#i was sweating i was about to give up but i did it. i did it. amazon.co.uk my beloved she would never do this to me
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play fighting with katsuki<3
katsuki had said time and time again, "don't wanna hurt you on accident, baby. cut it out."
but you were relentless. you craved, needed and practically begged for katsuki to wrestle you to the ground as you flailed uselessly under him.
there was something about the way his forearms flexed as he pinned your wrists to the plush carpet of your home; katsuki would grin wickedly as he straddled you and brought his face centimeters from yours. "had enough yet?"
"nope," and you're worming your way from his gentle grip to kick up at his chest, though he catches your foot with ease. "hey, no fair! don't fold me!"
but he had already decided, you needed to be brought back down to earth. katsuki's hips solidly glue to yours as he leans over fully to bring your ankles by your ears. he had you folded like a pretzel. no matter how you squirmed and whined, katsuki had you in the most delicious mating press.
"yeah, i know, justtt fuckin' take it. you asked for this, nah, you begged for it."
he had you crying, hands pushing your thighs closer to your head as his cock drove into you over and over again. katsuki's a sweaty mess above you, tongue dipping out to lick at his lips while his eyes honed in on how your gummy walls gripped the base of his cock with each thrust.
"katsuki, kats', katsuki!! i can't, 's too much!"
"uh uh," he tuts and shifts his hips till he's angled upward and battering against that spongy spot deep inside you. "you wanted to fight, so we're fighting, baby. you're losing."
your face scrunches up and he grins cockily at your bleating whimper, "you're too strong! it's not fair!"
"not fair? 's not fair? awh, but weren't you just begging me to get on top of ya? you wanted this as much as i did."
you can't say no, in fact, you can't even reply as your husband fucks your brains out. his hips messily clap against yours with slick thumps against your ass; it smells of sweat and sex, and katsuki is reveling in your body as he rolls his fat cock deep into your guts.
"fuck, 'm in there, aren't i? fuuuck, i love fucking this sweet pussy. you just know what to do," he groans into your neck, hunckering over you to relentlessly pound you into your soft carpet.
"gonna cum, gonna cum!!"
you can barely reply to him, only able to feel how he fucks into your cunt with the ferocity of a man starved. a man in control, and you're delirious as you wrap yourself around katsuki as an anchor.
he knows your body, knows you're getting so close when your pretty feet curl into crescents and your head flies back—your hair splayed out on the ground and looking so delectable as the swan of your neck grows exposed.
"yeah, that's it, fuckin' cum on my cock. cum for your husband, you know you wanna give in."
and you do give in. hard. you're crying out and squirting from effort as your orgasm overtakes you. katsuki is right behind you, driving his hips deep one last time before spurting creamy white inside you. you can feel each pulse, and it drives you so wild that your eyes roll back.
"thereee we go," he grunts, hips twitching as he massages the backs of your thighs. katsuki lightly pats your cheek, thumb rubbing over the plump skin before pulling away.
"that was only round one, you know. i wanna go again," he's nosing at your jaw now, still having you pinned underneath him. "let's go again. come on, you can take me."
and you do, willingly. naturally, katsuki ends up tackling you to the ground with a joyful laugh, and all you can do is smile and let your man do what he does best. fight and fuck.
#katsuki bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x black!reader#bakugou x black!reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou x y/n#bnha x reader#bnha smut#mha x reader#mha smut#bakugou katsuki smut#bakugou smut#boku no hero academia#boku no hero x reader#my hero academia smut#my hero academia imagines#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero academia smut
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MEDICINE - SPENCER REID X READER
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About: The team goes out for drinks after a successful case and Spencer already knows that he’s going to end up taking you home.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, public handjob, public fingering (f), finger sucking, post!prison spencer, smallest mention of hand kink, brief bisexual spencer mention, reader gets fingered in the back of a taxi, spencer gets a handjob in the bar, oral (f), drunk sex, briefest mention of throwing up (doesn’t even happen, just a passing comment), rough sex, guys this is really just dirty porn. if i missed any warnings, just lmk!
Word Count: 5.5k
A/N: Hey guys! This fic is based off of Medicine by Harry Styles. The lyrics are out of order because they’re meant to go with the story lol. Please comment and reblog with your thoughts!
I'm here to take my medicine, take my medicine
Treat you like a gentleman
Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline
I think I'm gonna stick with it
It was a warm spring night as the team had just returned from a very successful case in Kansas City, Missouri. A case that had involved children being kidnapped had ended with all of the kids being alive and well, returned to their parents unharmed. Seeing the happy faces on the families’ faces was heartwarming and gave the team a sense of fulfillment with their positions, a consensus that not everything is always so traumatic.
When they had landed back in Quantico, the drive back to the Bureau was filled with chatter and laughter as everyone relished in their triumph. You and Spencer were sitting next to one another, thighs grazing as you both paid attention to what Luke and Tara were talking about.
“We should celebrate with a couple of drinks,” Tara exclaimed loudly enough for the rest of the team to hear.
“Oh, that sounds like so much fun,” JJ practically groaned in excitement, leaning her head back. “I haven’t had a night out in ages and the boys are at my mother’s for the weekend while Will is down in New Orleans.”
“We most certainly have to invite Penelope as soon as we arrive at the Bureau,” Emily said from the passenger seat, grinning through the rearview mirror. “What about you two in the back?” Emily asked, looking at you and Spencer.
Spencer gave you a subtle glance with a quirked eyebrow. An unspoken question as to whether you were going to go out or not. If you did, Spencer already knew that he would because you were very persuasive.
You were unsure of how this whole thing started. One day, after Spencer had gotten back from prison, the two of you were alone in the bullpen, and then the next moment you were in the elevator as Spencer fingered you so fast that you had cum in what felt like a record amount of time. That night ended with you in Spencer’s bed as he pounded you into oblivion.
Perhaps it had been a long time in the making. The glances you two shared, the way Spencer always looked at you as though you were an art piece that was to be admired, the way Spencer’s intelligence never failed to make you clench your thighs. Flirtatious comments passed as just comments about the cases.
“I’m down,” You said, smiling at Emily.
And that’s how Spencer knew he was spending his night with you.
If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
The bar atmosphere was loud and chaotic with crappy pop music playing over the speakers and drunk people watching the latest baseball game on the television. It wreaked of alcohol, as bars usually do, and sweat with the random people that were dancing to the shitty music drunkenly. Penelope had pulled Luke to the dance floor, dancing stupidly to “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga with JJ following behind. Rossi was playing pool with Matt while Tara and Emily played Darts. Which left you all alone with Spencer in a booth that was in a quiet corner of the bar.
You were sipping some fruity cocktail that Penelope had made you order, exclaiming that it would taste delicious. She was right, of course, but you weren’t going to allow her the satisfaction of knowing that. Spencer had a beer in front of him though it was untouched. He didn’t like to drink much.
“I’m surprised you came out with us,” You said, putting your glass down as you glanced at Spencer. There was an unspoken tension between the two of you. One that told you that you were certainly going home with him tonight. You always do.
Spencer shrugged his shoulders, finally picking up the beer. He slowly brought the glass up to his lips, taking a small sip before grimacing. “Oh, that tastes so bad,” he cringed, putting the glass back down. He licked his lips, still grimacing.
“Now why did you order a beer when you literally hate them?” You asked, laughing as you took another sip of your drink.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Because Luke told me this brand tastes good and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt,” He sighed, pushing the glass away.
“Luke also doesn’t have taste when it comes to alcoholic beverages so I’m not entirely sure why you trusted him this time,” You giggled. You held your glass out for Spencer to try. “Here, try this. It tastes much better.”
Spencer looked at the glass in your hands as you held it up to Spencer’s face. He hesitated momentarily before putting his lips on your straw and taking a tentative sip of the cocktail. “That is pretty good,” he said after swallowing, nodding. “Did you know that the Daiquiri is one of the first iconic fruity cocktails as we know them today? It was invented around 1898. But it could be theorized that there were earlier versions of these cocktails.” Spencer rambled, using his hands as he spoke.
You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you watched Spencer with interest. The way his voice sounded and how his face, which had become hardened from the trauma of prison, relaxed and looked more like himself again, and how excited he got talking about these facts, it never failed to make you swell with both lust and admiration for the genius.
As Spencer went on about alcohol, you ordered him the same drink as yourself. And the two of you enjoyed a nice conversation while drinking. It was always so easy with him, talking about anything and everything under the sun.
You both were on your third drink when you began feeling more flirty. While you guys were away on the case, you and Spencer hadn’t had any time to spend together in your hotel rooms. So of course, you were craving him. You were always craving Spencer.
I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted
And when I sleep, I’m gonna dream of how you tasted
You put your hand on Spencer’s thigh as he rambled to you about the different types of alcohol and where they derived from. It was an action that Spencer certainly didn’t miss but he didn’t question it either as he continued his sentence. Your hand stayed there for a few moments before slowly moving upward, inching towards his cock. And when you began palming him through his trousers, Spencer stopped speaking entirely, looking at you. “What are you doing?” He hissed out, unable to help the way his cock was immediately hardening under your light touch.
“Relax,” you murmured before looking around, ensuring no one was near you guys. And luckily, no one was. You moved your hand to Spencer’s zipper, unzipping it enough to slip your hand to palm him through his briefs. “No one is paying attention to us,” you said while smirking at Spencer.
Spencer sighed, looking around before looking at you. He should’ve known you were going to pull something like this with the way you’ve been looking at him all night. And in his tipsy and horny mind, he just sits back in the booth, allowing you to work your magic.
You slid your hand under his briefs, grabbing Spencer’s cock. You were careful not to pull it out, wanting to ensure that you could quickly pull away just in case. You began stroking him slowly.
Spencer tried his best to keep his face neutral and to not let any noises escape, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you. But it was hard when your hand always felt so much better wrapped around his cock than his own. He glanced around at the busy bar, grateful that everyone was so caught up in their own thing to notice he had your hand in his pants. “This is so risky,” he said shakily, swallowing as he looked at you.
You hummed in acknowledgment, nodding your head. You were close to him but to the people around it would look as though you were just flirting with one another. Underneath the table, however, was a completely different story. “And yet, you love it,” You giggled, moving your pace a bit faster as your thumb swiped Spencer’s tip.
Spencer gasped as he tried not to buck his hips into your hand. He bit his lip, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he opened them again. “You’re such a menace,” He rasped out, trying to appear as though he had his composure.
“I know,” You beamed, still moving your hand underneath the table. You leaned in to whisper into Spencer’s ear. “Just imagine what you can do to me tonight,” You whispered. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to my body.”
Spencer let out a shaky breath, looking at you with a heated expression. It didn’t take long until he felt himself getting close, the way your hand was moving and your thumb swiping the tip, the thrill of the fact that this was happening in public, and the alcohol messing with his breath certainly added to the feeling. And you could tell Spencer was close with the way his cock stiffened in your hand.
“Atta boy,” You whispered into his ear. “You like this so much,” You cooed, keeping up the appearance that this was nothing more than a flirtatious interaction.
And that was all it took before Spencer was biting his lip so hard that he swore he drew blood as he came in his briefs, coating your hand and the fabric with his cum. You stroked him through his orgasm before removing your hand. You grabbed a napkin off of the table and wiped your hand, pulling away from Spencer in the process.
“Well that was certainly fun,” You exclaimed before taking another sip of your drink.
Spencer looked at you with a dazed expression for a few seconds before clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “I suppose,” He said hoarsely before reaching for his own drink and sipping it.
The last time Spencer had gotten a handjob in public was when he met up with Ethan after school one day and they gave each other handjobs behind the bleachers at the football field. It was like his only sexual experience for the longest time.
Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes
Tingle running through my bones
The boys and the girls are in
I mess around with them
And I'm okay with it
You and Spencer had two more drinks before he whispered into your ear. “Let’s get out of here,” his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You were both thoroughly buzzed, making the situation even hotter.
You nodded your head, giggling at Spencer as your cheeks were warm from the heat of the alcohol. He was the same way, a smirk lying on his lips as he looked at you with reddened cheeks. He had taken off his sweater, holding it in his arms. Without bothering to say goodnight to the rest of the team, you and Spencer left the bar, stumbling as you guys were laughing and hanging onto one another. Nothing was particularly funny but you were both intoxicated which was a rarity for the two of you and of course, you were going to relish it.
You and Spencer managed to call down a cab, getting into the back of it as Spencer told the driver the address. The two of you were sitting next to one another in the back of the cab pretty close, whispering and giggling. Spencer draped the sweater over your lap, a seemingly innocent gesture if it weren’t for what he whispered into your ear. “You know, two can play at this game,” He whispered.
“What game?” You whispered back, glancing at the taxi driver, who was paying no mind to you, before looking back at Spencer.
He simply raised his eyebrows at you, that familiar smirk on his lips that he’s held for the past hour or so. “You think you can just do what you did to me in the bar without any repercussions, sweetheart?” He asked as he put his hand underneath the sweater on your lap, his fingers moved underneath your skirt to rest on your thigh.
Your eyes widened with realization as his hands touched your skin. You couldn’t deny your arousal at the idea, knowing that when you mess with Spencer, he will mess with you back. The only thing separating you and the taxi driver was a partition between the seats that was opened just a crack. “H-here?” You stuttered quietly, suddenly losing the confidence that you had earlier in the night.
Spencer nodded his head, looking at you with a teasing but also heated expression. His fingers inched up your thigh, causing you to instinctively open your legs as you looked at Spencer. Your lips were parted and your cheeks flushed from the heat. You knew you guys shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t have even given Spencer a handjob in the middle of a bar. Perhaps it was the alcohol, the buzz making your brain fuzzy. Or perhaps it was just because of Spencer. You two always drove one another crazy.
Who cared about logic and reason when the sex was always so intense and amazing?
The two of you were quiet, not wanting to alert the taxi driver as Spencer kept your legs covered with his sweater. He moved his fingers to your pussy, feeling how wet you were through your underwear, making you bite your lip. He simply leaned in to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear. “You’re practically soaking,” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
You nodded your head, not trusting yourself to whisper back. Spencer kept himself close to you, inching his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side. He used his pointer finger to touch your slit, spreading around the wetness. The feeling caused you to audibly gasp, making your eyes widen.
The taxi driver heard the gasp and looked at the two of you through the rearview mirror. “Is everything alright?” He asked, voice gruff.
Spencer spoke for the two of you, coming up with a lie that could satisfy the driver. “She had too much to drink so she’s feeling a bit queasy,” He said smoothly.
“Please don’t throw up in my cab,” The driver responded before looking back at the road.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Spencer reassured before looking back at you. His finger dipped between your folds and into your hole with much ease, causing you to bite your lip even harder. You tried not to make any other noises, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. Spencer watched the way you reacted, the way your body tensed at his touch. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you, trying not to go too fast as he didn’t want the sound of your slick to alert the taxi driver.
You were trying your hardest not to make any noise. It was always hard though. Spencer’s fingers were so long and always knew how to hit the right places even if he wasn’t trying. He knew how to finger you into a whining mess and with your intoxicated brain, it was even harder to control yourself.
Spencer added a second finger, keeping that slow but pleasurable rhythm. You were indeed soaking as Spencer had mentioned earlier. Your breathing was shaky as you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s wrist to hold onto something. You moved yourself a bit to rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder. The sudden curl of Spencer’s fingers, hitting your g-spot dead on, made you let out the tiniest of whimpers, muffled by his shirt, luckily enough.
And just as you felt that heat building inside of you, the taxi came to a stop right outside Spencer’s building, causing Spencer to pull away from you. “Thank you,” he said to the driver, grabbing a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket with his clean hand and handing it to the man before you both exited the car.
