really have an explanation for that.” You glance at Namjoon, “It just felt right.”

“Twice?”

Namjoon’s dimples appear as he laughs softly and nods. His fingers crawl up your leg to snag your fingers in his. “Pissed Brogan off didn’t it?” Namjoon says as his eyes fill with a contradicting message.

Your hands grip the cold edge of the marble countertop in the bathroom and take a few deep breaths. Your mind is a mess and can’t seem to settle on any one thought. You’ve really managed to stick your foot in it this time and now you have to sleep in the same bed.

Was he just playing along?

Did he actually want to kiss you?

Will he be expecting more after those kisses? You‘re not ashamed to admit you like what you’ve experienced thus far.

Do I want more? You lift your head and stare at your reflection. Worrying at your lip, you think about the consequences if you do what you want to versus what you should probably do. You release the pull you have on your lip having made your decision.

Namjoon is idly scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the mound of pillows on the king-size bed when you open the bathroom door and casually lean against the doorframe. The light from behind you perfectly framing every dip and curve of your body in the expensive lingerie that was gifted to you. You know you look amazing; the corset is perfectly cinched at your waist providing just the right lift to your breasts, the lace briefs highlighting everything it needs to.

Namjoon’s eyes flick over and then back to his phone but quickly snapback, his phone slipping from his hands, as he fully takes you in. You can’t suppress the smirk that lifts your lips as his eyes trail down your body.

He slowly sits up, “Um, what are you doing?”

“What feels good.”

He blinks slowly at you, his mouth still gaping.

“It would be a shame to waste all of this, no?” Your hand trails down your side from just under your chest to your hip.

Namjoon stands up and stalks toward you, the intensity of his gaze ensnaring yours. He comes to a stop, leaving just a breath of space between you. He lightly runs his finger along the thin strap of the corset, it’s more like a whisper of a touch actually. “It would be a crime to not take advantage of the generosity provided to us.”

Your breath shudders as that whisper of a touch teases along the top of the corset, teasing you. “Absolutely,” you whisper.

Namjoon’s lips crash against yours as he yanks you against him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching into him as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. You slide one hand into the hair at his nape, the other gripping the back of his shirt as you meet him with equal vigor. He slides his hands down your waist to your hips before sliding around to grip your ass and lifting you into the air. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around his waist, your tongues dueling with each other.

A grunt forced from your mouth into his as your back collides with the wall, his hips pinning you to the hard surface as his hands navigate back to your waist. You nip and pull at his thick bottom lip as his fingers dig into your ribs. He dives down to your neck, his tongue leaving behind a wet trail before settling on a spot and sucking.

Namjoon presses his forehead to yours, his breath gusting against your face, as he pauses the frenzy. He gently squeezes your waist, “Are you really sure? If we cross this line, there’s no going back.”

Your tongue traces over your lips and you nod. “I am very sure. Ever since that first kiss, I haven’t stopped thinking of the possibilities.”

As the last words leave your lips, his hips kick forward grinding your lower back hard against the wall as his hands wedge between to start popping open the fastenings on your corset. Your head falls back against the wall, his mouth leaving a string of purple bruises down the column of your neck. A surprised gasp is pulled from you at the sudden pressure of his teeth biting down on the skin of your collar bone. You arch into it, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

You feel the deep timbre of his laugh more than hear it, “Mmm, you liked that huh?” He unhooks the last fastener, your chest spilling free as the tension of lace falls away. You hold eye contact, your teeth digging into your own lip, as his large palm cups you and slowly starts to squeeze. The rhythm of your breathing falters with the slow increase in pressure around your tender breast, drawing a whimper from you. His eyes dart to the mottled skin around his fingers as he maintains the harsh grip he has on you. “There something you want to tell me?”

He releases his grip, the pressure from his hold leaving behind a dark reddish-purple ring around your breast. You buck your hips as much as you can as blood rushes back into the area. “Take my mind off tonight. Make me forget everything. I won’t break…but it never hurts to try.”

You can see the sparks ignite in his eyes as his lips collide with yours, this kiss punishing and intense. Before your body can fully react to it, your grip on gravity is yanked away as you sail through the air and land with a bounce on the plush bed. You lay there for a beat, heart racing before leveraging up onto your elbows. Fortunately just in the nick of time because you get a front row seat to Namjoon stripping off his clothes as he stalks toward the bed after you. The last piece of clothing, his boxer briefs, join the rest of the clothes strewn across the floor; your eyes can’t settle on any one thing to look at.

