#i mean he was a dick but did they have to SHOW HIS!?

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑰𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Snake!Hybrid Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Snakes! Mentions of Blood/Stitches, Fork/Split tongue, Oral(F), Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Biting, Two Dicks (kinda double P), Sorry for any mistakes or Missing warnings!

A/N: My animal knowledge really shows here😂

Series Master List

-🖤

It was rare to see snake hybrids. A lot of them hid in fear of how others treated them. Humans were mean creatures, especially to things they fear. They knew that all too well, so seeing a snake hybrid brought into your adoption center was strange. His scales were flakey, eyes stuck with shed. You could tell whoever had him didn’t treat him well.

No one wanted to be near him most of your colleagues staying away some even squealing. However you weren’t scared, did you like snakes? Not particularly, but you knew he needed help. When you approached him in the little container he was in he hissed. You quickly shushed him picking him up to take him to the sink area. You had run him a small bath, just some water for him to soak in. “I can’t believe you’re touching that thing” someone streaked at your side.

“It deserves the same amount of love and compassion as any others here” you retort looking down at him. You cleaned him up helping the stuck shed off before putting him back with a heating lamp.

“Y/n will you take it home?” Your manager had asked.

“Why don’t you want it here?” You glared.

“Listen, most of us don’t like them. He’s probably not gonna get adopted and we also aren’t equipped to take care of him properly. You at least seem to know what you’re doing.” They rambled.

You looked back down at the snake who was now curled up by your hand. “Fine, I’ll take it home, however.” You said with a small pause. “He’s mine as soon as we leave and I want the next few days off to take care of him and help him settle.” You stated.

“Of course-“ your manager started to say before you interrupted him.

“Paid” you said sternly.

With a sigh knowing he wasn’t gonna win he agreed just wanting that thing out of the building.

You put him in your spare room, getting the necessary stuff for his set up. You watched as he explored smiling to yourself. “Listen, I know you understand me. So whenever if ever you wanna become human. This room is yours. You have free roam where ever. You’ll be safe here, and taken care of” you kept talking.

He laid under the heating lamp listening carefully. If he could laugh he would. He’s heard that before. Knowing damn well his last owner started off with “love” but quickly forgot about him. He never got comfortable enough to turn so what made you think he would here he wondered.

As days went on you grew fonder of him, seeing some of his goofy personality shine through. His scales looked a lot healthier, a beautiful dark shade with glints of goldish color in them. They matched his beautiful piercing gold eyes. He hissed at you a lot however never making any attempt at striking. After shifts at work you’d pick him up out of his tank, laying him on the couch as you watched tv. It was one of these nights that it changed.

You had done your normal taking him out laying him on the couch with a heating pad beside if he got to cold. He stayed there as you cooked dinner only to be startled from his sleep by a crashing sound. He could smell blood in the air his fork tongue flickering at the scent. “Fuck!” He heard you yell from the kitchen with a bit of rustling. He was scared something had happened that someone broke in. In his panic turning ‘human’. He ran into the kitchen only to see you on the floor holding your hand that was gushing blood.

“What the hell happened?” He said making you jump. He looked at you realizing he was ‘human’.

“You turned?” You said almost excitedly.

He couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh “that shouldn’t be the focus right now, you’re literally bleeding” he said before grabbing a clean towel to wrap it around your hand.

You watched him looking over his features. He had a sharp jawline, slim but muscular physique, those gold eyes even prettier. When he started talking your eyes found themselves on his pillowy lips. You could see the small peak of fangs and to your surprise his tongue was split. You were just in awe taking him in not even realizing he was talking to you. Not until he lifted your head with his warm hand. “Hello? Are you listening? You probably need stitches” he said looking at you were furrowed brows.

You only nodded eyes still scanning over him. You grabbed your phone off the counter with your other hand calling your neighbor. He came over taking you to the hospital and you did in deed need stitches.

Your snake hybrid cleaned up the mess. He finished making the dinner you were working on before it happened and sat there. Waiting. Agonizingly waiting. When you came through the door he smiled sighing in relief. “Hey! Thanks for cleaning and- wait you finished dinner?” You said surprised.

“Yeah, how’s the hands?” He said.