And as the taxi driver scurried off, Spencer looked around and then at you, that same smirk from earlier on his lips. “I didn’t get to see you fall apart, how sad,” he said with a mock pout on his lips. He brought the fingers still coated with your juices to your lips, an unspoken demand for you to suck.
You, being the wonderful person you were, obeyed without any hesitation, wrapping your lips around the digits and lapping your tongue as you tasted yourself. You looked at Spencer with doe eyes, appearing to be all innocent when you were anything but.
I’m here to take my medicine, take my medicine
Rest it on my fingertips
And up to your mouth, I’m feelin it out
I’m feelin it now
You felt like a whore, standing in the middle of the street with Spencer’s fingers in your mouth. Part of you was grateful that it was an ungodly hour and most normal people were asleep, meaning no one was in the street. Spencer watched as you sucked on his fingers. You were truly a sight to behold.
“Naughty girl,” he murmured, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek softly. To say he was addicted to you would be an understatement. Since that first day, the two of you slept together, he was hooked. Hell, he was hooked even before then. The countless nights he spent jerking himself off as he thought about fucking you would be embarrassing if you were to ever find out.
And now that Spencer has had you? He’s never letting go.
The two of you stumbled into the apartment building, holding onto one another. On the elevator, after pressing the buttons, Spencer began attacking your lips with his, kissing you so messily and hungrily, with both hands on your cheeks. It was the first kiss of the night, one that held all the pent-up emotions the two of you had been feeling. You kissed Spencer with the same veracity, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. Spencer gently nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to part them as he used his tongue to explore your mouth.
The two of you moved in sync, making out with one another. You could taste the alcohol that coated Spencer’s mouth just as he could taste it on you as well, the tastes blending. Spencer’s hands left your cheeks, moving down to your hips to pull you closer to him. You could feel his bulge pressing into you, causing you to clench your thighs. You two were lost in one another, dizzy from the alcohol and the endorphins being released.
If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh
La-la-da-da, da
We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh
La-la-da-da, da
The elevator dinging brought you both back to reality as Spencer pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. The look in his eyes showed need and want, your expression mirroring his as you looked back at him. Smiles crept onto your faces as you looked at one another. And when the elevator doors opened, Spencer simply grabbed your hand, the two of you stumbling and giggling as you made your way to his apartment down the hall.
Upon reaching his apartment door, Spence let go of your hand to grab his keys from his pocket, fumbling around with them until he grabbed the right one and put it into the keyhole. He opened the door, allowing you to step in first and Spencer followed suit. He closed the door behind himself, placing his keys in the bowl next to his door.
You placed your bag down along with the sweater of Spencer’s that you were still holding before turning towards him. And without giving him any chance to make the first move, you kissed him roughly, wanting to just consume him and be consumed by him. Spencer laughed against your lips, slightly taken aback by your actions but it certainly wasn’t unwelcomed. He kissed you just as roughly, his hands going to your hips once more.
Spencer took control of the kiss, his lips dominating yours as he gained control. As the two of you moved in sync, Spencer began gently pushing you around the apartment. However, he underestimated his coordination when he accidentally made you bump into his bookshelf, causing a few books to fall and for you to pull away. “Whoops,” you shrugged before kissing Spencer again.
The walk to the bedroom was an adventurous one, to say the least. The two of you had bumped into the table, the couch, and a vase fell onto the floor that Spencer will have to worry about in his hungover state in the morning. And when you eventually got into the bedroom, well, Spencer was more a bit grateful as he knew nothing would be in the way from the door to the bed.
As soon as you entered the bedroom, Spencer moved his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from the kiss to take it off of you, throwing the material somewhere in the room. Underneath your shirt, you were wearing a sage green lace bra that Spencer adored on you so much. “You’re so beautiful,” Spencer spoke huskily, licking his lips. “You know how much I adore this on you.”
“I figured I’d likely end up at yours tonight somehow,” You smiled smugly at Spencer’s reaction.
Spencer hummed in acknowledgment before reaching to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttoning them. He tosses the shirt somewhere around the room before moving his attention back to you. He leaned in to kiss your jawline, making his way down your neck as his fingers messed with the zipper of your skirt. He fumbled with the zipper for a moment as he licked your pulse point, nipping at it slightly, and causing you to gasp. He undid the zipper, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor.
You tilted your head to the side, giving Spencer more access to your neck as he kissed, nipped, and sucked, leaving marks along your skin. Your breathing was uneven with how turned on you were. You reached down to Spencer’s pants, palming his cock through the material and causing him to groan against your skin. He pulled away from your neck, grabbing your hand. “None of that,” he gently reprimanded. “Go sit on the bed for me.”
You frowned for just a moment but obliged, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress. Spencer followed you, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you and that’s how you knew you were in for an exquisite treat. Although, this was a treat that you indulged in very, very frequently.
Spencer didn’t speak as his fingers moved to the waistband of your panties, pulling them off of you and putting them into his pant pocket. You quirked an eyebrow at Spencer who, in return, gave you a cheeky grin. He placed his hands on your knees, spreading your legs for you to show your glistening cunt. His mouth instantly watered at the sight in front of him. “Fuck, you’re so incredibly wet,” He groaned, licking his lips with anticipation.
“Been wet all night,” You breathed out, watching Spencer with a heated expression in your eyes. “Need it so bad, Spence.”
“I know, baby, you’re going to get it, don’t worry,” was all Spencer said before he dived right in, licking a stripe against your cunt.
You moaned, lying your back on the mattress as Spencer worked his magic against your cunt. His tongue began running laps, taking in all of your juices. When you and Spencer first began this sort of friends with benefits situation, you didn’t know just how much Spencer loved eating your cunt. You figured he did it simply to make you feel good. But then, afterwards, when you saw that blissful and dazed look in his eyes, you knew he loved it just as much as you did, thrived on it even. If Spencer could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, you were sure he would die a happy man.
Spencer moved his arms to wrap around your thighs, pulling your cunt closer to his face. He began to practically make out with it, his lips playing with your clit and sucking on it. When Spencer ate pussy, he ATE pussy. The usual calm and collected man would eat you out like he had never had a proper meal in his life, making sure to bask in your juices. He was messy with it in the best possible way.
You reached your hand to intertwine your fingers into his brown curls, tugging at his hair as you moaned loudly. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, your other hand going to your chest and massaging the flesh. “Feels so good,” you whined.
Spencer moaned, sending vibrations against your pussy and causing you to jolt from the pleasure. His tongue dipped into your hole as his nose rubbed against your clit. He shook his head, burying it deeper into your cunt. You felt that familiar heat building inside of you, the one you had begun to feel earlier in the taxi but it had been ripped away from you so quickly. This time, however, it wasn’t going to be ripped away from you.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned, moving your hips against Spencer’s face. “So close, please don’t stop!”
And he didn’t. Spencer continued to eat you out, slurping, sucking, licking your cunt. Part of him wished he was underneath you, letting you use his face until you were satisfied, covering him in your juices. But this was great too as he got to control just how much of your pussy he got to breathe in. Spencer sucked your clit, sending you over the edge as you arched your back and clamped your thighs shut, squeezing Spencer’s face in the process as you moaned his name in that sexy way that never failed to make his cock throb. God, he needed to fuck you.
When you relaxed, breathing heavily as you opened your eyes to look at Spencer, he pulled away, licking his lips in the process. His face was absolutely glistening with your juices and his eyes were blown out. He was the embodiment of pussy drunk.
I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted
Spencer stood up, wiping his chin with his hand before moving to unzip his pants. His movements were rushed as he fumbled around to get them off. “Need you so bad,” he said, kicking his pants to the side before taking his cum-stained briefs off. His cock sprung out of the briefs, making him let out a small groan of relief. It was so red, angry from the lack of attention. Which is funny because he literally came just a few hours ago.
You looked at Spencer, biting your lip as you looked at his cock. Eight inches and not too girthy but he knew exactly how to use it. He always made you feel so good with his cock. Your pussy throbbed at the thought, ready to get railed by Spencer. It’s all you’ve been wanting the past few days.
You didn’t say anything as Spencer grabbed your legs, pulling you closer to him. He rested your legs on his shoulders before grabbing his cock, guiding it to your entrance. He didn’t bother to tease himself like he usually did by rubbing his cock up and down your cunt. The two of you were still woozy from the alcohol, that and the hormones, it was going to be quite a ride.
Spencer looked down at you, taking in your beauty as you looked up at him. It was a moment of softness between the two of you as you just gazed at one another. A tenderness that was rare. And just as quick as it had come, it was just as quickly removed as Spencer slammed his cock inside of you without warning, causing you to let out a loud gasp. He didn’t stop until he was fully in, only then did he allow you time to adjust.
It took you a few minutes to adjust to Spencer. He wasn’t always rough with you but you knew tonight that you both needed it. And after the pain subsided, you began squirming, unable to help yourself. You were needy and just wanted Spencer to fuck you.
“Why are you already squirming?” Spencer asked as he raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk on his lips. “Haven’t even started,” he said as he held onto your legs.
You let out a small whine. “Want you to move,” you said, a small pout gracing your lips.
Spencer hummed in acknowledgement. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else when he pulled his hips back and then slammed back into you, pressing his cock deep inside of you.
You let out a choked moan, instantly gripping the sheets below you. Spencer moved his hips like that a few more times, his pace tantalizingly slow, before gradually picking up the pace. “S-so good,” you whimpered.
Spencer was never one to shy away from making noises. He moaned as his cock moved inside of you, feeling your walls around him. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he slammed his hips into you.
The sounds that escaped you sounded pornographic as Spencer moved inside of you. His cock was hitting your g-spot dead on. His thrusts were hard and rhythmic, exactly how you loved it. Spencer moved your legs, bending them towards your chest and holding them there as he thrusted into you more deeply. The change of angle makes your moans more high-pitched.
The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin as Spencer’s bed creaked from the roughness of his thrusts. The slick of your cunt was also heard as Spencer’s cock drilled into you. He began to pick up the pace. “You feel so good, baby, oh my god,” Spencer moaned, looking down at you.
You were truly a sight to behold. Your tits bounced with every thrust, your hair sprawled out on the mattress, your face was contorted with pleasure. Your whines and moans were truly like music to his ears. Spencer knew he wouldn’t last long at all, especially with the way your cunt was gripping his cock. He reached down, using his fingers to rub your clit.
“I-oh fuck!” You whimpered, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Spencer!”
“That’s it, princess,” Spencer let out a whine of own, relishing in the pleasure. “Gonna cum for me?”
You nodded your head pathetically as you looked up at the handsome genius. His curls were sticking to his forehead as he pounded into you. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your clit was enough to have you feeling close again. “So close, Spence,” you moaned.
“Me too, baby, me too.” Spencer breathed out.
With a few more thrusts and rubs of your clit, you were moaning Spencer’s name so loudly as your back arched and head was thrown back, your cunt clamping around Spencer’s cock. That was all it took for Spencer to bury himself deep inside of you, cumming with a loud moan as he filled you with his seed.
And when you both were finished, Spencer pulled out before lying down on the bed next to you and taking you into his arms. You were both dazed and dizzy from all the different feelings. You both were also breathing heavily, coming down from the intense sensations. You snuggled into Spencer, unable to help the tiny giggle that escaped your lips which Spencer also returned.
When Spencer awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache, he was ready to just get up and take a bunch of acetaminophen to make it go away. But the feeling of having you in his arms made the thought dissipate when he could just spend the day sleeping next to you instead. Because you were the only medicine he really needed.
If you go out tonight, I’m going out tonight ‘cause I know you’re persuasive
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#criminals minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds reactions#spencer criminal minds
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[ 奇麗 ] GIRLS JUST WANNA DANCE
— 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖽𝖺𝗒; 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌.
&&엔하이픈 ✦ bf! enhypen x 𝑓. reader ─── est. relationships fluff ♡ l’avis . . . kissing wc1000
✉️ 注記 — oh my, active mick ?? >< this one’s for @bywonyo aka my princessss (ilysm ai)
the masterlist reblogs & likes are appreciated !!
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LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes off you the whole night. i mean, how could he, when you were wearing that purple dress that he picked out for you? the music set list was on fire; charlie xcx, olivia rodrigo, troye sivan, kendrick lamar — it was the setlist. and who made it? heeseung.
PARK JONGSEONG
the drink in his hand had lost his attention, all of it now on you. the way you were laughing with your friends, the way you did your hair that night; it was almost about to break his self control.
he so badly wanted to kiss you senseless in front of everyone here, show them that this is what they missed out on, but he knew you’d give him the silent treatment after (from past experiences.)
SIM JAEYUN
your eyeshadow was glimmering under the disco ball placed on your ceiling fan, a light sheen of sweat coating your face from the singing and dancing with your friends.
you walked over to him, who was sat on the counter, and picked up a tissue, dabbing your skin with it. and for some reason, it looked kinda… hot to him. well, he thought you were hot in general, so that’s a different matter in its own.
PARK SUNGHOON
his eyes were only for you as you stepped up and picked up the mic, pink ‘birthday princess’ sash shining in the iridescent light of the disco ball.
“thank you for coming tonight, everyone! we have the dinner buffet out now, so let’s all go eat some good food!”
he smiled as he heard your voice, waiting near to take your hand and bring you with him to eat.
KIM SUNOO
his smile was irreplaceable as he watched you and your best friends take selfies together, your birthday tiara placed elegantly on your head. your lips were put in a selfie pout, and so he wanted to just pull you away and never let you go.
he didn’t even notice he was staring until heeseung came over and gave him a little nudge. “man, you’re really down bad, aren’t you?”
YANG JUNGWON
jungwon’s fingers drummed against the counter, the song — your favourite song — playing in the background enveloping his ears. a small smile tugged at his lips, and it got even wider and he saw you walk towards him.
“hey won, is my lip gloss okay?” you asked, and he was so grateful for the excuse to stare at your lips. he nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin, before pulling you closer and kissing your cheek. you tried to look annoyed, but the smile on your face was a huge giveaway.
NISHIMURA RIKI
he was busy staring at you(r lips), until he got an idea.
he got off the barstool, making his way over to where you and your friends were dancing. his fingers wrapped around your wrist, making you turn around in confusion.
“may i have this dance, princess?”
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PERMANENT TAGLIST —
𐔌 ﹒ @liya07v @strvvy-anniee @flufflights @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @nerdywitchcrown @sol3chu @puma-riki @xeee334 @suhiiiies-blog @haerinheartss @layzfy @manaah02 @ijustwannareadstuff20
( bold — could not be tagged )
#( 𝑚a ) 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐢𝐄 . a work of 𝑎𝑟𝑡#enhypen#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#sunoo#jungwon#niki#lee heeseung#park jongseong#jongseong park#sunghoon park#jake sim#sim jaeyun#sim jaeyun x reader#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#jungwon yang#enhypen yang jungwon#nishimura riki x reader#nishimura riki#niki nishimura#riki nishimura x reader#enha#enhypen x fem rea#chrrygirls
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Blue and Violet
We (should) all know about how when MK and the others broke the Colour Stones in season 5, a whole bunch of people ended up getting super powers when they came into contact with the broken pieces?
Can't imagine that everybody would be happy about this new world order though. I mean-
And here's the real kicker:
Don't worry, the ball is well ventilated and has holes. Hershey will not suffocate to death.
#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid fanart#monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#lmk#lmk fanart#lmk mayor#monkie kid mayor#lmk macaque#monkie kid macaque#shadowpuppet#lmk shadowpuppet#lmk oc#Hershey has become cloud- I mean we did see a dog that could hover and fly in the last ep of season 5 so this is very much possible#I'll probably make a part two (or even three) about how these stones affect Mayor and Macaque#blue and violet#reason I didn't give Xiuying the yellow stone even though yellow is her colour is soley because I wanted to make the joke that she can-#-now light up her own cigarettes-#Also didn't give Aigou the red stone because I thought it would be funnier if his stress was finally (involuntarily) expressed through-#-excessive sweating because this poor man actually needs a vacation- he should have gone on vacation with Xiuying
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wildfire (cs) | fourteen.