Namjoon is a fucking adonis. Your eyes run from his broad shoulders to the taper of his waist down to follow his v-line straight to the thick cock framed by even thicker thighs. A startled sound escapes you as he grabs one of your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the mattress, stepping in between your spread legs. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jaw before tilting your head back and meeting your eyes. His fingers slip back to cup the back of your hair, your body tensing in anticipation. Suddenly his grip on your hair tightens, yanking your head back sharply, “Tap out if it’s too much.”

You’re barely able to nod your head before being pulled forward and having your lips spread open by his cock. You roll your eyes up to watch him watch you as his hips continue their slow press forward only stopping when his tip is nestled at the back of your throat. He stills for a moment just taking the view in, but it’s not long before you become impatient. You flutter your lashes at him and that turns out to be the perfect thing to set him off.

His hips draw back and snap forward, his hand holding you in place as he starts fucking your mouth. Your fingers curl and hold onto the blankets under you as he uses your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him with the way his cock is perfectly stretching your jaw wide and coating your tongue with the taste of him. Your deep moan has his hips kicking forward even harder, his cock sliding down your throat. Your eyes sting with the pricking of tears as his pace intensifies, your body flushed with need as he takes what he wants from you.

“Fuck, your mouth. It’s so perfect,” he moans, head falling back on his shoulders before rolling to look down at you. “Just look at you taking my cock so well.” His pace slows until with one last deep push he buries his cock deep in your throat, your nose almost touching his pelvis. He keeps you there for a moment, your throat spasming as you choke on the meat of him.

Your seconds from needing to tap out when he pulls you off him, a thick trail of your saliva tethers you together before snapping when he releases his hold on your hair letting you collapse back on the bed. Your throat burns as you suck down air while simultaneously giving in to the urge to cough and clear your throat. Namjoon stands over you watching you patiently. It’s not too long before your body calms and you look up at him, face wet with tears and slick with your spit.

“Okay?”

You give a raspy laugh, “Never better.”

“Who knew you were hiding this side of you? How much more can you take?”

You bite your lip and lift one of your legs to slide your foot up along the hard planes of his abdomen. “I contain multitudes.” You slide your foot down until your toes are lightly ghosting down his length, “All of it.”

A visible tremor runs through you as Namjoon gives you a devious smile and glides his hands down your legs to the lace edges of your lingerie. He balls his fist in the front panel and yanks, ripping them from your body. Your hips are jerked off the bed with the force of it. A deep pulse throbbing within you at the aggression.

You can feel the weight of his gaze between your legs, you watch as he bites his own lip before sliding a finger through your swollen, wet lips. His finger dips in teasing you before he plunges two fingers into you. You arch off the bed with a gasp, your body clasping tight around him.

His fingers quickly work you into a frenzy, a deep heat coiling in your belly that has you yanking on the bedding around you. You're ready for the explosion of pleasure that is about to happen when his fingers yank free of you. Your eyes snap open, “What the fuck?”

He straightens and shrugs, “I don’t think you earned it just yet.”

If looks could kill, daggers would be piercing his chest right now. As is, he just chuckles at your frustration, grabbing you by the hips. He flips you over onto your front, your hips curved right over the edge of the bed. A ringing sound echoes through the room as a sharp sting blooms along your ass. His hand soothingly rubs the sting away before he grips both your hips and tilts you just right.

Your breath shudders from you as you feel his heat glide between your aching lips and teases your tight bundle of nerves. He repeats the motion again and again until you’re a mewling mess in front of him. Tears prick your eyes in frustration, your body desperate for more when the heat of his body leaves you for a brief moment before connecting back with you. His pelvis slams against your ass as he buries his cock inside you.

You don’t even bother to smother the scream that escapes you as he splits you open on his thick cock. You’re writhing on the bed, unsure if you are trying to get away or get closer to him. He waits patiently until you’ve calmed and have relaxed back into the mattress before moving again.

The slow drag of him leaving you pulls moans from both of you, your walls clinging to every inch of him. It’s only the tightening of his grip on you that gives you a warning as he snaps his hips forward again. The pace he sets is brutal as he fucks you into the mattress. Your hands desperately grapple at the bedding needing to hold on as he fucks you into another universe. The skin of your ass burning with the intensity of his thrusts driving you higher and higher.

You cry out as his fist wraps in your hair and yanks you backward, pressing your back to his chest. The tip of his cock hitting you at just the right angle has you clawing at his arms, your eyes rolling back in your head. One hand remains on your hip as he keeps pace, the other sliding to curl around the front of your neck pushing your head back to rest on his shoulder.