“Ah well it’s not bleeding anymore” you said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you cut yourself that deep, what were you doing? Dancing with the knife?” He teased.

“No this was all just a scheme to see if you’d come to my rescue” you teased back making him roll his eyes. “Since I can properly ask you now though, what’s your name?” You asked siting down at the counter.

“Hyunjin.” He said.

“Good now I can stop calling you snakey” you said laughing.

After that moment Hyunjin didn’t turn back for the most part. Sometimes you’d fined him curled up under his heating lamp, other times he’d be curled up on the couch under lots of blankets. Your routine continued coming home, cooking, sitting on the couch with him just watching tv. Now though, he talked back. He got into the habit of curling up against you when you came home. Your body’s heat always feeling so nice to him.

You came home today more exhausted than normal though. A fight braking out between some hybrids at work. You being in the middle of it when it happened. Today honestly wasn’t as normal as you thought. All the hybrids were acting weird around you. A lot more possessive and clingy. When you walked through the door thinking about it more you realized hyunjin hadn’t came out from his tank.

“Hyune, are you ok?” You asked leaning down over the tank. When he didn’t budge you picked him up like normal his skin scales feeling warm. He hissed at you baring his fangs. “Are you mad at me?” You said softly, making him stop. He slithered up your arm before slithering down your leg. He made his way to the bed before turning back to his human like form.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “I’m not mad at you. Ugh” he groaned. “Do you realize you’re ovulating?” He said with a loud groan.

“Am I? Is that why everyone’s been so weird today?” You questioned.

“Probably- god I don’t know how you went to work with all of them. You’re supposed to be mine” he said the end of his sentence trialing off.

“I am yours” you said quickly with out realizing your own words impact.

“Yeah?” He said looking up at you. Those gold eyes had a hint of something in them. “Then let me make you mine.” He said before grabbing your arm pulling you to him.

He didn’t give you anytime to protest before kissing you, his lips warm softer than you’d imagine. His kiss was hungry tongue quickly making its way into your mouth. His hands came down pulling your bottoms down quickly in one swift motion. He was moving so fast, his motions only driven by need. The need to have you all his, a primal need. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip as he moved down your neck. It was almost like he was a little vampire with those fangs. He kissed down your body, pulling your thighs up to him.

He licked his lips looking at your dripping cunt “she’s calling me” he said with a smirk before diving into your core. His fork tongue feeling way different from anything you’d ever had before. Both the muscles moving on their own as they lapped at your folds. His fingers came up to graze against your slick before pushing them into you. He curled them hitting a sensitive spot. The moan you let out only drove him to keep doing it. To hear it again and again. Your hands found their way to his long soft locks.

“Fuck Hyune” you moaned out.

“Feel good? Gonna cum on my tongue?” He said with a devilish smile.

You nodded making that smile only grow. He picked up his speed fingers finding another even more sensitive spot. With his pace and tongue lapping at your clit your high crashed quickly over you. Walls tightening around his fingers. He licked a long strip up eyes staining into yours. He wanted to keep going, wanted to keep tasting you all over him but he needed to be inside you. Fuck your smell alone was gonna make him nut in his pants.

He stood up pulling down his pants revealing his two curvy cocks. With shock, eyes widen you blurted out “you have two?!”

He couldn’t help but laugh “yeah, you didn’t know? Thought you read up on me” he said. He took your hand wrapping it around the bigger one “this one’s the main one, and th- this one” he stuttered as your hand grazed the smaller one “this one is super sensitive like your clit” he said.

You nodded staring intently at his cocks. He leaned you back pressing his body against your kissing you deeply. He slowly pushed himself into you, the smaller cock rubbing against your clit. He let out a hiss of pleasure before his mind went. He started pounding into you mercilessly. His smacking against yours. The sounds of moans and skin smacking filling the air with the scent of sex. He had his head buried in the crook of your neck his long fangs grazing so gently at it. “I shouldn’t even let you leave smelling this good, all of them got their gross scent on you.” He hissed. “I’m gonna make sure they know you’re taken.”

His thrusts continued fast before he gripped at your legs pressing them against your chest before drilling into you. The new angel letting him hit at your cervix. “Hyunjin!” You screamed hands coming up to touch his chest. He pulled out fully before pushing hard back into you however he felt bigger. You felt more pressure in your core like somehow his cock grew a size. The pornagraphic sound he let out made your eyes snap open looking down you realized why he felt bigger. His smaller cock has slipped in, your cunt sucking both of them so greedily.