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—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 5.5k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, mostly focused on namjoon again in his stressed with no rest era, oc tells her friends about everything, jiung x oc fighting, crying :(, oc has a pretty good talk with namjoon, things are just shifting/changing
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—a/n: the next fic coming up after wildfire has been posted here! also if you haven't taken my poll, pls do so! hehe <33 i appreciate u
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You lay back against the arm of the couch with your blanket sprawled on top, typing away the last bits of info into your presentation. You're a slide away from creating your acknowledgements slide and wrapping up the entire rotation update. You had gotten an email from both San and Namjoon stating that your rotation in San's lab was ending due to a change in your timeline and that you needed to present your rotation update to the both of them, along with the dean, in the following week. It scared you at first— and it still does now— but it's starting to make more sense as to why San did what he did. Namjoon sent you a side email asking if you could meet today because he wanted to discuss what was going on. He kept it vague. Short.
Maybe he was holding off until the meeting.
It's obvious who started all of this. It's not hard to tell.
But, you agreed to meet after TAing for Yunho— letting Namjoon know you'd be there as soon as class was over. He agreed to the time and sent you a reassuring message towards the end, telling you all would be well and that he'd help you figure things out no matter what.
It was reassuring, but it doesn't mean you weren't scared.
Anxious.
Nervous.
Doesn't mean any if this it hurt any less. Doesn't mean you weren't angry, upset, sad. You still needed to feel it out, especially being alone and going through this without anyone else to talk to about it.
You had Eunchae, Jurin and Felix. But, you wished you had Jiung to talk to. You wished you didn't feel hurt about him, too.
—FLASHBACK
"So, you two are seeing each other?" Jurin asks while she sits in front of you and holds onto your knee to give it a gentle rub. Eunchae sits next to you with her arm over your shoulder, also giving you a gentle caress, squeeze. Felix sits next to Jurin and he's got a look of concern, but sadness. You had finally opened up about everything between you and San; from how things started, the conferences, staying at his house, being with him—
To not.
Jiung keeps himself posted near your window because he doesn't really wanna hear more about it but he needs to— to understand the full story. Part of him also feels guilty for what he did hearing your cries and how awfully torn up you are over Professor Choi.
San.
He's gotta get used to you calling him San like that.
"Were." You shake your head and press the tissue against your nose to pat it dry. "It's done with now."
"But, why? Couldn't you guys just play it off?"
"I'm sure he wanted to be safe, though." Felix adds softly. "I think I kinda see where he's coming from." He looks at you. "I don't think he meant to hurt you, but he's probably trying to protect you and keep everything safe in the meantime. Once this blows over—"
"I doubt we'd get back together."
"Don't say that. You never know, Y/N. I agree with Lix. He's probably just trying to do what's best for now even if it hurts him to. I'm sure he cares a lot about you. I mean heck, he almost fucked up Hae-jin in front of everyone." You sigh and look down at your hands, the feeling of sadness and emptiness all consuming.
"He does." Eunchae adds to Jurin's reassurance. "I don't know why Professor Lee and Professor Jeong think it's their business, though. Haven't they done enough damage?"
"Awful. People literally can't mind their business, especially when it has nothing to do with them."
"I get the power dynamics but Professor Choi doesn't seem like the type. So, honestly, it's not like anyone was getting hurt in the process." Jiung silently fiddles with his hoodie string as Felix goes on.
"And people clearly don't know you if they assume you're the one throwing yourself on him." Jurin adds.
"Damn. Two people can't just be together?" Felix shakes his head. "Anyway, you got us, and this will pass. I'm sure Professor Kim will do everything to help and figure things out, too." You dig your face into your hands, trying to wipe away the remaining tears before you nod and smile at Lix in appreciation for his support, too.
Still, you can't help but notice how Jiung has remained quiet this entire time— barely able to maintain eye contact with you.
"Should we go to dinner? Get some food in you?" Eunchae gives you a small smile and giggle. You nod and stand with them, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror while the three start making their way out of your door.
"Can we talk for a second?"
"About?"
"I just have to tell you something. Probably shouldn't wait until after dinner."
"Um, okay?" You look at him, hands crossed over your chest in a vulnerable manner, doe-eyes peeking up at him as he lets out a hefty sigh. "What's on your mind?"
"Y/N, I'm sorry. I just wanna say I'm sorry and I hope you understand where I'm coming from. But—" He lets out another sigh before shaking his head, almost as if he were shaking his feelings off. Trying to tell himself he needs to say it. "I-I went to Professor Kim and told him about you and Professor Choi. I told him I thought you were being taken advantage of and that I was worried."
"What?" You can barely get out. "W-why would you do that?"
"I was really just worried and I wasn't sure how else to get to you. I-I thought Professor Kim would be able to help—"
"Jiung." You call his name and step back, not wanting to be in close proximity to him. You knew he was worried about you, but you didn't think he'd go off and talk to Namjoon about it right away. "Why would you do that? Why couldn't we just keep talking about it— why did you have to go and blow this up even more?!"
"I'm sorry, can you blame me?!—"
"You didn't have to go behind my fucking back and tell Professor Kim! I already told you it wasn't like that and you still told him it was?! What the actual hell, Jiung?"
"I was just worried about you! I was being your fucking bestfriend, trying to make sure you weren't hurt or anything."
"And then you made things worse. Are you happy?" You scoff. "Those assumptions could have really fucked up Professor Choi."
"What about you, Y/N? Why do you keep disregarding yourself?! Is that even healthy—"
"Healthy?! I'm telling you the truth!" You scoff. "And you don't know shit about me and him, so quit acting like you do." You throw your hands up in defeat because he'll never get it. "Forget it, okay? You'll never understand and I don't need you to."
"Hey, what's going on?" Felix pops his head in, confused at the ruckus going on behind doors. Truthfully, he heard everything just as he was approaching the door to check up on you, and he's not sure how to feel. It's hard. He feels like he's in the middle because he sees Jiung, he sees you.
"You guys can go off to dinner together, but I'll probably just stay behind."
"But, Y/N—" Jiung adds in defeat.
"Why don't you and the girls go? We'll catch up later." Felix tugs him by the sleeve and gives him a look. "Give her some space." He mutters lowly just as he gets in close distance.
—END
Your alarm blares on the coffee table, a harsh reminder that you haven't really slept much. It was time to wrap up and get ready for Yunho's class— something you weren't entirely ready to tackle today either.
But, you get up anyway.
You sigh and put on your brave face.
You throw on a simple sweater, jeans and your Sambas— dabbing a bit of mascara, brow gel and lip gloss to fix yourself up a tiny bit for the day. You were tired of feeling sad and dressing the part; the least you could do was finally get some fresh air and look decent enough for the world while coming out of your slump. You grab your things and pack up your bag, heading out of the door with your keys in hand.
Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San's lab.
Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San.
You let out a sigh and quietly walk over to the classroom in peace, keeping your head down for a majority of the time.
Avoiding eye contact, avoiding anything having to do with the outside world in meantime.
"Hey!" Yunho says in his usual fashion. You give him a small smile, although you're not really sure why he's joining class yet again today. He had been joining your class in particular recently, and you knew why.
He just wanted to get under your skin.
"Hi." You respond, getting your laptop together. Yunho continues to watch you from where you're standing, noting the sadness that envelopes your entire body. The way you're avoiding him. The way it's so blatantly obvious that you know that he knows.
That Iseul is the reason why you're sad.
You don't say anything otherwise; keeping your head down and away from Yunho even while the class walks in. You continue to carry on with the last journal club of the class before giving everyone time to work on their final proposals before it's due at the end of the evening. A few people linger at the end of class to speak with you and Yunho to get your guidance on the last remaining bits of their proposals before they thank you for all your help and head out for the day.
You still haven't said a word to Yunho, and he can't help but ask:
"Is something wrong?" Yunho asks nonchalantly after class, looking at your figure even though you are avoiding eye contact with him while packing up your things.
"No."
"You don't have to lie to me."
"I don't know why you're asking if something is wrong when you know what it is already. Don't you?" You look at him plainly from the side before gathering the rest of your things.
"Whatever's been happening between you and San is between you and San—"
"So, was it you who told Professor Kim? Or was it Professor Lee?" You cut him off. Yunho stares at you, and he doesn't respond. Of course he won't, of course he won't throw Iseul under the bus even though you know she was behind it.
"It was for the best."
"Quite frankly, I don't think you can speak on what's best for me or him. Especially him." You look at Yunho directly in the eye. "Are you both that determined to bring San down? Is that what this?" He furrows his brows.
"Reel it in, Y/N." He says, sternly. "Do you not understand how damaging this could be for both you and him? If anything, it was done to protect you both."
"What makes you think we weren't capable of doing so?" Yunho lets out a pathetic chuckle before he steps forward and leans towards your ear, a small smirk on his lips.
"I think snuggling up on campus and sneaking into his office is enough of a reason." He pulls back, licking his lips before dipping his hands into his pocket.
"And I think you need to learn how to mind your own business and let San handle his own." You scoff. "In any case, Yunho." You look him in the eye. "You and Iseul already ruined him from the beginning and you can't come to terms with it." You tilt your head to the side. "You both were never deserving of San, and that is sad. No wonder you two are miserable and are still keeping tabs on him." Yunho's mouth slightly drops, but he doesn't respond to your statement. "I'll help out with finals if needed. Otherwise, please consider my TA assignment with you done."
You almost run into Iseul as you stomp out of the classroom, leaving her to knit her brows at you in response.
"Nice talk." Iseul pops in, her husband biting his cheek.
"We should have never gotten involved with that, Iseul." He says lowly as he gathers his things together.
"Oh, so just let them—"
"That's exactly it, just let them be." He cuts her off and looks at her. "It didn't have to be us. We could've just let them be and let anyone else do the talking. Let them learn on their own." His jaw ticks.
"We did the right thing." She crosses her arms.
"Still doesn't change the fact that you're taking the opportunity to destroy San and running with it. It didn't have to be us." He repeats, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.
"Yunho." She says. "You're not actually taking Y/N seriously, are you? She's delusional if she thinks all of this is okay and would've slipped."
"Don't call her delusional, Iseul. You have no say in their relationship or what they're about. You had no right. They knew what they were getting into. You just lead them into the trap for your own benefit." Yunho scoffs. "You wanted to see this unfold, didn't you? You wanted this to unfold in a specific way."
"What is going on, Yunho?"
"We're not meddling in this anymore. If you're not ready to stop, count me out of it. I'm not doing this, I'm not picking at their business anymore." He grabs his things and takes the lead out of the room. Iseul scoffs and shakes her head, slowly trailing behind him.
As for you, you feel cold. You feel isolated. You feel empty. You walk out and find a hidden table behind the building and set yourself down to get yourself together. You let out a couple of breaths to ease your feelings, promising yourself you wouldn't cry over this anymore.
But, it hurts to hold it in.
It hurts.
You feel the dullness, the heavy ache, in the center of your chest, and it hurts.
You have to move on.
"Fuck." You sigh, hand over your chest to give it a few gentle rubs before you're back on your feet and checking the time. You need to see Professor Kim just like your promised.
Of course, as you're on your way to Professor Kim's office, you find San passing by with Yeosang and Jongho. His eyes land on you and you immediately break first, feeling the tears ready to well up in your eyes. He sees the way your head drops and how you turn away— he can't help but slightly turn over his shoulder to keep his eyes on you.
To lock eyes with you once more.
To feel.
But, it doesn't happen. And it fucks San up more than he expects because he doesn't know even know what Jongho and Yeosang are talking about anymore after that brief interception.
"Yo, you good?" Jongho taps his chest with a small chuckle, bringing San back to reality.
"Yeah. Sorry." He tries to play it off quickly but Jongho quickly turns over his shoulder to see you walking in the opposite direction.
"All good." He returns to San and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about." San gives him a toothless smile. "Anyway, did you guys figure out where we're going before we make laps around campus?" Yeosang and Jongho share a quick look before they follow behind San and pick the conversation back up to prevent any of San's sadness from creeping up.
Meanwhile, you continue your way to Professor Kim's office, wiping away the stragglers that manage to escape your eyes and streak your cheeks. You weren't gonna let this get to you, so you quickly try to brush it off and get yourself together especially when you walk down the hallway and into Professor Kim's office. He's in his chair, typing away on his computer— glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.
"Hey Y/N, come sit and make yourself comfortable." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, sitting down on the chair posted in front of his desk.
"Thanks for meeting with me today, Professor Kim."
"No, thank you." He chuckles and finally shifts his full attention towards you. "How are you today?"
"Uh, could be better but not complaining."
"Yeah? How was class with Professor Jeong?"
"Hm, okay." You hum before shifting in your seat nervously.
"Just okay?" You nod. "Well, as long as there aren't any complaints or anything you wanna tell me." Namjoon knows you probably aren't having a great time in Yunho's class right now and he doesn't blame you.
"No." You force a smile. "Anyway, I see that I have to do my rotation presentation next week?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Y/N. You do understand why this is all happening, right?" You slowly nod. "I know you and San have been seeing each other, and I know he ended things the other day. I'm really sorry, but I just need to protect you both. Word is getting around fast and the dean isn't having it. I can't have him fire San, I can't have him kick you out of the grad program. Please just understand why things have to be this way. I just need it to settle."
"I do." You respond weakly before looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Professor Kim. I didn't mean— we didn't mean for this to blow up. I-I know we shouldn't have been so sloppy and reckless, and I'm sorry—"
"Hey, hey." He shakes his head with a sympathetic look. "No need to be sorry. I promise all is fine, and that's why I'm here to help and protect you both." You look at him with a sad nod, and you aren't sure why that's the tipping point for you but you suddenly start to break down in front of Professor Kim. He feels his heart breaks because he knows there wasn't any power play in this; he knows San as a person, and he's familiar with you as a student and the work you do. There was no way either of you used any power or position for your advantage. He knew this had been a genuine, real relationship— it's just truly unfortunate it had to unfold this way.
If word hadn't gotten around, maybe Namjoon wouldn't care at all.
But, he has to now, and that's what makes everything hard about his role.
"I promise everything is going to be okay." He says softly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Namjoon shakes his heas, watching the way you cry into your hands.
"Y/N, it's okay. You can let it out if you need to." He passes you the tissue box. "Can I ask you something? And be honest. I've already figured out your plan for school so you don't have to hold back." Namjoon says. "Do you care about him?" You nod as you continue to cry, the ache in your chest making it hard for you to breathe.
You miss San.
"But, it doesn't matter because he ended it. It's over with."
"He only did so because of my guidance, and I'm sorry about that. I told him this too, but it's not something I wanted to do. Trust me. As his friend, it's the first time I've seen him genuinely and truly happy. It's all I wanted after the things he's gone through. But, I just can't risk it right now. San is beginning to reach new heights with his career and getting more real estate to do things he's been wanting to do with Jongho. You're also just getting into the groove of things. I don't want either of your hard work to get snatched away over something like this."
"No, I know Professor Kim. I do understand and I'm grateful. It just sucks. I don't know how else we would've gotten away with it, I guess." You sniff. "Maybe it had to happen."
"Look, I told him this, too. But, I can't police every detail and tell you who you can and can't date. If San is someone you care about, then so be it, but the only thing I ask of you is to keep it off campus. I cannot have you two interacting on campus or else he's out. Not by my choice, but the committee."
"I don't want anything to happen to him."
"I know, and he said the same thing about you. He cares just as much, so don't think that he doesn't." You dab your face with the napkin and nod.