The cries you were letting out are swiftly cut off as his hand squeezes down around your throat. Your walls tighten around him as he slowly increases the pressure from just restricting your vocal chords to cutting off your air flow completely. The speed of his thrusts slows as your pussy clamps down tighter on his cock. A few more deep thrusts has your nails biting hard into his arms, leaving deep red crescents. He releases his grip on your throat and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs along with the waves of pleasure crashing through you has you seeing stars.

You’re almost completely out of it as Namjoon rams deep one more time and spills into your depths. You both fall forward onto the bed, Namjoon just manages to catch himself on his left arm so he doesn’t crush you. You’re unsure of how long you remain like that as you come back to earth, but soon he is pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom as you lay there eyes closed.

You jolt back to awareness when the warm softness of a cloth strokes between your legs. You squirm as he brushes against your sensitive pussy before settling back down when he tosses the cloth toward the bathroom door and helps you shift to lay fully on the bed. He shuffles in next to you and pulls the duvet over you both.

You curl against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you loosely wrap an arm and a leg around him. You nuzzle at the skin of his bare chest, “Mmm, so how are we going to break this to Teddy?”

#bangtanwhq #bangtanboys #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #friends to lovers #bts smut #bts namjoon #side jihope #jihope #bts fanfction #gift exchange #thanks for reading #first responder au #accident prone namjoon #bts ff #bts fanfic

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 8 months ago

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 2440 (chapter 51)

51. Bang

"Hello, Brett. Again." You smile awkwardly when you reach Mahoney, Matt and Foggy, involved in a hushed conversation.

"Wow, what are you... wearing?" Foggy is the first one to ask, looking at your silk dress and high heels. The silver cross catches light from one of the police cars, and Foggy squints to see if you're really wearing it.

"Uh..." You panic, looking down at yourself. No one would believe that you were a lawyer currently standing near the crime scene, and not a model who ran away from the photoshoot. "I was on a date."

Brett eyes you as well, visibly surprised to see you in something other than your lawyer outfit he has seen earlier today. "We meet far too often, y/n."

Matt clears his throat, bringing the attention back to himself and away from you. "I called. We work as a team." Mahoney bites away another comment and waits for either of you to finish your explanation about the mystery client, who was currently in hospital with Karen.

"Client privilege." Foggy answers to Mahoney's raised eyebrows from his previous question.

"Well, uh, Mr. Nelson, if that was true... Hypothetically speaking, I'd tell you that withholding your client from the NYPD would be obstructing governmental administration, and I'd probably just arrest your ass myself." Mahoney fires back, smiling, "In theory."

"I guess we really can't help each other after all." Foggy shrugs, fixing his jacket. You notice that he has ditched his office outfit and is wearing a comfortable hoodie underneath. Surely he has been home.

"Sergeant." Matt speaks up, "Why would an Irish mobster wear body armor to a private meeting inside his own club?" This makes you furrow your eyebrows and look at Matt confused. You didn't even understand why they called you here in the first place.

"Hey! Tell 'em to keep it down in there or somebody's getting written up." Mahoney shouts to a passing colleague, annoyed. "I help you, you help me?"

"That's all we want." Matt smiles briefly, making your heart skip a beat.

"There's a total clampdown on any of this getting out to the press. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Brett, you can trust us. We're lawyers." Foggy's words win over and Brett gives in, gesturing to follow him behind a parked police van.

"Come with me over here."

"Come on." Foggy urges the two of you, slowly dragging behind.

"DA's going batshit trying to figure it out. This isn't the first hit that matches this mode of operating. Call it massive gang-on-gang overkill. Downtown office thinks we got new players in Hell's Kitchen, and whoever they are, we're talking some kind of paramilitary-type organization with the training, knowledge and hardware to take out half the city." Mahoney looks around uneasy and disturbed. The sight inside wasn't pretty, and his eyes were telling exactly that.

"What do they want?" You step closer, and together all four of you form a circle.

"That's what's driving the DA nuts. We don't know who they are. We just know who they're not."

"I'd say they're definitely not fond of the Irish." Foggy shrugs.

Matt turns his head to the side, listening to one of the officers complaining about the situation, the last sentence draws his attention. 'You think? Where exactly am I gonna put this asshole? The morgue's completely full.This is worse than what happened to the Dogs of Hell.'

"Now, we got history, so I'll tell you as a friend, you stay out of this shit. If you got a witness, the smart move is to turn him over and walk away. Hell's Kitchen is about to explode." Mahoney is about to turn on his heel to leave, but then he looks at you, "I guess the Irish didn't get to use their warehouse stock after all."