“Sh-shit I- I- fuck!” His head rolled back not being able to even speak at the pleasure. The warmth overtaking his smaller cock making it twitch in over stimulation. He snapped his hips back one more time both cocks pushing deep inside of you before you were Cumming. Cumming harder than you have ever before. His body shook at the feeling. Your walls tightening more and more around him. He gripped at your hips harshly digging his nails into you. He cried out as his release finally spilled out painting your walls white.

When you stared to squirm a bit trying to adjust yourself, the movement pushing him deeper into you making him whimper. “D-don’t move” he pleaded. You realized his smaller cock was still hard. You smirked up at him before moving away only to push back on him. He gasped almost like the wind was knocked out of him. His hands tried to stop your movement but one more push back his smaller cock was cumming.

He had the most intense orgasm, his body shook body falling to the side of you. He tried regaining his breath “I’ve- I’ve never- with my smaller” his words coming out choppy but you knew what he meant.

You pushed some of his hair back kissing him softly. “M’sorry for- I should have asked” he said still out of breath.

“It’s ok hyune honestly after today kinda needed it” you said with a smile.

“Gl-glad I could help.” He said nuzzling his head into your neck. His breathing was still heavy as you stroked his back.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[gaywineauntsstuff]

DC comics are so exaggerated to the point that very talented writers cringe writing fanfiction for it

Because what do you mean a human 170pound 5’10 man survived falling from a building by tucking and rolling

Or that same 170 pound man’s best PR being 1000 kilograms

Or like

How did a character break his back and within a year return to business as usual

Or

How does a 10 year old have more general knowledge of the world than most members of the justice league

Like?

I have seen so many phenomenal fanfiction writers struggle with the batfamily because in their mind 2 months of torture is enough to brainwash and mind control them.

Which like yeah….sure

Except that it’s not

Like canonically all of them can shake of torture for longer than that

Or like a near drowning experience or after holding their breath for 3-4 mins

Like that above human capability

But I fear

All of them can go for 7+ mins

The their stats are broken

Or like 2 characters will speak in a language and another character won’t know it.

Dick Grayson has never had a language he previously knew stripped away and they introduce a couple new ones every few years I’m like 80% sure we’re in the mid-20s early 30s for those.

Or

Crowbar sounds are triggering for Jason

Jason wearing a bomb helmet and using a crowbar as a weapon Todd

Character could instantly tell something was wrong with the other

…every member of the batfamily at any given moment

“I am numb I feel nothing focus on the mission I am numb don’t show anything focus on the mission I am numb I don’t feel anything focus on the mission I am numb I don’t-“

Like I love my angst

But Tim had his WHOLE fucked up Red Robin run and proceeded to go fuck it we ball after

[hannieehaee]

hi can i req ff that “really nice guy to everyone but you” thank youu

them being really nice guy to everyone but you

content: sort of enemies to lovers implied, not angsty at all, implied repressed crush, etc.

wc: 651

a/n: i've never heard this concept before so im assuming its some sort of repressed crush type of thing(?) sorry if i got it wrong</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's petty and stubborn, so this game could last forever to him. he'd want to be very obvious in his niceness towards other people in front of you whilst just completely disrespecting your existence. it'd give him satisfaction when he'd see you fume at him. maybe it was something he needed to externalize to understand why it pleased him so much.

jeonghan -

god you're the biggest target to his pranks and teasing. wont leave you alone ever. he just finds so much entertainment out of making you miserable. unlike with other people where he'll prank them half the time and be a caring angel the other half, you just get a demon out of him 24/7.

joshua -

he's a cocky bastard in your presence. he's the perfect gentleman to everyone else but you never really get to see that side of him. what's worse is that he'll only ever smile at you when he know's he's getting under your skin, and it's always a smile of satisfaction.

jun -

he would not have even meant to be mean to you right off the bat but somehow things ended up like this. so now he's just kind of a dick around you whilst being his easygoing self with everyone else. you're mean in return so it kind of works out.