"Jiung confessed and told me he came to you about it." Namjoon nods.
"I think he was just worried as your friend. Rightfully so. But, I think he also shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions right away."
"I told him that."
"If I hadn't known San so well, I probably would've believed Jiung." He sighs. "It's alright, he didn't know and he was worried. Are you two okay?"
"Not really, but I think we just need time. I'm trying to see his side of things, but I also didn't think he'd do that so it caught me off guard."
"I see. Well. Give yourself some time and grace, okay? I'm sorry it had to be this way for now." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. Eyes still shiny and watery from the crying you've just done.
I'm sorry it had to be this way for now.
It repeats in your head over and over again because why does it feel like this is just how it's gonna be? Despite Namjoon reassuring you, despite San's explanation. Why does it just feel like a fleeting moment? A chapter in your book— a part that was never really supposed to last.
"Thank you." He gives you a smile.
"So, shifting to the program. I was thinking I could pull you into my lab and we can figure out things as time goes on? Explore other options if there's anything else you'd wanna explore." You nod. "You know there's other paths we can look into, or if you're totally fine with where you're at in my lab, then we can just stick with that plan."
"That sounds good. Thank you, Professor Kim."
"Unfortunately, like I mentioned, I can't have you interacting with Professor Choi. I'll have to make sure you don't take any of his classes or end up in any collaboration projects with him." You nod.
"Okay. I understand."
"You'll have to halt all your work in his lab immediately. You can grab your things when you feel ready to, but I'll have you in my lab starting next week. I know it'll be a bit crazy with your rotation presentation, but I promise to make it a smooth transition."
"Okay." You purse your lips. "I'm almost finished with my rotation presentation."
"That's great!"
"It'll just be us three?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not the usual format but I need the dean to see all the good work you do."
"Thank you. I appreciate your support."
"Do you have any questions so far? Any other concerns?" You think for a second before shaking your head.
"No."
"I'll send you some onboarding info and give you the contacts to some key people in my lab to help you get started. We can figure out your project and goals in a little more depth next week. Let's aim for a Monday morning meeting? 9am?"
"Good with me."
"Thanks, Y/N. And please trust me when I say all is gonna be well."
"Thank you."
"See you next week? Be sure to keep an eye out for my emails." You nod as you stand and tuck your bag closely to you.
"I will." You give him another smile before heading out of the door. Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and plops back down onto his chair, picking up his direct line to ring the dean's office phone. It rings for a few minutes before the dean is answering on the other end.
"Namjoon."
"Hey. Can we meet today to talk about what's been going on? I can be over in the next 15 minutes."
"I'm free, but I have a hard cut off in 45 minutes."
"That's plenty of time. I'll be there soon."
"See you." Joon hangs up and gathers his things, loosening his tie to get himself together for this meeting. He doesn't necessarily wanna do this, nor does he think he's ready for whatever the dean could unleash on him.
On you, on San.
But, he has a job to do and he'll make damn sure he gets his point across. He'll make damn sure he controls this well, and he'll make sure nothing happens to the both of you.
When he gets into the building and heads straight for the dean's office, he's greeted by the front desk and his executive assistant. The dean's assistant knocks on his door and pops her head in to give him a heads up about Namjoon's visit. It isn't long before she's gesturing for him to come into his office, stepping out and slowly shutting the door behind her once Namjoon's settled in the seat in front of him.
"Namjoon."
"Dean Louie." Namjoon clears his throat. "Can we discuss what's been going on? I've got a chance to review this more in depth."
"Great. So, tell me. What's with the anonymous tip? Is there truth behind San and his student's relationship?"
"No." The dean looks at him with his head cocked to the side. "Not at all."
"Namjoon. This isn't the time to play games."
"Who said I was?" Joon asks. "This is purely a rumor and there is nothing going on between the two of them. To keep things safe, I'll make sure they don't cross paths and interact on campus, and I'll make sure to work closely with her and keep her under my wing." Namjoon says.
"A rumor? That blew up around campus? What about Iseul and Yunho? Iseul told me about the happy hour event with San. All of this seems too good to be true, and if you're covering for them—" Namjoon cuts him off.
"Since when did Iseul and Yunho have their best interest in San? All I know is that they've always been the driving issue, not San." Namjoon looks at the dean confused. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a rumor is a rumor and I've gotten to the bottom of it. I talked to the both of them and they denied it through and through. The only reason why San got caught up in the whole happy hour business was because a postdoc was crossing the line and being really disrespectful to her. Any one of us would've done it had we caught it right away like San did." Namjoon continues to furrow his brows. "Now, please. I'd appreciate if we can move on." The dean sits back and lets out a hefty sigh.
"Go on."
"As stated in my email, she will do her rotation presentation in front of myself, you and San. After that, she will be removed from his lab and will be placed in mine. We'll have weekly check-ins, and I'll work with her to move her classes around and realign her priorities so that she and San don't cross paths in this program again."
"And what about this real estate in the building? I'm not going to give it over if this is what San plans to do—"
"I'm sorry, but this shouldn't define San and his work." Namjoon pauses. "He's not, alright? I already confirmed it was a rumor and there is nothing going on. No reason for you to pull back on that real estate deal especially when Jongho had nothing to do with this either and San has already explained his side and agreed to comply regardless. She'll be out of his lab." The dean gives Namjoon a stern look.
"You better make damn sure this doesn't happen again, Namjoon. No rumors, no slip ups. And you make sure those three stop causing trouble on campus. Iseul, Yunho and San. I don't care who did what and who is blaming who, I need this to stop. Now. We can't have childish, petty issues running amuck on this campus."
"You have my word."
"If I hear San and Y/N in the same sentence again, I can't promise it will be the same outcome."
"With all due respect, I need you to understand that whatever they do, whatever happens off campus, doesn't concern me and shouldn't concern you either. I cannot police their behavior and make them act a certain way off grounds. They are both grown, mature adults that can make decisions on their own, and you know that's unfair and very unrealistic." The dean doesn't say much. He mutters a few things under his breath before he's returning his attention to Namjoon.
"Not a damn word about them ever again, Namjoon. I mean it." The dean warns him again before settling into his seat and returning his attention to his desktop computer. Namjoon does a quick, silent bow before walking out, sighing loudly to himself as he's finally gotten that over with.
Still doesn't make it any easier knowing he had his friend make a very difficult decision that he did not wanna do.
He hopes in time, this could blow over and San could be happy again. Despite this hurdle, he's betting on it. On you and him.
Maybe when you come back together, circumstances will be different enough that it won't make the relationship seem as bad as it does right now.
"Shit." Namjoon clicks his teeth when he finally gets out of the building and breathes in the fresh air. He is exhausted, but his day isn't about to be over, no. On his way back to his office, he finds Yunho speaking to a few colleagues in the courtyard. He must have gotten out of a meeting and was walking his visitors out.
And Namjoon doesn't give a fuck. That visit is ending now.
"Professor Kim! It's an honor to see you in the flesh!" Namjoon smiles at his guests before returning the favor.
"Hi there." Namjoon does a curt bow. "Hope you've enjoyed your visit."
"Completely. We had a great collaboration meeting with Professor Jeong here, and he gave us a tour around."
"That's great, yeah." Namjoon smiles before looking at Yunho. "Can we talk in my office?" Namjoon says near Yunho's ear. "Now?"
"Sure." Yunho bids his last farewell before excusing himself and following Namjoon straight to his office. No words being spoken or shared. Namjoon shuts the door and sighs, looking at Yunho with his hand on his hip. "What's going on, Joon?"
"I'm just trying to understand why you and Iseul are trying so hard to ruin that man's reputation. The dean told me Iseul went over there to give him more of her little intel on San."
"I don't know what she said or did—"
"You still knew about it, didn't you?" Namjoon looks at him. "You knew this whole time Iseul was trying to raise hell about this and you let her."
"How is this not wrong?"
"No one said it wasn't wrong, Yunho!" Namjoon raises his tone. "There were just better ways to go about it than throwing San's name out there the way you two did. Just throwing him out there to the wolves without even knowing the full story. That's the problem!"
"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like it now, but we were looking out for him and everyone else potentially involved."
"Except me. If you knew better, you both would've let me handle this accordingly. This doesn't just affect him, Yunho. It affects you both. It affects me. It affects Y/N, Jongho, everyone. Because you both didn't know how to be discreet about your plans to bring San down."
"It was never like that!"
"Then, what was it like? Tell me. As his colleague, as someone who acted purely for their own benefit, what was it like? As San's ex-bestfriend, what was it like?" Yunho doesn't respond. "This isn't high school, Yunho. I'm sorry, but the both of you need to grow up."
"We just tried to do the right thing and I don't take any of it back. If you fail to see that, then that's on you—"
"Oh, so approaching the dean to give him more talk in his ear with your so-called evidence before coming to me is doing the right thing?" Namjoon looks at him. "What was the goal here? What did this plan look like to you and Iseul?” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I don't wanna hear it, she already came into my office to talk my ear off about this. That should've been enough to let me handle it." Namjoon furrows his brows at him.
"We just thought we were helping everyone—"
"Helping? Yourself or Iseul?" Namjoon shakes his head. "You know what, this is done. The damage is done. So, thank you and Iseul for your generous help." Yunho sighs. "Now that you've done all the talking, it's my turn." Joon steps closer to him. "As long as I'm around, I'll continue to keep the peace in this department, and that means I don't want you and Iseul meddling in San's personal matters ever again." Namjoon's jaw ticks as he and Yunho stare at each other in the brief pause that falls between them. "I don't want you meddling in Y/N's personal matters, I don't want you two doing anything on this campus besides running your labs and minding your own goddamn business. Do you understand me?" Namjoon places his hands on his hips while he and Yunho maintain eye contact. Yunho swallows thickly before nodding, digging his hands in his pockets.
"Yes sir."
"The next time you and Iseul wanna act like I don't know how to do my job, I promise I'll be good with reminding you."
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—read 14.5 here
—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated
#san fanfic#san series#choi san series#choi san fanfic#san#ateez#choi san#san x reader#ateez x reader#kpop imagines#kpop#kpop smut#san x y/n#choi san x y/n#san angst#san fluff#san smut#choi san angst#choi san fluff#choi san smut#ateez angst#ateez smut#ateez fluff#hwaslayer: wildfire
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❝𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 !❞ j. todd x f!reader
i run in & turn on the lights,
run my hands to his short, black hair,
"i love you, harvey, i don't care."
𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. the joker & his stupid, ugly, rusty, stinky crowbar.
𝓝otes
001. weejendn reached 200!!9#$($(#($ ohmygods THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU..DNDSSKJS
002. SCREAMING
003. idea ws by @/rob1nzex because i don't tolerate jason todd angst. ZzldaLSVR MEANLONE
004. ppl r prolly annoyed w my works bc most of them r js comforting j. todd. IMSORRRIRYDHDJ i js lobelobelobe comforting j. todd
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jason returns home earlier than he normally does. not because the streets of gotham are somehow safer▰just because he's tired. his body is weighed down as he locks his bike in the garage of his apartment building. the night air is chilly, nipping at the edges of his jacket, but he doesn't even notice. he should eat something. he should wait for you. but he won't.
he pulls himself up the stairs, unlocks the door, & enters his apartment. it's nothing like the manor, where there is always someone awake, where the floors creak under the weight of too many bodies, where alfred would make him eat before he could do anything else. here, it's just him.
well, sometimes.
your keys aren’t by the door, which means you’re probably at work. jason’s aware of that, so he doesn’t wait around. he tosses his helmet onto the couch, shrugs off his jacket, & heads straight for the bathroom.
the shower is hot, but he hardly flinches. he washes himself off, zoning out as the blood(his & others' mostly others')rinses away down the drain. his fingers dig into the bruises along his ribs, seeing how painful they are. not bad. he's had worse.
then he dries off, puts on a pair of sweats, & flops onto the bed. the sheets are cold. though, they wouldn't be if you were here. but you're not, so he goes to bed early.
he shouldn't. he knows what happens when he goes to bed too early.
jason doesn't dream much▰at least, not about anything good. tonight is no different.
the crowbar swings.
his ribs crack.
joker's laughing, & he's down on the floor, choking, blood in his lips. he struggles to get up, but his arms refuse to move. every part of him aches. he can't catch his breath▰
the joker swings again.
& again.
& again.
again.
again. again. again. again.
jason jolts awake. screamed. his muscles shaking wildly, his breathing clipped & harsh. his heart thudding in his chest, & he feels sure he still feels the memory agony of the crowbar digging into his skin.
the room is black.
quiet.
no one runs in to turn on the light.
jason lets out a deep breath, his body still shaking, & runs a hand through his short, black hair. it's okay. it's okay. it's okay. he's accustomed to this. he can do it. he’s used to this. he should get used to this. he▰
the door opens.
light comes into the room.
jason doesn't have time to move before you barge in, wearing your hello kitty pajamas, you look like you just came out of the shower. when did you arrive?
"jay?" you're whispery, but urgent, as if you're not sure he won't disappear on you if you're too loud.
he doesn't move. he just blinks at you, still trapped between the past & the now. he didn't expect you. he didn't expect anyone.
you sigh, moving closer, & before he can tell you anything, you move in & ran your fingers through his hair, just as he'd done moments before. your touch is soft, cautious, centering. like he's some delicate art that's meant to be in a museum. jason's shoulders relax a bit, as if the burden of his own head is just a little less heavy with you around.
"you're okay," you whisper. "you're safe."
jason swallows. his throat is tightened he wants to tell you something, but all that gets out is, "you weren't supposed to be home yet."
you give a soft laugh, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. "i got off early." you pause before continuing, "are you okay?"
jason laughs harshly, turning away. "yeah. just a nightmare."
you don't appear to believe him, but you don't press. you sit down next to him on the bed, your hand still in his hair, letting the silence remain. jason allows you to.
for a moment, neither of you speaks.
then, softly, jason says, "i don't understand why you stay."
you blink. "what?"
his jaw tightens. "you're too good. & i'm just…" he takes a harsh breath, shaking his head. "i don't know. i don't want to mess you up."
your brows furrow, but your voice remains soft. "jason."
"i mean it," he grumbles. "i don't want to▰taint you. you should be with someone▰"
"say 'better' & i'm gonna hit you," you cut in, & jason looks at you, taken aback. you're frowning at him now, but not angrily. it's more frustration. sadness. you're upset.(no shit)
you, once again, let out a sigh & reposition so you're facing him correctly. "you ever seen a pomegranate?"
jason blinks. "what?"
"a pomegranate," you say again. "it's messy. red & kinda violent-looking when you open it up. if you're careless, it stains everything. but if you take your time with it. if you're patient, it's sweet. worth it." your thumb traces lightly over his temple. "you think you're just a mess, jason. but you're not. you've just never been handled right."
jason looks at you.
you look back.
for a moment, you wonder if he's going to fight. perhaps he's going to sneer, roll his eyes, inform you that you're wrong. but he doesn't. he simply looks… exhausted.
he slowly exhales, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, & your heart breaks.
you shift your position, now lying beside him, still running your fingers through his hair. "i love you, jay." you whisper. "i don't care that you think you're messy, or broken, or whatever else your mind is trying to make you think. i love you, i'm not leaving. mess me up all you want. taint me. you're worth the mess.”
jason doesn't answer immediately. but eventually, his hand reaches for yours, interlacing his & your fingers together.
"…okay," he whispers.
you smile, laying a kiss on his lips.
"okay."
© minorlyatfault, 2025.
#vi's basket ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎#jason todd x reader#jason todd#red hood x reader#red hood#dc x reader#dc comics#dcu#dc
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No Regrets
My roommate's body keeps looking at me like I'm supposed to be making the first move. It was weird enough when my roommate and his girlfriend swapped bodies for the weekend, but the unspoken tension was starting to become unbearable. "Seriously, Tiffany, you're starting to creep me out. Don't you and Daniel have plans for tonight?"