"You hear that? He called me friend." Foggy slaps a hand on Matt's back, and pulls Matt away, a couple of meters from you, leaving you standing confused.

You catch up with Mahoney, "Hey, is Paxton gonna be okay?"

Mahoney rests hands on his belt, "Listen, I can't promise anything, and especially can't promise that this won't reach the district attorney, but, we have confiscated the ammunition from that warehouse, so the kids shouldn't be too worried about a possible connection to what happened here."

"So, if you took the guns before this..." You gesture back at the club, "that means that there's another warehouse fully packed, and it belongs to whoever has it against the Irish?"

"They really didn't explain anything to you, huh?"

You laugh shortly, sighing afterward, "No, I was on a date, not working night shift just this evening."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed that free time, because it seems to me that Mr Nelson won't give the witness to us easily, so... Enjoy working, y/n, goodnight."

"Yeah." You look at the ground, in thought, "Night." Foggy shouts something and returns back to you with a quick step, and alone. "Where's Matt?" Words leave your mouth faster than you'd like, and you clear your throat uncomfortably.

"Uh, he left. Said he has to stop somewhere on his way home." Foggy smiles awkwardly, "want to grab a cab?"

"Yeah, sure." You answer, watching Matt disappear in an alley, confused. This evening has been too much and a headache was forming in the back of your head.

"So, a date?" Sly grin appears on Foggy's face, and he eyes your dress again.

"Yeah. Figured it's time to... Start dating again."

"Huh. I noticed lately..." He fixes his hair, that are fighting a battle of their own with the wind. "You've been kind of, god, what's that word... Ah, glowing!"

"Glowing?" You laugh in disbelief. "Good joke Foggy."

"No, I'm serious!" He grabs his heart, offended. "I hope he makes you happy. And is at least better than that Fisk's guy."

Your smile falls slightly, and Foggy is quick to apologize. "No, it's alright."

Halfway through the city, Foggy asks the cab to stop in front of a shady bikers' bar, urging you to get home. You don't trust that weird thing going on with Matt and Foggy, so you stop the cab around the corner and walk towards the bar, slowly, trying to not draw attention to yourself with your heels clicking on the pavement.

The bar 'Dogs of Hell' looks terrible from what you can see outside, and you can easily guess that it's just as much of a pig house inside as it is outside. Snooping around gives you no results, so you try to get as close to the bar without alerting the huge man standing guard in front. Foggy is nowhere to be seen, so you sneak around the back, watching a buff guy push Foggy into the night. They both start shouting at each other, and you see a knife's blade shine in front of Foggy's face. Instantly alert, you try to think of ways you could help Foggy. Calling for help or cops would take too long and draw attention, and just your luck, you left your pepper spray at home. Glancing around your hiding place, you notice a brick and take it. For the sake of confidence.

"Shut up!" The guy shouts, pointing the knife again. You clutch the brick close to your chest and listen intently to any dangerous words.

"I helped a guy named Pope! Yeah, the VA said that his injuries weren't sustained during battle, but they were! They just didn't manifest themselves for 20 years." Foggy stammers, his voice getting higher when he's afraid. "Uh, we got his operation sorted and then, a couple of months later, he was back on his Harley, doing whatever it is you guys do. Which is none of my business!

"You helped Pope?" The biker asks, confused. Foggy nods slowly, but the answer he gets isn't what he expected. "Get the hell out of here."

"Really? What happened to Smitty?" Who the hell was Smitty?

"You serious?" He asks in disbelief, lifting the knife again.

"I came here for a reason. I just need answers! Look, if I don't get answers, a lot of innocent blood could be shed." The guy grabs Foggy by the collar of his jacket, and you tense, ready to go save him. As stupid as it sounds. "People who both you and I care about are gonna get hurt. And you don't seem like the most sentimental guy, but you're still listening. And that knife isn't in my neck, so I have to believe that right now, maybe you and I are on the same side." Foggy rambles, his lawyer skills coming to help.

"You got guts, Harvard, I'll give you that." The guy releases Foggy, and you let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Columbia, actually, but it's not courage. It's more like sheer adrenaline." Foggy fixes his jacket, breathing a fresh air of life, "Hey, look, I wouldn't be asking, I wouldn't be here doing this if it wasn't important."

After a long pause, the biker finally answers, "Smitty was on a run, I-90 with four brothers, transporting a big score. They were hit by a goddamn army. Their whole crew was cut to pieces.