soonyoung -

he'd slip up sometimes, lost in staring at you in the midst of what was supposed to be some weirdly mean interaction between you. you'd probably know that he liked you beneath all the rudeness, but it'd be fun to play around with him.

wonwoo -

he'd drive you insane with how soft and sweet he is with everyone other than you. you'd feel dejected at first, but at some point you'd treat him exactly the same. this would either lead to sone amazing slowburn between you or someone being killed off the friend group. no in between.

jihoon -

it'd be easy for him to be perceived as mean by you. he didn't even have to try, he was just a little dismissive by nature anyways. he'd never actually be too outwardly mean, but he'd be able to get away with it the most.

seokmin -

it'd be obvious to everyone that he didn't mean it. he could never be mean a day of his life. he'd try very hard to make it seem like he didn't like you, but he'd snap out of it sooner or later, making amends and treating you as nicely as he did everyone else.

mingyu -

he'd be cocky as hell around you, giving you snide remarks left and right. he just loved when you'd fight back, insulting him twice as hard and even attempting to go after his gigantic physique.

minghao -

it'd bug you how obvious he'd make it. he'd give you a dirty look one second and the next he'd be hugging someone as he greeted them. it'd piss you off, but the mere reaction from you would just get him to amp it up even more.

seungkwan -

when you realized this special mean treatment was reserved for you only, a war would start between you. it'd become a battle to see who could be meanest to the other. it'd be painfully obvious to everyone else that you liked each other behind all that meanness.

vernon -

he's just so annoyingly indifferent around you, it'd drive you crazy. he's not even mean, he just ignores you .... except when you're not looking. all his friends would know the truth, but he'd keep the act up in front of you.

chan -

would be weirdly standoffish and a show off in front of you just to piss you off. knows all your pet peeves and ticks and takes advantage of that. classic example of trying to get your attention by being rude and basking in it even if its only ever to tell him he's annoying and a loser.

[angelltheninth]

Gentle Prince

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cuddlefucking, aftercare, cockwarming, breeding kink, marks, creampie, caring!Daemon, husband!Daemon

Word count: 0.6k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: It's gonna be nothing but smut these next few days I'm afraid.

His breath is still hot against your ear, his grunts sending more tingles down your spine as his hands finally loosen their hold on your hips. He pulls away, his forehead briefly leaning against yours, "I'm afraid I got a little carried away with you darling. How do you feel?" His eyes are still almost entirely backed out, his lips grazing your own, almost making you want more.

You would take more if you could. "Tired." You breathe out a sigh, "I think we both got carried away. I can't even move. My body feels so heavy. But it's a good kind." Daemon huffs out a lough as he leans down a kisses your cheek.

You feel him shifting on top of you and instinctively wrap your legs around him. The fact that you did it so easily, without him even asking just goes to show how used you are to doing so.

"It's alright sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here. Inside you where I belong." He jolts his hips into you, making you gasp from how overstimulated you are, "Where my cum belongs."

You tighten around him, just thinking about feeling so full for the rest of the night makes your head spin and your body light up from the inside all over again. "Then maybe you should stay put, my prince."

"I plan to. But that doesn't mean my hands or mouth have to be. I have much to make up for. All these bruises and marks on you, someone has to kiss them better. It's my job as your husband to take care of you after all." He leans down and kisses the bite mark on your neck as his hands smooth over your bruised hips, down to massage your tense thighs, "To worship you."

For a few minutes you allow your body to relax, to enjoy the soft kisses and touches. The way he touches you now is so different from before. He was almost feral, rutting into you, telling you how good you look underneath him, full of his cock, how well he did to chose you, how good you are at taking his seed, how pretty you'll look when you're properly breed by him, cum spilling out everywhere between your trembling legs.

He treated you like he wanted to break you in half. And now he's being so gentle, the only evidence of the wild lovemaking being the marks he left, the warm cum filling up your pussy hole and the messy sheets and pillows.

"Darling... hm... you're going to get me hard again if you keep fluttering around me like that. Are you that insatiable?" You can hear the strain, as well as the slight anticipation in Daemon's voice. And if the slight throb of his dick is anything to go by he wouldn't mind going again either.

"Me? I was not the one who fucked the other back into consciousness. Do you have any idea what that feels like? How long was I out for anyways?" Daemon tilts his head a little, his damp hair falling over his forehead before you run your fingers through it.