She just smiled at me. "No plans. I'm still deciding how I want to spend my evening. Daniel, though... he's taking my body out clubbing tonight. He wants to see how many free drinks he can score, and I think he's also planning to get laid." Gross. I knew better than to say anything out loud, but my face must have given me away. "Don't be such a prude, Jeff. You know we have an open relationship."
I tugged at my collar. "I know, Tiff, I'm sorry. I just... body swaps that cross the gender line still make me uncomfortable. It feels wrong, somehow. And, I mean, technically they are illegal."
"Oh please, get over yourself," she said, tossing herself onto his bed. "Swaps over 12 hours are also illegal, but that didn't stop you from hiring someone to take your Calc exam two weeks ago. You need to learn how to relax. Not everything you were told on Sundays is true, you know. Some things aren't actually all that bad. You're only clutching your pearls because society told you that swapping genders was bad. What harm is there, as long as both people consent?"
I wanted to argue, but I knew Tiffany was absolutely correct. There wasn't anything wrong with the two of them swapping bodies outside of society telling us that men and women could only swap with other men and other women. Which... given the way that their open relationship also defied societal expectations, I suppose it wasn't too much of a surprise that the two of them thought so little about swapping like this. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I... I'm trying, really. You've heard how conservative my childhood was. It's a lot to unlearn."
"Well, maybe it's time to start unlearning," she said, beckoning me closer. "You want to know the real reason I'm still here? It's because of you, stud. I'm here to see you." Did Tiffany just call me a stud? She had to be mocking me, but I could feel myself blushing all the same.
Tiffany started to unbutton my shirt, brushing her fingers along my exposed chest as she did so. I could feel myself growing erect. Were we... were we really doing this? They were in an open relationship, after all, it wasn't like he was helping Tiffany cheat on his roommate. With his roommate? God, Swappers made things confusing.
"I've seen the way you look at Daniel," she said, rubbing a hand across the stubble on my chin. "I love the man, but he's too straight and too clueless to pick up on those stares. And honestly, I can't help but think that you're too sheltered to realize you're even doing it half the time."
"I... thought I was hiding it better," I said, trying to steady my emotions. Her fingers started to tease my nipples, leaving me squirming with raw pleasure. "I still don't know if I'm bisexual, or gay, or just... Mormon. But I didn't think it mattered. He's already in a relationship with you. What I want isn't important."
"He's in an open relationship," she said, staring at me like I was a hunk of meat to be devoured. "He's also not here right now. I'm in control of this body right now, and I want to fuck you senseless. If that's what you want too, well..." Tiffany slipped her hand inside my waistband, giving my manhood a firm squeeze that had me gasping for breath. "Tonight's a perfect night to let loose. No regrets."
I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in for a quick kiss, which Tiffany returned with tongue. The two of us stripped down as fast as we could, though I made certain not to let her pull me onto the bed with her. "Not on Daniel's bed," I said, dragging her over to my part of the bedroom. "His sheets reek of frat boy sweat, and I doubt he has any lube."
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"I, uhh... you're alright with being on top, right?" I asked, as I handed her the bottle of lube from my nightstand. It occurred to me that we hadn't actually talked through any plans, set boundaries, or anything like that. "The way you phrased it, I'm assuming that's what you meant, I just--"
"Stop. Thinking." Seeing Daniel's face looming over me, with a look of pure lust on his face, it was everything I never knew I needed. I started rolling over onto my knees before she yelled at me. "Not like that, stay on your back. I want to see your face as I fuck you senseless."
Tiffany spent the entire time telling me exactly what to do, and it was everything I could have ever wanted. She got me lubed, eased me onto her massive manhood, and railed me like there was no tomorrow. My chest was coated in strands of my own cum, while Daniel's cum slowly leaked out of my ass. I'd never had a no-hands orgasm before, but holy hell I could not believe how amazing that felt.
"I can't believe we just did that," I said, trying to catch my breath. She responded by scooping up some of the jizz off of my torso and putting it into her mouth. She was making an entire production out of licking it off of her finger, and I could feel myself getting hard again. "So, uhh... you... you'll be in Daniel's body for the entire evening?"
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"If that's your way of asking me if I'd like to fuck you again? The answer is yes," she said, giving me a wink. "Even better, we might be able to make this a weekly thing," she added, standing up to grab some towels. "I don't think I'll have to fight too hard to convince Daniel to swap. What sort of straight man doesn't enjoy having boobs?"
God, I was falling for her so hard. What had I gotten myself into? Life was going to be a long, awkward hell once my roommate was back in his own body. And yet... I had to admit, I had no regrets.
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Day 27- Love
(Mini Fic bc I can’t control myself)
A knock at the door, though Atsushi knew who damn well it was. Kyouka waited for a response but Atsushi’s pouts only told her how this was going to go.
“Are you not going to tell him to leave?” Kyouka whispered.
“I can not deal with him messing with me right now.” Another knock, this time it sounded a bit more eager. Atsushi pinched the bridge over his nose and in his fit sank in his seat. His leg bounced with a heavy recoil.
“He’s not going to stop.” Kyouka said quickly, because she knew Atsushi was going to cut her off. “He never stops.” Atsushi did exactly what she predicted. “He just messes with me and finds it fun or something. Bother me here there, humiliate me there.. I’m done, Kyouka.”
Another bang, “Atsushi, you know I can hear you, let me just talk.” Dazai’s words sounded a bit slurred. “He is not… Drunk!” Atsushi in his fit slammed is fist into the table.
Any motives to keep to himself left the window. Atsushi had stormed to the door, ripping it open that it almost felt to come off it’s hinges. Dazai stood in front of him. His clothes and hair were a mess, as if he were tugging and pulling on them. He had sweat and a bit of blush. He reeked of booze.
“What.” Atsushi said through his teeth.
Kyouka was behind the weretiger, peaking over his shoulder to see the mess in the hallway.
“Before you slam the door on me, I want to say I’m sorry.” Dazai saw Atsushi reach for the door, his hand stopped it’s momentum. The noise of the slam echoed through the space around them. “See, I knew you’d do that.”
“Wow, aren’t you so smart.” Atsushi glared up at him. “I know you’re angry, but the sass. I’m trying here. Just entertain me?” Dazai said desperately. Atsushi lifted a brow, “Wrong words. Please.”
“Go on, Dazai.” Atsushi groaned. His arms formed a tight knit pose.
The brunette straightened himself up, “I’m sorry. You should know this was not your fault and I set it up because I was scared.”
“You… Scared?” Atsushi commented.
“I… I have this habit if something gets close to me, I rig it so I lose before I get truly attached. I don’t know why I do it, just that in the moment it was… a good idea.” Dazai looked down at this point, “I’ll torment them, tease, mess with their head. I did it as a teen and I still do it now. You were… getting to me and I acted to scare you off. Pissing you off was what I wanted at the time… Just, I felt like shit humiliating you like that. Unlike the other ones, I didn’t feel relief, I felt sad and alone. So I got drunk and crashed in the street. Kunikida found me and gave me my pants… That I lost for some reason? It seemed like losing my pants told me- you’re different compared to the others. I wasn’t okay with you leaving because I think I love you? I don’t know what that means or will happen? I feel like shit and I’m sorry for doing that to you… I just wanted to tell you and give you closure.” Atsushi and Kyouka didn’t know when their jaw dropped. Just all those words felt weird coming from his mouth and specifically from Dazai. Once the brunette looked at them, his face dropped.
“Wait, that isn’t what I meant to say! Ugh,” A fist bonked his head. “That isn’t how I wanted to tell you that.”
“You… Love me?” Atsushi instantly down his guard, he relaxed his arms, “You’re so bad with emotions… I should have guessed. I’m not mad anymore… But most people who crushes on someone gets them gifts or asks them out.” “I… I know what I did was not okay. I just, I know I ruined my chances, but I still want to be friends.”
“Who said I consider them ruined? I’m not mad anymore, but I do not want to talk about this while you’re drunk. Go home and we’ll talk about over coffee?” Both Dazai and Kyouka responded the same way with their opened cat like expressions.
“Yep. Okay. I can do that…” Dazai nervously pant his thigh and backed up, “9?”
“You know you’re not getting up at 9.” Atsushi chuckled, “11. You know which one.” Dazai looked away before smiling back. He left the view. Atsushi closed the door.
“You took that well.” Kyouka said impressed.
Atsushi nearly collapsed but caught himself on the door, in a muffled squeal, “He likes me back.”
“Have some honor!” Kyouka teased with a push.
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou gay dogs#bsd atsushi nakajima#bsd dazai osamu#dazai x atsushi#dazatsu#dazatsumonth2025#bsd fic
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Rafe watches your favorite show without you.
Rafe x fem!reader
summary: When Rafe watches a new episode without you, he faces your wrath—or does he?
tags: fem!reader, pet names (babe, baby), some kissing, mention of Severance but no spoilers I promise
a little something I decided to whip up, heh. Idk if this is even that good but f it we ball
You loved Rafe deeply, but right now, he was enemy #1.
One of your favorite things to do with your boyfriend was watch shows together. The two of you had recently gotten hooked on Severance, tearing through the first season in a single weekend. Now season 2 was in full swing, and you were excited to catch the latest episode—after you came back from your old college roommate's bachelorette party weekend, of course.
Rafe had groaned when you'd reminded him that you were going to be in Charleston for the weekend. He was (mostly) okay with you leaving him for a few days, but what really sucked was not having your weekly Severance date.
You'd returned from your trip feeling exhausted yet happy after a weekend of partying with your girls. All you'd wanted to do was cuddle up with your man and catch up on your show. When you'd played the episode on your laptop, you noticed that Rafe wasn't reacting to certain story developments like you were—almost as if he had already seen them unfold...
You paused the episode and turned to Rafe, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Rafe Cameron, did you watch the new Severance without me?"
Rafe smiled bashfully, knowing he was caught. "Babe I tried to wait, I really did. But I was so bored last night and I couldn't resist..."
You tsked at Rafe. "Wow, you just broke a cardinal rule. Don't watch a show without your partner!"
"I should've been patient and waited for you. I'm sorry, baby," Rafe replied, genuinely sounding contrite.
You thought about playing up your disappointment more—making him sweat a little—but Rafe was looking at you with puppy dog eyes that you simply couldn't resist.
"I guess it's okay," you said, flashing your boyfriend a smile. "But you're gonna have to make it up to me..."
Rafe pulled you into his lap, kissing that special spot behind your ear. You moaned, leaning into him as he moved to your neck, lavishing it with kisses. "What'd you have in mind, princess?"
"Um..." You'd had an idea brewing, but Rafe's kisses had your brain scrambled in the best possible way. He chuckled at you, giving you a peck on your nose.
"How about after dinner, I'll watch that Summer House show you like?" Rafe offered.
This was huge. Rafe hated reality TV and always popped his earbuds in whenever you'd turn Bravo on.
"Wow, you really are sorry, huh?" you teased, laying your head on Rafe's shoulder.
A lazy grin tugged at Rafe’s lips. “I'll make sacrifices for the woman I love.”
“I appreciate it, babe. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you warned him with a mock sternness.
Rafe smirked. “Yes, ma’am. I love it when you get bossy.”
You rolled your eyes, though your eyes sparkled with amusement for your silly boyfriend. You closed your laptop—you could always catch up with Severance tomorrow. Right now, cuddling with your boyfriend and taking a nap sounded pretty appealing.
#tiff writes#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfic
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Can I request 32 & 39 with Kirby Dach? Maybe it’s friends and feelings get confessed?
prompt no. 32: "did I stutter?" + prompt no. 39: "you're wearing that?"
the smell of sweet candy mixed with a little bit of jasmine floats through the air, sticking to your neck and chest as you spray the perfume against your skin. once you feel like you’ve done enough, you set the small bottle down against the bathroom counter, a dull thud echoing through your apartment.
you’ve always had a weird routine when you’re getting ready for a date. you always shower and wash your hair, even if your hairs clean—a fresh blow out is always superior and has you look your best. while your hair is drying you do your make up, all wrapped up in your fuzzy white robe, and then you dry your hair. before you get dressed, you spray your perfume. you don’t know why, you’ve always just done it that way.
you leave the bathroom and intended to make your way to your closet and pick out something appropriate for dinner. it’s doesn’t help that your date told you nothing about where he’s taking you—leaving your outfits options very limited. you met this guy on a dating app a few days ago. he seemed nice enough and was eager to take you out, so you thought there was no harm in agreeing.
your friend kirby on the the hand, well, he thinks online dating is stupid. three days ago when you texted kirby about your dinner, his response was; ‘seriously? online dating? again?’
and yeah maybe he’s valid in being skeptical. this ain’t your first online date. and you have a track record of ending up with awful guys—guys who talk over you, don’t pay for you meal, say that you look better in your pictures and many more awful things you choose to forget. those dates always end with you on kirby’s doorstep, tears in your eyes while he brings you into a hug.
three heavy knocks sound on your door, halting your steps hallways into your bedroom. is that your date? already? he’s almost 30 minutes early. you look down at your robe, a robe you’re very much naked under, and frown. against your better judgment you make your way down the hall, and towards the door.
“you’re early,” you start, bright smile on your face as you pull open the door, “I wasn’t expecting-what are you doing here?”
it’s kirby on your doorstep, tall and grinning with a tight jaw, dressed in sweats like it’s causal friday at the office or something. “rude.” he scoffs half heartedly before eyeing your attire—or lack there of—of robe and bare feet, toenails painted a deep red that remind him on his jersey.
“I have a date tonight,” you reiterate, slowly, fingers gripping the edge of the door, “remember?”
kirby’s jaw slacks dramatically, brows furrowing as he makes a noise of remembrance. “that was tonight?” he breathes and then gives you a half assed shrug, “my bad.”
“yes,” you huff, “that was tonight.”
“well,” he sighs, clapping his hands together in a soft clap before brushing past your shoulder and walking straight into your apartment. “i’m here now.” he says.
“sure,” you mumble, shutting the door, “come in kirby.”
“gladly.” he reply’s, making himself comfortable on your work out jade green couch. you found it at a thrift store when you moved to montreal four years ago, and it’s been your baby ever since. “so…where is this guys taking you?” kirby questions casually, pulling on a loose thread half attached to a cushion.
you’ve already started walking back down the hall. the date is still happening whether kirby is here or not, and you’re still half naked. “some restaurant,” you tell him from your closet, “he didn’t specify.”
your voice is a little muffled, but you’re not that far away from the living room, so you’re still audible. regardless, kirby stands up and walks towards the hall. he doesn’t go down, but instead leans against the corner. “isn’t that a red flag?” he asks. la little kidnappy, don’t you think?”
“no.”
“really?” he stresses.
“yes, really,” you breathe a laugh, moving hangers as you search through your section of dresses. “what’s up with you?”
“nothing,” kirby says quickly but casually. you can practically feel his shoulders shrug. “it’s just fridays are usually our movies nights.” he mumbles.
“first of all, we did that one time,” you huff, sliding one of your little black dresses off the plastic hanger and slipping your legs through, “second of all, you usually have a game on fridays.”
“a game that if it was tonight you would’ve be able to come to because of some pointless date.”
you roll your eyes, slipping on the dress completely. it’s simple and plain, but also very flattering and appropriate from a dinner date. maybe a little revealing in the bust, but you’re trying to get your food paid for. you leave your room, “it’s not pointless.” you tell kirby, eyes flashing in surprise when you find him not on the couch, but instead at the end of the hall.
you watch his eyes rake over your dress, jaw popping and tightening as he grinds his teeth. his expression gets hazy and you can’t decide what that means. you swallow, suddenly feeling very nervous, shifting between your two feet as kirby’s eyes slowly find yours again.
he swallows roughly. “you’re wearing that?”
you blink. “what?”