Left there like roadkill."

"Any idea who did it?"

"Nah. New crew, doesn't matter. Whoever they are, we're gonna find 'em. And when we do, you wanna be very far away from the action. You didn't hear none of this from me. Now go." He urges Foggy to leave, "And don't come back!"

Foggy hurries to get out of here as soon as possible; just as he's about to pass your hiding spot, you emerge from the bush, dropping the brick on the ground. "Jesus!" He lets out a scream, quickly covering his mouth, but then he recognizes you and in a hushed tone asks, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" You shout back, but before you could interrogate your friend, Foggy starts dragging you out of this street, firmly holding your forearm. "What the fuck was that, Foggy? Who was that guy? Who's Smitty? Where's Karen and who the hell is that guy that wants witness protection?"

"Too many questions, y/n, just keep going."

"Foggy!" You pull your arm out of his grip, stopping in the middle of the dark alley. "Please don't lie to me. Not you."

His eyes soften and he sighs, frustrated. He didn't want to lie to you, but he also didn't want to betray Matt. "Smitty was my classmate, but obviously he joined the Dogs of Hell. And got killed by some other gang recently. The same one that put the Irish to sleep tonight."

"Okay. Where's Karen?"

"In the hospital, with Grotto." Your raised eyebrows are enough to keep Foggy talking. "He was involved in that bar shooting, and now he wants witness protection, so he could save himself from whoever is killing everyone."

"Oh God." You close your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.

"Although... he said that it was one man."

"One man? Is it possible? To have all the ammunition and... He has to be at least military trained." Your eyes widen, understanding just how dangerous this man is.

"Yeah, that much I figured out myself."

***

The office was quiet and empty when you came, and remained like that until you finally got a hold of Foggy somewhat before noon. You weren't complaining, obviously the silence was nice, and you finally had time to finish some leftover work papers that were pilling up for the last couple of weeks, but soon the empty office walls started to feel depressing and loneliness crept on you.

Foggy was currently monologuing with Matt when you called again, and this time he decided to answer. Matt was about to protest against it, but Foggy was already speaking, "hey, y/n, something happened?"

"Yeah, where the hell is everyone? Or is it a holiday that I've never heard of?" Your voice is stern, and Foggy visibly vinces.

"There was something... But it's alright now. Karen's supposed to be at the station now, so, could you go there and help her?"

Foggy's lying skills were beyond terrible, but you had no time to ask any more questions, since he ended the call. "What is going on in this hell-hole?" You ask yourself, walking into the tiny kitchen to make a cup of coffee before going to the station. Karen hasn't replied to any of your texts, so while waiting, you call Matt once again today. It goes to voicemail, but this time you leave a message.

"Listen, Matt, I've been calling everyone like crazy this whole morning, and since no one tells me shit or shows up to work for that matter, I'm getting really worried." You sigh heavily after a mild pause, "I hope it's not related to what I said, or didn't say during our dinner. And I hope you're not avoiding me, please, just call me back ASAP, because it's insane out there. Love you, bye." You end the message, slightly cringing at yourself for telling 'love you' on the phone, but you will get used to this, eventually.

The automatic voice tells Matt that it's the end of the voicemail, and silence settles in his living room. Foggy stares at the table, where Matt's phone was put, not a single thought in his head, whereas Matt was rubbing his forehead in shame, and pain.

"What?" Foggy finally utters, casting his eyes at Matt. "Love you? Are you two together?"

"Foggy it's n-"

"It's not? That's your excuse?"

"No! It is... We just didn't want to tell anyone." Matt sighs, sitting up. His head hurts, whole body's sore from last night's fight, he's tired, angry and hungry, and this is not what he thought was gonna happen when your call went to voicemail.

"How long?"

"More than a month."

"Does she know? About your nightly deeds?" Foggy's voice cracks, he starts pacing around the living room. "Since she's so against the devil, I'm guessing not."

"No, and I prefer to leave it that way."

"Matt. How many more lies are you gonna create?"

"Not today, Foggy, please?"

"Then when? When someone's gonna beat you up and she finds you in a pool of blood just like I did?"

"Foggy-"

"Get your head out of your butt for once, Matt. Here's your aspirin. Don't choke on it, Daredevil." Foggy hands Matt the pill and puts a glass of water on the table with force, leaving the apartment without another word.

#matt murdock #bound by law #marvel daredevil #foggy nelson #matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #matts superhearing complicates things for you #daredevil #marvel #lawyers #karen page #frank castle #the punisher

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