"Thank you love." He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth and comfort of your touch, "To answer your questions, you were out for a very short time. I barely had the time to get myself hard again. And no, I cannot say I've ever been fucked back into consciousness. Perhaps we should try it sometime, if you think you think you can make me black out that is."

You smirk and run your hands down his back, making him his as you press the pads of your fingers across the scratch marks you made there, "I'm always up for a challenge."

Daemon smiles, not grins but smiles, so soft and bright that one would not think him capable of it just going off rumors of him. You certainly didn't see him capable of such soft gestured when you first met. You've very glad that you decided to stick around to find out about them.

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons , ┓

• →  Featuring . Hiragi Toma as your FUBU  !

☁️┆ �� request by  @anon :3 ༺�� ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

• HIRAGI TOMA as your fubu — headcannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , degrading , pet names , semi-public sex , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I'm in the midst of my exams , and I feel bad for making you wait for too long :( so I decided to work on this !! And I wasn't really sure about the layout, but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hiragi , who always has a mouthful about being punctual— and when you do show up just a few minutes late than your 'scheduled' time, get ready to have your ears ringing from his 'you're late' , 'how many times have we talked about this' – causing you to roll your eyes. He's never really gonna let this go, isn't he? Not atleast without a kiss.

"You're 4 MINUTES late!" Hiragi said, looking at his watch. "Damn, 'm sorry? Kotoha needed help" You said, panting from the running you did to get there as fast as you can. He deadpans, his gaze now lingering at you; eyes softening up ever-so-slightly at your state. Ah, he just realized. He never really cared or asked about the situations or reasons about people being late before giving them a mouthful. But somehow, during the times he's spent with you— he finds himself being more understanding. "You really-" he says, slightly pausing. "Just.. try to be more punctual next time." "And—" mwa , you pull away with a subtle smile of victory. Well, too bad now you're getting pulled in for more.

fubu!hiragi , whos health issues suddenly fade away when he's doing it with you. His stomach hurting? That's the least of his worries. He'll just devour a whole pack of gaskun 10's ; but right after he devours you.

"Huh? What're you worried about?" He says with a somewhat offended tone as you asked him if he took his daily dose of medication. You wouldn't want him in pain just for your needs. But who do you think you're talking to? "I'm taking my most effective medicine over here." He added, teething on your nipples.

fubu!hiragi , who can and WILL use you as a stress reliever. He'll complain about how those 'little rascals' won't listen to him, he'll complain about Umemiya being a pain in the ass, he'll complain about this, about that; his pace growing rough with every complain he cusses out— with you only spitting out moans in response, you can't even understand half of what he's saying. But who cares?

"S' fucking annoying." He said, his hips slightly moving up an angle that hits just the right spot. "F-Fuck! Hiragi-" You moan out, saliva dripping down your bruised lips. "Can't even begin about that little brat Sakura is. " — he pulls out mid sentence , then going all in with a rough thrust. Those small attempts of your protests mean nothing; not when you're both feeling this good.

fubu!hiragi , who says that you'll need 'extra training' as punishment because you kept getting late during his time. Not on purpose obviously, I mean– who would want to get punished by someone like him?

"Hah.. look at you, you're getting turned on by this, aren't you?" He mocked , roughly pounding you against one of furins graffitied walls. "So desperate for my dick that much? You wanna get punished that badly, huh?" Hiragi added , pressing his index finger against your clit. "Answer my question" You nod furiously as your head lies against the cold concrete. "Need to be punished. S'badly please.."

fubu!hiragi , who has girth— 8 inches long , 8.57 when hard . 4.21 inches wide, cleanly shaved , circumcised , and has a real veiny cock; going over from his balls to his tip, and when you flatten your tongue against it– he just cums. But no way he's ever gonna admit that.

"Fuck." He muttered out, biting his lips unconsciously as he tried to silent his groans out. Can't have people knowing that one of furins strongest kings get humbled over something like this.

fubu!hiragi , who just gets so turned on when he sees you gagging on his cock. He just might go off with the state you're on.