“did I stutter?”
you scoff out a laugh, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
kirby shakes his head in disbelief, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he pauses, eyes trained on the ceiling for a beat. “you’re wearing a dress like that to a mysterious restaurant with a guy you’ve never met,” he says firmly, look back to you, “this sounds like the start of every true crime documentary where the naive pretty girl gets murdered.”
“oh my god!” you huff loudly, arms crossing over your chest, “what’s the deal with you tonight?”
“my deal?” he repeats lowly, taking a step down the hallway and closer to you, “my deal is that I don’t want you to meet up with some guy off tinder who will most likely end up hurting your feelings. and then you’ll be on my doorstop—again—crying because you keep going out with pathetic losers who can’t even hold a conversation.”
your face falls, eyes fluttering in shock. kirby sighs gently, running a hand over his flushing face. he knows he said too much, went too far, but his apology dies on his tongue. words stuck in his throat.
“wow.” you huff lowly, arms dropping against your side with a quiet thud.
finally, kirby manages to find his wording, “sorry.”
“no!” you shake your head, “please, keep going. i’d love to hear how naive I am.”
he sighs, “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it .” kirby takes a few steps closer to you, shoulders hunched forward as if he’s nervous. as if he knows he’s done something wrong.
“sorry, I must’ve missed that part. you know, because of how naive I am.” you don’t give him the opportunity to come any closer, brushing past him aggressively as your shoulder rams into his bicep. you walk down the hall and into the kitchen, busying yourself by grabbing you wallet and phone that you’d left charging on the counter.
there’s a text from your date. he’s 5 minutes out. you’re too upset from the conversation with your friend to reply. your skin feels like it’s itchy, and your nose is stinging with emotion. you’re not sure what prompted kirby to say those things, or what made you react the way you did, but now everything feels awkward and messy. and that’s what’s upsetting you the most.
you sigh, grabbing your things and making your way to your front door. kirby can let himself out you think. it’s not your problem. your hand grasps the the chilling metallic knob, fully intending to wait outside and not have to feel kirby’s eyes on you anymore.
“don’t go.”
your pause, fingers flexing around the door knob as kirby’s deep voice echos through your apartment.
you swallow, “i’m sorry?” you question timidly, back still turned to your friend. your breathe catches as you hear his footsteps come closer, his scent and body heat enveloping your body.
“don’t go out with him,” kirby repeats, “don’t go out with anyone.”
you scoff gently, eyes pointed questionably as you release the door knob, spinning on your heels, “who are you to tell me what to do-“
“i’m the guy who likes you for gods sake,” he’s much closer than you expected, practically pushing you against the front door with his chest. you breathe shakily, shoulder blades digging into the wood as you look up at him. his words feel like a rollar coaster drop in your stomach. your lips part, trying to find words, but you come up short.
“I really like you.” he says after a beat, eyes dancing all over your shock riddled face. staring into your glossy eyes, tracing the outline of your lined lips, counting every single freckle and mole across your cheeks. your skin feels hot, your blood pumping so fast that you can feel it.
“kirby.” you breathe, the pads of your fingers just barley brushing the stomach of his hoodie. realistically, he can barley feel your touch through the material, but somehow it feels like fire.
he licks his lip slowly, eyes darting back down to your lips. his hands gently take ahold of your face, holding the weight of your in his calloused, hockey working palms. “please just…don’t go out with him.” kirby mumbles, nose brushing along the bridge of yours in antagonizing strokes. “stay here with me.” it’s not a question this time, it’s a statement, mouth dusting yours with every words he speaks.
and as he encloses your top lip in between his, kissing you with the most tenderness you’ve ever felt, your date is long forgotten.
—
(unedited)
#🍾 ⊹˚₊ 1000 celly#❣️answered#kirby dach blurb#kirby dach imagine#kirby dach x reader#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#hockey blurb#hockey imagine
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The Tape - Part 2
Christian Yu x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC
Part 1
Masterlist
Warnings: hurt comfort, fluff, bold = flashback
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Christian reread the speech his company had given him for the press conference to address the leaked tape from a month ago. When he entered the hall flashing lights blinded him. As he took the podium all he could hear was the whispers of judgement from the press.
“Hello everyone, I appreciate you all coming today.” he began.
The speech was all apologies, all shame. With what he was hearing he could not stand by and apologize for something that was done to you both. You were the victims, why should you apologize?
Christian put the speech cards down, “I would like to begin by saying this was not only an attack on me but an attack on my partner Y/N. She is the most lovely person… neither of us deserved this and the man identified as the one who put the camera in the room is currently being prosecuted to the full extent of the law. The comments on my partner during this situation have been nothing less than vile, all who said such things should feel nothing but shame.” he said with confidence.
He could see his manager sweating out of the corner of his eye as he did not follow the script. Honestly, he couldn’t care less.
“The effect this has had on our lives and mental health has been detrimental… I ask for all of you to consider this - How would you feel if this was happening to you? Having sex with the love of my life is not a crime and I will not apologize for it. We are the victims in this. My wife and I will be taking an extended leave from the media to focus on what is most important, ourselves. Thank you.” he said before walking out of the room and straight back to the apartment.
You had become a husk of yourself over the last month. Pale and weak, withering away. You hardly spoke or ate. All you did day in and day out was sleep or cry into the pillows of your shared bed. Christian hadn’t been able to touch you in any way, you always flinched away from him for who knew if there were cameras in here as well?
“Y/N? Honey?” Christian said, knocking on the bedroom door lightly before walking in. The room was gloomy, hardly any light snuck into the room for the closed curtains draped themselves in a way that filled the room with despair.
You laid on your back, eyes closed. You looked peaceful when you were like this. Unable to worry about the nightmare at hand. Christian sat on the edge of the bed next to you. He traced his fingers softly over your angelic face, moving the hair from your eyes gently.
“I told the world what must be said. I made no apologies, I have no shame in this regard… the only thing I feel is sadness. Not for myself, but for you. I have dragged you into something that would never happen with someone else. And for that, I am so unbelievably sorry. However… I am a selfish man. I cannot bear to think of life without you, I won't.” Christian slid a ring onto your finger slowly so as to not wake you. “I want you with me always, I love you.” he said, kissing your knuckles.
You fluttered your eyes open at his proposal. The hand he was holding moved to cup his face, “Do you think we can beat this?” you asked with a scratchy tone, as if you hadn’t talked in days.
“I do.” he said immediately.
“That's my line.” you said, giving the gentlest of smiles. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone before you pulled him down to kiss you. You kept it short and sweet, still paranoid about the cameras. “I miss the sun on my skin…” you whispered against his lips.
Christian didn’t miss a beat, he picked you up bridal style and took you outside onto the balcony. The sun was setting, turning the sky into the most beautiful shades of pink and orange. The warmth of the summer air caressed your skin, shooing the cold of the dark bedroom away. Christian kept you in his arms, you nestled your head into the crook of his neck.
Christian rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, avoiding the bandages placed there. You had succumbed to an old nasty habit with everything going on - you cut yourself. None of it was enough to kill you, you just wanted to focus on something. Feel a different kind of pain.
“I love you.” you whispered.
“I love you.” Christian replied before kissing the top of your head.
You stayed like that until the sun was down and only the city lights of Seoul illuminated the sky. “They arrested the hotel staff who hid the camera… our lawyers are seeking the max penalty.” Christian said, trying to ease your tension.
You nodded. “Maybe one day we will joke about all this.” you muttered.
Christian chuckled before he let out a sullen sigh, “I’m so sorry all this happened.” he said with the utmost sincerity.
You kissed his neck, “It’s not your fault. It's something that never should have happened but it did and everyone who watched it, commented on it - they are the problem, not us.” you said with conviction.
“We should go to Italy.” Christian said.
You sat up, “What?”
“Let's leave for a while. Leave all this behind us and go enjoy paradise. We will come back when we are ready, on our own terms.” he smiled down at you.
“I guess I need to go pack.” you smiled back at him.
“I guess so Mrs. Yu.” he said, loosening his grip on you so you could stand.
“What if we eloped there?” you said, walking back into the apartment.
Christian hugged you from behind, picking you up. You squealed, letting out a giggle that was like music to his ears.
“Whatever you want my love.” he said before putting you down.
You turned, leaning your forehead against his. “Us against the world?” you asked, repeating the words you spoke to him on the day you met.
You had snagged the last pastry at the coffee shop, Christian chatted you up and you ended up sharing with him.
“What happens if they run out again?” he asked.
“I guess it’s just us against the world then.” you smiled with a shrug before laughing.
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Naboo's Note:
Hello :) I hope you guys like this, i feel iffy about it. I'm currently rocked off of muscle relaxers and am gonna have such a good sleep like right after I post this. I got a couple Christian requests so I will be getting those out as soon as I can. Thank you!!!! XOXOXOXOXOX
#writing#christian yu x y/n#christian yu x reader#christian yu#fanfiction#dpr ian#dpr ian x y/n#dpr ian x reader#dpr ian fluff
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I'm adding more because I want to write Tim
"What did you do!?"
It took Tim a moment to realize it wasn't Bruce screaming, that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him from drug induced hallucinations. It took Tim longer than normal for him to process that the words weren't directed towards him or Dick whose hand stopped the soothing pattern of petting his hair. They weren't for Damian who was clutching his hand almost painful hard. They weren't for Jason...
The words were Jason, whose standing between Bruce and the rest of them. Tim could tell Jason was scared, of course the kid who'd stalked Jason since he was Robin knew that, but more than the fear. There was anger, true anger, a familiar anger that still gives Tim chills when he remembers the night at Titans Towers. When Tim was on the other side of that anger, it wasn't fun.
"What did you do Bruce," Jason says his name with such venom, it felt like if Bruce wasn't careful enough he'd get bit and there was no saving him from what came next.
Tim's hazey on the details of what led him to the infirmary in the cave. Tim remembers getting gassed, then it's just vivid hallucinations of Bruce... When he wasn't in the best place. It was less hallucinations and Tim reliving his start to Robin. Even thinking about it makes Tim's hands sweat and his throat dry, Damian noticed of course he did. His little brother gently squeezes Tim's hand and Tim is pulled back to himself.
"I- he... Jason I-" Bruce seemed genuinely stumped like he couldn't get the words out, but Tim could even without meaning to
"He wasn't in the best place Jason," Tim watched Jason's shoulders drop as he turned around, Tim continued, "Bruce had lost you, he wasn't doing okay and Batman needed a Robin. So I became Robin," Tim leaves the rest unspoken but Jason picks up on it, they all do. A house full of detectives.
"What did you do Bruce, I want to hear you say it," Jason didn't turn around to face the man, Bruce himself looked like he had been gutted like a fish.
"I didn't mean to-" Bruce started but Jason wasn't having it.
"Liar! Tell me the truth! What did you do Bruce?!" Jason whirled around to face Bruce. The man seemed to shrink even further into himself and Jason scoffed before turning around to face the rest of them. His sharp gaze cut over to Alfred.
"You knew, you allowed it to happen. Probably helped Tim bandage himself up and turn a blind eye." Alfred didn't flinch but he became almost impercivably more stiff and ridged. Jason scoffed and cut his gaze to Dick.
"Did you know?" Jason's tone was low, the anger and venom wasn't as potent. Still there but under-cut with a desperate plea to his older brother. Dick flinched before speaking.
"I- Jaybird it- you were-" Dick stumbled over his words and suddenly the fury had returned.
"Did you know Richard?" The same venom dripped from Jason's mouth as he spat out Dick's real name. Dick didn't say anything but he hung his head pulling away slowly from Tim.
"Akhi?" Damian's small voice cried out, Tim didn't know what to do at the moment. Jason's eyes were glowing a sickly green. But Damian kept going, "Akhi, how do I help?"
Jason's eyes flicked to Tim and for a small moment Tim was prepared to feel the same venom dripping from his name. But something in Jason's eyes softened, he walked over to Tim and picked him up in one arm. Then he reached down and picked up Damian in the other.
"We're leaving," Jason words were a growl, low and lethal, like a wolf protecting their young. Tim was shocked by how safe he felt in that moment.
"Little wing-" Tim watched Bruce place a hand on Dick's shoulder and Dick stopped what he was going to say. There was clear conflict in Dick's eyes then it became stead fast resolve and Dick stepped forwards.
Again Bruce's hand reached out but just as quickly as it reached a fist met his face and Bruce stumbled backwards clutching his jaw. Alfred immediately rushed to Bruce's side as Dick made long strides towards the rest of them. Jason tensed again but relaxed when Dick only followed from a distance.
"We'll talk once we're out of here," Dick just nodded solemnly at Jason's instructions.
Jason placed Tim onto the back of his bike before placing Damian on the front, reaching into his saddle bag and placing one helmet on Damian's head and then grabbing Tim's helmet from his bike and doing the same.
Then Jason got onto the bike and started it. Tim clutched onto Jason and buried his head into the back of Jason. Dick followed on his own bike. They were driving for a while and eventually Tim noticed they were crossing Gotham bridge, they were leaving Gotham city.
"Where are we going?" Tim's voice was small but he knew Jason heard it over their coms.
"Somewhere safe," was all Jason said.
They drove for hours eventually the road went from paved to gravel to dirt, the trees became thicker and more dense as they pushed further in. Jason never once drove recklessly, keeping a calm level head as he navigated the road with precision. They eventually reach a small clearing with a log cabin. Parking Jason gets off and once again picks up Tim, this time though he lets Damian walk but he holds the younger boy's hand.
Once they get to the door Jason pulls a key from somewhere and unlocks it, opening he sets Tim down and then intertwines his and Damian's hands. Gently he pushes them into the cabin while speaking.
"You two go inside, there's clothes in the back room for you to change into Tim. Sorry if they're a bit big, there's two freezers full of food for you two to eat. Me and Richard need to talk."
Damian simply nods and starts walking further into the cabin, still clutching Tim's hand.
"Come Timothy, you need to shower I'll find you something suitable to wear,"
Tim does shower quickly and finds clean clothes on the counter along with his Red Robin suit missing. The clothes are very baggy but Tim doesn't mind, he likes how he's almost drowning in the Gotham Knights sweater and the basketball shorts can be tied tight enough for them not the slip of.
Tim finds Damian sitting in the front room with a book on his lap, Tim catches the name of the book when Damian closes it: The Catcher in the Rye. Damian has also changed though Tim's pretty sure he just stole one of Jason's hoodies and that was it.
"What do you want to eat?" Tim wasn't hungry but he knew he needed to eat something.
"What are our options?" Tim shrugs so the two boys together set out to work digging through the freezes filled with food.
Eventually they find a bag of frozen tamales, the two of them instantly know it was very likely Jason's cooking and agreed to that. They followed the instructions written in Jason's hand writing and decided to make enough for all four of them, even if the younger two weren't sure if Dick would be joining them.
Eventually the food was warming up and the two boys moved to sit at the small table to wait when the door swings open, Jason comes stalking in a stack of chopped wood under one arm. Dick follows sheepishly behind, seemingly hesitant, also carrying a stack of wood. Jason drops his stack next to the first place before moving to take the stack from Dick.
"Go shower Dickhead, you stink," Jason nods towards the back, Dick just nods and walks off to grab a clean change of clothes and a shower.
Jason doesn't say anything, just stacking wood next to the first place then leaving and coming back with another stack of wood. He repeats the pattern for a bit before moving to the fire pace and checking that nothing was in the chimney, once satisfied he gets to work building a fire. He finishes right as Dick comes out of the shower. He's wearing a wonder woman t-shirt and a pair of joggers, both are slightly baggy on him. Not like Jason's clothes are on Tim and Damian but still Jason is comparably larger than Dick is and it shows.