"Shit, you feel so good" He says, his hands roughly tugging on your hair– gagging you as he went off with his bitter load. He better remind himself to throat fuck you every now and then; he thought to himself

fubu!hiragi , whos eyes widened when he got caught making out with you by Umemiya. Quickly blabbering a bunch of unreasonable excuses, but of course Umemiya wasn't hearing any of it.

Well, this leads him to blame you. Because why the hell would you press on to him that nobody would go there when it's literally where most of the higher ranks go. THE ROOFTOP. You better get ready, because he's mad.

"Is this what you want, huh?" He said, roughly pounding at you with a fast pace. "You want to get fucked hard?" — he added before giving you a mark on your neck. "Think it's so funny that I got embarrassed?" Well, goodluck with that.

sincerely , raven ! requested by— anon :3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Isekai Reader, currently floating in mid-air: this is fine this is normal...

Isekai Reader: FUCKIN GET ME DOWN!!!*flapping their arms and just trying to get down*

Dick: just calm down maybe you might float down

Isekai Reader: I TRIED EARLIER!

Dick: you really need to be calm

Isekai Reader: FUCK YOU GRAYSON!

......

Duke: how did that happen?

Isekai Reader, stops struggling a while ago and just float mindlessly: my best bet is that after mama wayne possessed me*shivers remembering what happened the week before* is that I gained a but of ghostly powers look I can phase through the chandelier if I want to

Duke: would kryptonite work on you?

Isekai reader: I'm not kryptonian

Isekai reader: wanna find out?

Duke: sure lemme go grab it

Isekai reader: m'kay

....

Alfred: why thank you for cleaning the ceiling and the chandelier

Isekai Reader: no problemo does that mean I get the last snack you made *hopeful*

Alfred: go right ahead

Isekai reader: YAY!!

....

Bruce sipping coffee as he looks at the picture he took with his parents, reader cropped out(you know what I mean): mom.. dad.. *ignores his eldest son running away from reader*

Dick, runs away with the said snack reader wants: ITS JUST ONE SNACK! THE HELL

Isekai Reader, zooming through the air: I DID WHAT ALFRED TOLD ME TO AND THAT SHIT IS MY REWARD GET BACK HERE GRAYSON!

Isekai! Reader/ you: *floating* coming here was already weird enough, but having ghost powers is another thing.

Dick: what’s your hero name?

Isekai! Reader/ you: *smirks* Danny Phantom *waits for applause*

Duke:…is that another one of your references or?

Isekai! Reader/ you: *pouts as you being to phase through the ceiling into Jason’s room* boo, you’re both boring I’m going to hit on your hot brother.

Dick: DO NOT HIT ON JASON!

Duke: you’re even starting to sound like Bruce.

Dick; aww man. *pouts* but seriously who’s Danny phantom?

Duke: *shrugs*

…

Jason: I can feel you staring at me babe.

Isekai! Reader/you: no you can’t.

Jason; just because you’ve got powers doesn’t mean I can feel that stare that you always give me.

Isekai! Reader/ you: …you knew?

Jason: you don’t exactly make it subtly to be honest.

Isekai! Reader/you: …*phases through the floor*

…

Isekai! Reader/ you: *to dick and duke* HE FUCKING KNOWS!

Dick: you don’t exactly make it subtle.

Duke: I mean you stare at his back, thighs, biceps, chest and his face so intently I got concerned for your health.

Isekai!reader/ you:…he’s really pretty!

Dick: am I pretty *batts his eye lashes*

Isekai! Reader/ you: …I guess…

Dick: WHY DID IT TAKE YOU SO LONG TO AWNSER!?

…

Martha: do we think we did something wrong with possessing them?

Thomas: no, what makes you think that my love?

Martha: *points at Isekai! Reader/ you -now having learnt how to fly and go invisible- go after Dick, Tim, Jason and Stephanie for reasons unknown*

Dick: WHAT THE FUCK

Jason: WERE SORRY FOR SPOILING THE SHOW!

Tim: IT WAS ALL DICK’s IDEA!

Dick: WHAT THE FUCK TIM

Tim: IT’s TRUE!

Stephanie: MY PHONE ISNT WORKING! *it’s screen glitches as the words ‘you spoiled it for me’ are scrawled across it*

[gothamite-rambler]

It's been 8 years since the headphone jack was removed from the iphone

Damian texted quickly to Carrie on his iPhone 16 and then opened Apple Music to look for a song to play she told him to listen to, but when he couldn't find his airpods he sighed.