"Watch the fire for a moment, I need to get the smell of Gotham off of me," Dick just nods and goes to crouch next to the fireplace. Tim and Damian watch Dick's face slowly go slack as he stares into the fire. Tim is the one to approach Dick, the younger boy sits down and gently leans against Dick. Laying his head gently on Dick's shoulder Tim starts humming a tune he's heard Dick hum to him before.
"I'm sorry, Tim, I'm so sorry," Dick's voice cracks with shame as tears roll down his cheeks and his body shakes, "I'm sorry I didn't protect you, I'm sorry-"
"It's okay Dick, it was complicated for you... You weren't around much. I don't blame you for what happened, you weren't in the right state of mind. You couldn't have known," Tim spoke softly and allowed Dick to pull Tim into a hug. The two jumped slightly when the oven beeped signaling that the food was done warming up. Jason appeared right on cue wearing a black tank top and wonder woman sweats.
The four all moved to the table and ate together, not much conversation being had. Tim had noticed the green glow was no longer present in Jason's eyes and he was slightly more relaxed. Once they were finished eating Jason had Dick help him drag the mattress off the bed and brought it to the living room. They all gathered pillows and blankets, creating the ultimate cuddle pile.
While waiting for Damian to finish showering, Tim found himself leaning against Jason watching the fire dance, he hadn't noticed the arm draped around him or himself drifting off until Jason spoke.
"Tim?" The boy in question hummed to single to Jason he was aware and listening.
"I'm sorry," Tim sat up and looked at Jason confused.
"For what?" Jason stared at Tim for a moment in disbelief before pulling him into a hug.
"I'm sorry for a lot of things, little wing, but mostly I'm sorry I attacked you and I'm sorry you suffered so much," Tim's grip on Jason's shirt tightened as he buried his head into Jason's chest.
"I forgave you a long time ago Jason, but thank you... Thank you,"
The four brothers held each other close that night, they didn't know what would await them in the morning. If there would be change from the one constant in their lives or if he would continue on like nothing had happened. They all hoped for the best but agreed and regardless of change or not, they had each other.
They had each other and each of them fit together like puzzle pieces, helping to rebuild one of them should one of them crumble and fall apart. They weren't perfect, no one was, but they were changing. Growing together as brothers.
someone who has the motivation to write a fic or draw please do something for me
tim and jason are on mission and tim gets fear gassed. he starts panicking when jason tries to help him and jason is afraid it’s because tim is scared of him (tim has told him a million times he’s over the titans tower incident but jason doesn’t believe him). but the reality is tim doesn’t see jason but the batman he knew when he first became robin
#good brother jason todd#dc jason todd#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne al ghul#damien wayne#damian wayne#good brother damian wayne#dick grayson#bruce wayne#bad parenting#batman comics#batfamily#batman and robin#batman#batboys#batbros#batbrothers#batkids#the batfamily#brotherly bonding#brotherly love#angst#hurt/comfort#batfamily fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3 writer#Tim Drake is Jason Todd's Robin#Like how Damian Wayne is Dick Grayson's Robin
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you called the wrong parent
ft. duke thomas and batmom
There was one thing that the goons in Gotham didn’t fully understand. If you attempt to kidnap a Wayne kid, don’t call their mom. She doesn’t like to bullshit with people, especially when it’s about her kids. She’s not gonna let a goon ask for ransom, she’ll personally find them and deliver an ass whooping. Apparently these goons that kidnapped Duke didn’t receive that message.
“I really suggest not to call my mama. She ain’t as sweet as the publishers make her out to be. Well she is, but not when there’s something bad happening to us” he tried warning the goons as the phone rang on speaker.
“Who the hell is playing on my phone?” you answer.
“We have your son” the bald goon spoke
“Which one? I got five” you asked irritated.
“What’s your name kid?” the tattooed goon asked Duke.
“Hi mama” Duke says loud enough for you to hear. Your response was a groan, and they heard some shuffling on your end.
“Hey baby, I’m on my way” you say hanging up the phone, not giving the goons any room to ask for ransom.
For the next thirty minutes the goons tried to talk about what they were going to do when you walk through the doors. If you could even find them, which made Duke chime in.
“You guys are screwed” he laughs.
“We aren’t scared of a woman kid” the bald one scoffs. The door to the warehouse opens loudly, and there you are in your sweats and a hoodie holding one of Jason’s guns pointing it at the goons.
“Let my son go” you said politely walking up to them knowing that Duke has most likely been free of his restraints by now.
“Did you bring the money?” the tattooed one asked.
“You idiots didn’t even ask for money. But since you aren’t moving to free my son. I hope y’all move fast enough to call an ambulance.” You deadpan.
“For who lady? You?” they asked laughing, but that laughter turned into screams after two gunshots rang through the warehouse.
“Yourselves” you say shrugging putting the gun in your tote bag. You turn to Duke “I know you broke free a while ago. Let’s go home” you say sticking your hand out. He grabs it pulling you in for a hug.
“Love you mama” he says squeezing you, “Also I warned them about calling you” he says laughing.
“Love you too baby” you said laughing at what he told you. The drive home he talked to you about his day up until his kidnapping, when you made it back to the manor everyone was standing in the foyer.
“Where were you?” Bruce asked walking up to you.
“Saving Duke” you reply smiling.
“I told them not to call her” Duke says making the others laugh. You pulled out the gun handing it back to Jason while everyone was laughing. That stopped everyone from laughing to look at you confused.
“They’re alive, just both have a bad knee now” you shrug heading upstairs, “I’m going to finish my nap” you said looking over your shoulder.
#batman x fem!reader#batman x reader#duke thomas#the signal#duke thomas x batmom#batmom#bruce wayne x you#batman wfa#duke thomas x reader#bruce wayne x black!reader#bruce wayne x batmom
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⁸. ⁿᵒ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ
⁺₊✦₊
pairing: senku x f!reader
chapter 8 of 2/2- i. senku
⁺₊✦₊
Taiju and Yuzuriha noticed that Senku had grown quiet sometimes, sometimes pausing in between conversations about what he was working on, staring ahead in the distance before talking again.
He had only grown more frustrated since [Name] hadn't shown any signs of waking up and he's been itching to get the bottom of it. She was fine a day before their anniversary, laughing and smiling cheerfully, and had no signs of any coma-related symptoms. Then, the next day, she was in a coma with no explanation that even the medical staff could explain.
"What's her name?" Yuzuriha asked him quietly; the [Name] ]-like doll was quietly writing a few formulas for him on the bed.
"She doesn't have one. Although she knows my name, [Name] must have programmed her to know everything about me." Senku says arms crossed as he watches Taiju poke the doll machine swatting his hand away.
"Master Senku said I need to finish this before the day ends." The little robot resembling [Name] says, annoyed at Taiju, who keeps poking her cheek.
"She's so human-like, you can't even tell she's an android." The brown-haired boy says Senku kept staring at the small android; it's not tall, it barely reaches his knees, and it can fly in the air with no problem.
To him, seeing an android this advance is mesmerizing and just heart-aching.
[Name] was supposed to give the small android to him directly, not Byakuya; he had learned from the recorded messages played by the android that this was supposed to be his anniversary gift from her.
This android, who resembles his girlfriend, was supposed to be his assistant if she couldn't be there.
"....the best name it can have is naming it after its creator." He says as Yuzuriha looks back at him, she smiles sadly at this.
"Little [Name]."
࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐
Senku and Little [Name] stared down at what they had just done, the little android leaning in as Senku looked dejected.
"No! No, it looks nice!" She tries to cheer him up, clearly panicking. "Ooooh, you should definitely become a hair stylist!"
"I've never seen a perfectly cut bang!" She says, sweating.
Senku groans, rubbing his face, refusing to look at his own terrible actions. [Name]'s hair had obviously gotten longer during her coma and he thought it would be a good idea to trim and keep her hair neat. But he screwed up badly.
He slowly looks down at her face; her right eye is covered by her bangs, while the rest of her bangs are cut so poorly. He thought he could do a clean-cut but messed up halfway through.
"She's going to kill me." He whispered, pale.
"Don't worry Master Senku, we'll fix it." The android holds up the scissors again, but he holds her back. "N...no, we should probably stop before we make it worse."
—
Yuzuriha squeals. Happily, she had hogged Little [Name] for the day, and now the two were having a small fashion show.
"Aw, you look cute in anything!" She says, her eyes sparkling in inspiration to make new clothes.
.
"Let me down! I can't give you advice about confessing your undying love for Yuzuriha! I'm an assistant for Master Senku, not you!?" Little [Name] shouts angrily as Taiju carries her under his arms, clearly not flinching as the girl squirms around to get away.
"Master Senku, help!!"
.
Senku stared at Little [Name], who was happily eating a piece of warm bread. She didn't need to eat, but he did it out of habit; although she was an android, she resembled a human. Plus she enjoyed eating sweets.
࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐
It's been a year, Senku being 16 now but [Name] remained in her eternal sleep. Unfortunately, her father moved her to a private hospital because her coma-like state was leaked to the media and Yuzuriha had caught someone from the media inside [Name]'s hospital room, let in by bribing a nurse.
"Sorry it took so long to go get the cake; the nurses had it in their staff room," Yuzuriha says, placing the cake on the table beside the bed.
"It's been a year huh?" She says quietly, the room was quiet, besides the machines keeping [Name] alive; the doctors had officially declared her brain dead a couple of days ago due to her situation never improving. It was hard on everyone when the doctors suggested preparing for the worst, taking [Name] off life support.
Of course, her father had immediately shot the idea down, saying he was paying good money for the doctors to find what caused this whole thing when she was fine; she should've been fine.
"She's going to wake up, kids." Byakuya says, trying to lighten the mood, "It might take a couple more weeks or months, but I have a feeling no one in this room is going to give up on her."
Yuzuriha wipes her eyes, pumping her fist. "Right! [Name] is going to come back, I know it."
"Yeah! Or else Senku is going to become a widow and be sad all his life!" Taiju says, copying Yuzuriha's enthusiasm.
Byakuya laughs at this, wrapping his arm around Senku's neck, "That's right, kids; my future daughter-in-law is going to wake up and marry our dear Senku!"
Yuzuriha and Taiju agreed at this; Senku stared down at the peaceful face of [Name], one of his hands holding onto her limp hand.
His expression was unreadable, eyes gazing down at his girlfriend with such tenderness but a hint of sadness. He wouldn't say his feelings out loud, but everyone could tell from his silence.
After Taiju and Yuzuriha had left a couple hours later, Byakuya was cleaning up the room when Senku spoke up.
"Take Little [Name] with you to space," Senku says, surprising Byakuya, but the look on Senku's face made it hard for him to say no to his son's wish.
"Let [Name]'s android go to space with you."
Byakuya only sighed and smiled at him, "All right."
.
Swnku sat beside the hospital bed, his hands rubbing the back of [Name]'s hand gently, in his hand, his phone, watching the live stream of Byakuya getting ready to enter the spaceship to take him and the other two people to space.
"Looks like the old man is finally going to space, [Name]." He spoke to the [H/C] haired girl.
The live broadcast is Byakuya taking the microphone from the woman reporter, who looks flustered upon seeing him.
"Senku! I know you're not the type to watch a broadcast like this but...I swear I'll bring back a ton of scientific souvenirs for you and bring Little [Name] safe and sound!" Byakuya says, grinning at the camera while Sebku lets out a laugh at this.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up already." He says, smiling slightly at the screen of his phone.
"You hear that, [Name]? Your creation is going to be back soon, and so is the old man; he's been pretty lonely without, too, so wake up already." He gently flickers the girl's forehead before sighing, burying his face in his arms on the bed.
"....just wake up already," Senku mumbles to himself. "..or give me a sign that you're not really brain dead."
Silence was his only answer and has been for the last year.
3 days later, all of humanity was turned to stone by a mysterious green light.
taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @awwwia @foulbreadpaenut @verysanebsdfan @the-wild-tomato @copycat-namjesus @arimakanav @cchuisme
#thelonestarinthesky#senku x reader#dr stone senku#dr stone#dr stone x reader#ishigami senku#senku#senku x y/n#x reader#drst x reader#2/2 i.senku series
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"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐍𝐀, 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲"
you had spent ten months avoiding ex bf! sae itoshi, ignoring his name on sports headlines and skipping press conferences where he might be. but now, as you stood on the sidelines of the biggest match of the year, there was no avoiding him. especially not after that goal.
it had been a perfect strike, the kind that would be replayed for years. ex bf! sae itoshi ran a hand through his hair in celebration, sweat-slicked under the stadium lights. he was swarmed by teammates, but his eyes cut through the chaos.
and found you.
sports journalist! reader, one of the best in the industry, but if we’re speaking more than that, the love of his life that he regrets ever letting go of.
ten months ago, he was at a turning point in his career, as one of the biggest football clubs in the world, re al (real madrid), wanted to sign him. the deal meant leaving the country, a brutal training schedule, and an insane media spotlight.
he knew what that kind of pressure could do to a relationship. he’d seen it with other players – long-distance, constant scrutiny, fights over missed calls, and conflicting schedules. you had just landed your dream job in sports journalism. he didn’t want you to dim your own success just to chase him around the world.
so, in the only way he knew how, he let you go.
he told himself it was for your sake, that you deserved stability, not a boyfriend who was constantly on planes or stuck in training camps. he didn’t give you a choice. he ended it before the two of you had the chance to fall apart.
and he never told you the real reason.
for you, it came out of nowhere.
one minute, you were planning a future together. the next, he was pulling away, telling you “it just wouldn’t work.” that he didn’t “have time for a relationship.” that you’d both be “better off this way.”
you didn’t beg. you didn’t chase.
you walked away with your dignity intact, but you won’t lie, it wrecked you. because you never stopped loving him. and the worst part? you had to keep covering his career. watching from the sidelines as he became a global superstar.
now in the present, he casually stood in front of you, looking like sin itself. “didn’t think you’d show up,” he drawled. his voice was as lazy as ever, like he hadn’t just scored the most jaw-dropping goal in club football.
you level him with a look, gripping the notebook in your hand a little tighter. “i’m working, itoshi. try to act like this isn’t personal.”
his lips curled at the edges, the smirk so familiar it made your chest ache. he would always do that when he tried not to laugh, especially when you called him by his last name. “it’s not personal? you sure about that?”
gosh, he was impossible. effortlessly cocky. stupidly attractive.
you exhale sharply. “how does it feel, scoring the winning goal in the biggest match of your career?”
ex bf! sae itoshi tips his head, like he actually had to think about it. “mmm. feels good, i guess.”
you nearly scoff. “you guess?”
“yeah.” he looked straight at you, voice maddeningly casual. “would’ve felt better if you were waiting for me at the end of it.”
your stomach flips.
you tried your best to keep your expression neutral, but him? he saw right through you. he always did.
“that’s not my job anymore,” you say, proud of how steady your voice remained. “you don’t get to say things like that anymore.”
ex bf! sae itoshi just hummed, unconcerned. “yeah?”
“you left, sae.”
his expression darkens. “and you let me.”
silence.
the past wrapped around the two of you, thick and suffocating. your love had always been like this: high risk, high reward. but in the end, no one had won.
“say the word,” he murmured, voice rough. “and i’ll fix it.”
your pulse hammered. “it’s not that simple.”
his fingers brush your wrist, the lightest touch, but it sent a wildfire through your veins.
“it is,” he said, his voice low, steady. “i still want you. and i don’t think you’ve stopped wanting me either.”
damn him. damn how right he was. it wasn’t fair. the way he could stand there, completely at ease, while you felt like your entire world was tilting.
the crowd cheered, the cameras rolled, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. and all you could see was the way your ex-boyfriend looked at you… like this game wasn’t over.
like he was ready for extra time.
“why do you look like you wanna kiss me right now?”
your jaw clenched. “you’re delusional.”
his grin deepened, all lazy arrogance. “nah. just good at reading the game.”
you should have walked away. you should have kept this professional. but instead, you made the mistake of looking at his lips.
ex bf! sae itoshi saw. and like the menace he was, he leaned in slightly, voice dropping low. “still the same, aren’t we, princesa?” his fingers ghosted near your wrist, not touching, but close enough that you felt the heat of him. “still pretending we don’t want this.”
your heart slammed against your ribs and you swallowed. “what do you want, sae?”
his voice softened, just barely. “you.”
simple. unbothered. like he had all the time in the world. like he already knew he had you.
and the worst part?
he was right.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
a/n: yes, the title was based off of a lyric from “fallen star” by the neighbourhood gosh i LOVE that song
#sae can kidnap me and run me over like a truck#sae could look at me in disgust and i'd still be happy bc he acknowledged my existence#i love sae#sae supremacy#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#ah yes exes to lovers#my favorite trope#exes to lovers
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In Limbo
simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist
Chapter Twenty-One: hyacinth; purple
tw: none
Simon’s knuckles split on the first punch, but he can’t stop now that he’s started.
Shockwaves ripple through his arms until he feels the dull, thrumming ache in his shoulderblades, and even then he persists. Right hook. Then left. A wide swing with his elbow. Each time his body makes contact, he wishes his target was something tangible. Something that would scream and groan and choke on its own spit and blood as they fought—as Simon sought penance. Instead, the sand-filled cloth does nothing but sigh as the chain connecting it to the ceiling creaks beneath the weight.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been at it. Time seems to warp differently in Terminus’ basement. Price always keeps a fair amount of workout equipment for anyone to use as they wish, yet it’s not properly kept—the walls are full of chipped paint and the ceiling dips as if it holds the weight of the world. As soon as Simon got off work, he hunkered down to lift weights with subpar rock music blasting through the ancient speakers, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
The anger doesn’t quell. The yearning for ichor refuses to quiet. Each time Simon’s fist meets the punching bag before him, all he can think about is how he’d much rather put it through the cinderblock walls, or through a pair of sickly green eyes. Green like an infection. Green like radiation.
Green like rot.
He thinks that if he can punch a hole through the universe, he can distort time. He can walk into Tsar Trading before you had ever sat in that wretched chair—before Marco ever laid a finger on you—and water the earth with one more unmourned degenerate. But he can’t. Now, he’s stuck with the mental image of your fear; of you looking up at a man who smiles with unabashed perversion as he does what he wants with you. If he closes his eyes he can still feel you trembling against him. He can still feel the hot tears on his chest. He can still hear your voice cracking.
I was worried that if you ever knew what Marco did to me t-that you wouldn’t like me anymore because you’d think I’m gross…
Something peels. It shrivels like the eye-patterned bark of an aspen tree, withered and crumbling. Simon pauses, chest heaving with each panting breath that he sucks in as he looks at the state of his fists. Briney sweat dribbles into his eyes, burning the scleras. Squinting through the sting, he sees the way the skin of his knuckles parts like dried riverbeds at the sweltering apex of summer. Blood weeps from the wounds. His skin puckers as it slides along his wrist.
He craved ichor so terribly and yet the only taste he’s gotten has been his own.
Huffing, Simon finally forces himself away from the punching bag. Stiff knees give out as he sits in a chair that creaks beneath his weight and he allows the stillness of the weight room to wash over him as he stares at the floor. Florid liquid seeps into the navy of his jeans, darkening the fabric, but he can’t get himself to care about the stain.
Simon has never felt so useless in his entire life. Looking after you was supposed to be simple. Keeping you safe was supposed to be easy. It’s all he knows how to do—fight. Protect. Yet, his job was ruined years before it was ever bequeathed to him—how can he kill a ghost? How can he kill a memory that lingers like nicotine in the fine strands of hair?
Quick feet tap down the wooden stairs, and the dull thumps cut through the music loud enough for Simon to quirk his ears. Rubbing at his nose, he wipes his knuckles off on his jeans, smearing the blood along his thighs until there’s nothing put a pink stain on the back of his hand. Staring at the door, he awaits for it to swing open.
Expecting Johnny, Simon’s rather surprised to catch sight of Kyle.
He enters the room with his phone in hand. The screen illuminates his face as he scrolls with pinched brows and tight lips. He’s come prepared—donning a light cotton t-shirt and joggers, the bag slung over his shoulder makes him appear as if he’s been plucked out of a men’s sportswear magazine. The growling rock music eventually snags his attention, and Kyle’s eyes break away from his phone with a hum.
“Oh. Morning, Riley,” he greets stiffly.
Not having looked at his phone or a clock in hours, Simon decides to take his word for it. “Morning.”
Pausing, Kyle allows his eyes to sweep over Simon. He does it cordially. Someone who didn’t know any better would have missed it, but not him. Blood on jeans, dark circles beneath even darker eyes, sweat soaked shirt—Kyle sees it all.
“Late night?” he inquires carefully as he treads further into the room.
“Can’t sleep,” Simon shrugs.
“Yeah, me neither.”
As Kyle dumps his bag onto the floor, Simon sneaks his phone from out of his pocket. There are no new messages from you, which is something he expects. You stopped replying to his texts around one in the morning, hopefully having fallen asleep, and it’s still too early for you to be up yet. Your last correspondence had led him to believe you were feeling better than you were this morning, yet that seed of doubt still roots too deep in his mind for him to pluck it out.
“Wanna talk about it?” Kyle then asks. He’s sitting on the bench press cushioning with his elbows on his knees—relaxed, and in no rush.
Simon nearly scoffs, but he holds himself back in fear of coming off too crass. Canines digging into the insides of his cheeks, he flexes his fingers and tries not to hiss at the sting of raw, stretching skin.
“Reckon this might be above your paygrade, Garrick,” he says with dull humor.
“Yeah,” Kyle replies, eyes flickering to Simon’s hands. “Might be.”
A sepulchral cloud hangs heavy in the air, and Simon finds himself wanting to bark at the dull atmosphere. Though he’s been a good boy for a long time, something within him aches and writhes. It yearns to hear a scream. It revels in its virulent desire—one that he has to shove back in his ribcage to keep himself sane.
“How’re things with Lucy?” Simon asks instead.
He nearly laughs at the way Kyle’s lips quirk into a smile at the mere mention of the name. “Good. Yeah, things are really good. She’s a bit excited about getting Valentine’s day off work this year. Don’t think she’s had it off the last two, three years or so. We’ve got a big date night planned.”
“Yeah?” Simon teases. “Gonna be makin’ grandbabies for your dad, then?”
Kyle’s laugh is pitiful. Airy—half-hearted. Still he nods as his head falls, and he raises it just in time to answer. “Yeah, he’d like that.”
“You’ve got plenty of time,” Simon excuses.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t.”
Though most of the bleeding from Simon’s knuckles is stunted, there’s still drops that slip through the cracks. Nodding, he rubs his hands on his jeans once more to get rid of the evidence of his fury. “How’s he doing?”
“About as well as usual,” Kyle says with a shrug. His smile fades like snow in the wind. “He’s back in the ICU.”
“Is it his liver again?” Simon asks with furrowed brows.
“Nah, pneumonia,” he replies flippantly. “He gets it every winter, which is why it’s infuriating that the doctors ignored him for so long, especially given his health has been shit for the last twenty years. Spent most of the night with him, actually. Until Lucy kicked me out, anyway.”
All that frustration that once festered in his chest slowly fades as Simon watches Kyle’s shoulders slump. “She’ll take good care of him.”
“Yeah… yeah, she always does.”
Caught in a caprice, Kyle’s somber attitude switches to something lighter as he leans his hands back against the bench press. His eyes warm as he stares at the floor as if watching a film ticking in the back of his skull.
“She keeps… getting me things. Little gifts. I keep telling her not to, y’know with mum sending me all that hush money and all, I’ve got more than enough disposable income than most. She still does it anyway, and tells me that she loves me too much not to.” Pausing, Kyle shakes his head. “She does so much for me. For my dad, too. I’d give the whole world for her, man.”
Simon’s chuckle comes soft. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Suddenly, Kyle’s eyes dart across the dilapidating room as he grins. “Yeah, reckon you do. Heard you’ve been getting comfy with Chip now, that right?”
“Johnny needs to keep his mouth shut.”
“Nah, I heard that from Mrs. Price, actually.”
Always getting caught in your gravity, Simon’s thoughts wander back to you. He tries to stave off the acrimonious memories of your trembling skin against his in favor of something softer. The skin of your forehead against his lips. Your form curled and burrowed beneath blankets in bed—in his bed. The idea of it has him feeling silly. He’s been here locked up in some basement punching a bag when he could have been holding you all along.
“Yeah,” Simon finally admits. “She’s been stayin’ with me for a couple weeks now.”
“That’s what she mentioned. Said Chip’s apartment had water damage or something of the sort,” Kyle nods. “Reckon the two of you will be married by spring at this rate.”
Scoffing, Simon taps his phone against his thigh before shoving it back into his pocket. “Forgot you’re a comedian.”
Kyle innocently shrugs his shoulders. “All I’m saying is that Lucy and I will be expecting an invite. Summer at the latest.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
Simon spends only a little while longer in the basement with Kyle before he’s cleaning his hands upstairs in the bathroom. The bleeding has stopped, leaving nothing but oval shaped wounds along his first two knuckles. Fluorescent pink paints the peaks with irritated, peeling skin that cries whenever he clenches his fist, but he ignores the pain as he grips his steering wheel and drives through London’s morning rush.
Fatigued muscles begin to contract in his upper back and in the deep tissues of his thighs while he drives, but he ignores the way his body attempts to call him home. (To you. To where you rest curled among his mattress and pillows).
There’s something he needs to do.
The florist is picking at her nails when Simon enters the store. Wiry hair pokes out in haphazard spikes among the bun on her head, and she attempts to use a headband to keep her grey hairs from cowlicking upwards, though its endeavor proves to be futile. The bell ringing on the door catches her attention, and her crows feet deepen when she catches sight of Simon sauntering into the store.
“Good morning. Can I help you find anything?”
Her Brummie accent washes over Simon, and somehow he feels his guard let down just a little. “Just looking.”
And he does—look. His thick fingers brush over silky daisy petals and he prods at tangy scented stems and greenery. Multi-colored cellophane glints in the morning sun with prismatic fractals that paint his fingers every color of the rainbow, though he finds his eyes wandering over to the tan floral paper on his right. It smells like the fresh newspaper his mother would always read with her mid-morning tea every Sunday when he was a child.
“What’s the occasion?” The florist, having nothing better to do, has been tailing behind the large beast that is Simon Riley as he weaves around displays like a thorn in a field of wildflowers. “Valentine’s Day?”
Simon shakes his head. “No. Just… wanna get ‘er flowers.”
“Do you know what kind she likes?” she asks as she fixes her oversized spectacles on her nose.
Again, he shakes his head. “Dunno. She’s never mentioned it before. But she likes foxes, got any of those critters in the back?” he deadpans.
Grinning, the florist holds her finger up as she takes a step back. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”
Simon drives home slower than he ever has before, worried about damaging the precious plants seated in his passenger’s seat. He’s half tempted to buckle them up after he has to slam on the brakes when a student driver merges without bothering to engage their indicator, but he holds himself back and curses beneath his breath instead. The sweet sillage of garden roses and mums fills the interior of his car as if he’s being held hostage by some department store worker begging him to buy an overpriced bottle of perfume. His eyes feel heavy, and somehow his knuckles seem to throb worse now than they did before, but he ignores the feeling as he parks in the garage and heads into the house with his gift.
The only thing harder than picking out the perfect floral arrangement for you is figuring out how to prop the damn thing up when he didn’t buy a vase to go with it. Wrapped in floral paper and ribbon, it won’t stand on its own, but he feels odd just letting it sit on the kitchen counter. Does it look better propped up? No, no that looks worse. Why does it look so pathetic lying down? Should he wake you up and give it to you?
“Si?”
Your groggy voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and Simon finds himself spinning on his heels to face you. Still dressed in your nightclothes, his heart softens at the sight of you. He wants to scoop you up. Drag you to bed and keep you close. Drown in your scent as he lets the thud of your heart against his own lull him to sleep.
“Did you just get home?” you ask as you trot across the kitchen.
“Late night at work,” he excuses. Still clutching the bouquet in his hands, he stiffly holds it out for you. “I got you something.”
Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you allow a soft gasp to escape your lips as you’re fully able to comprehend the item he presents. Gently cupping it in your palms, you breathe in the scent of fresh flowers while you study the floral paper it’s wrapped in—foxes. Tiny foxes sitting proudly with fluffy tails and pointy noses, leaning against one another for support. The pattern dots the paper in a mosaic. Your heart swells—you can’t recall a time when you were gifted flowers for a reason other than bereavement.
Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, eyes beginning to well with tears before you can even make sense of the overwhelming ardor that drowns your heart. “Simon, I… you’re so sweet. Oh, I love them.”
Temporarily placing the bouquet on the counter, you wrap your arms around Simon with a strength that nearly knocks the wind out of him. He smells strongly of tobacco and sweat, and a thick warmth radiates from his body like summertime humidity. Chuckling, he holds you as he rubs his fingers along your spine.
“They’ve got little foxes and everything!” you continue.
“I thought you might like that,” he says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.
After you feel you’ve sufficiently crushed Simon’s ribcage to the best of your ability, you pull away and cup his cheeks in your palms. They’re cold to the touch, still bitter and angry from the algid February weather. Still, you pull him to you, tilting your head so that your noses don’t knock together when you kiss. Hands wandering down to your hips, his fingers press into your skin as he hums, more than content.
When you pull away, you look at him and feel yourself begin to melt in his arms. “Thank you.”
“Anythin’ for you, baby,” he says before placing one more chaste kiss against your lips.
Grinning, you turn your attention back to the flowers. Your fingertips are drawn to the petals. You squeeze them, but not hard enough to bruise—only enough to feel every fiber that attempts to pulse beneath your skin.
It’s in this moment that you realize the full capacity in which your life has changed since Simon snuck his way into your heart. When the world used to end for you—when it would quake beneath your feet, awaking a chasm meant to swallow you whole—it took so long to rebuild. You’d have to slap up every wall of every home you ever lived in just to put yourself back together again. Worst of all, you did it alone.
Yet when the world ended yesterday—when you cut yourself open and allowed Simon to look at all the noisome wounds that have haunted you for ages—it’s now as if it had never happened. You’re still in his arms. You can still kiss his lips. He saw that rot and now it’s as if it hasn’t existed in a long, long time.
“Gettin’ a little tired, sweetheart. Gonna go lay down for a bit,” Simon says, wrapping his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back.
Humming, your lips part to respond to him, but you cut yourself off when you notice the marks on his knuckles. “Simon, your hand,” you gasp.
“It’s nothing,” he assures. “Was boxing at the gym.”
Comforted by his words—and the fact that there is a lack of bruises anywhere else on his body—you let your guard down as the two of you begin to sway. His lassitude seeps into you. Warmth bleeds like the transfer of fond memories, and though you roused yourself from bed not too long ago, you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy.
“Gonna come to bed with me, sweetheart?” Simon hums.
“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.”
You giggle as he begins to drag you back away from the counter, and your heart quivers with effusive desire. Before you turn around to follow Simon to the bedroom, your eyes catch sight of something that forces your chest to tighten. There, on the counter next to your bouquet, lies a long rectangular box. Glistening in red foil, you recognize it to be newly bought toothpaste with the words great cinnamon flavor! stamped across it.
Smiling, you snatch Simon’s hand into your own before following him to bed.
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