Damian (bothered): God damn, I lost my dongle and now I have no earbuds.

Tim chuckled, wiping his nose.

Tim: Why do you insist on calling it a dongle?

Damian: It's one of the names, and it's a funny word. I get tired of the wireless earbuds sometimes, though. I hope someday the new iPhone re-adds that hole at the bottom.

Tim: Hole?

Damian (sincere): Yeah, the place to plug in the jack for old-school headphones. I’d rather have that than charge my wireless ones.

Barbara (looking up from her laptop): I'm sorry… old-school headphones?

Dick: And do you mean the headphone jack? There are phones that still have that.

Damian (intrigued): Are they Apple phones? The older models have them, but they're basically obsolete. They removed it ages ago.

Barbara (frustration in her voice): They removed the headphone jack from the iPhone in 2016.

Damian: Oh wow, that's almost a decade, like eight years ago—

Dick spit out his drink, shocked, and covered his mouth as he coughed. Barbara could only muster a whimper at how much time had passed since the last iPhone had a headphone jack.

Tim (amused): Damian, I agree with you. I use Android myself, but they decided to remove the jack from those phones too. Samsung took it out six years ago.

Dick (shocked): SIX!

Damian: I know, right? Time flies. I'm more of an Apple user, but those folding phones are quite an impressive technical feat. Did they have those back in the day?

Damian and Tim jolted as Dick fell to the ground, covering his face in shock.

Dick: Back in the day?!

Tim (chuckling): Dick, the first flip phone came out in the late '90s.

Barbara (weakly): 19—1996… Okay, but we were born in the '90s! We're not that old!

Dick: Damn right!

Tim (messing with them): That means you didn't have a phone for most of that time! When the first phones came out, you guys had to be in your teens, right?

Damian (surprised then apologetic): Damn! Oh, I'm sorry! Just my teacher was born in the 1900s.

Dick (meekly, still on the floor for comfort): Please stop talking. That doesn’t mean we're old!

Tim (crossing his arms, mischievous): You know, Damian, they didn't have phones when you or I were teenagers. A lot of the stuff we have now didn’t exist back then. No streaming, no fancy laptops, they even had typewriters in schools.

Damian chuckled, bemused by this information.

Damian: I heard they lacked a lot of technology, but what did they do for fun then? I feel like those old black-and-white shows can only entertain you for a short time.

Barbara whimpered, covering her mouth because she did watch a lot of black-and-white shows.

Dick: Okay, we watched color shows back then! I said color shows… oh my God.

Damian (curious): What about music? Could they download it on an… MP3 player?

Tim (enjoying this, shaking his head): Nope! Didn’t exist yet. All they had were CDs and cassette tapes.

Damian: Oh my God, they're that old!

Tim (laughing and covering his mouth): Damn!

Barbara crushed her paper coffee cup in her hand, her left eye twitching as Dick stood to his feet, embarrassed. He rested his hands on the countertop, trying to regain his composure.

Dick (angry, raised voice): I am… not saying my age to you children! I had a phone eventually!

Tim: Not the one he had. You guys grew up Amish, didn't you?

Barbara: I can still punch you in the throat, Tim. Tread lightly.

Dick: I'm not sure about her, but I watched SpongeBob and Rocko's Modern Life.

Damian: Didn't SpongeBob first premiere in 1999? And what's Rocko's Modern Life? An oldies show?

Barbara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head.

Barbara: Nice save, dumbass.

Damian (joining in on the mockery): How did you guys not go insane from boredom? Did you churn butter, go to church, watch the news?

Barbara (slamming her fist on the table): Look, my dad's a cop; I enjoy the news in general!

Damian: I was just curious about the headphone jack, which seems terribly archaic, but this is fascinating I have relics of the past in front of me.

Tim nodded, enjoying picking on their older sibling and friend.

Damian: I have a few more questions for you AARP members. Do you guys reserve early bird seating at restaurants? Do you use anti-aging skincare products, and did you ever use those papers that help with saving money?

Dick: You mean coupons? Oh no, I'm did it again! No, I can't be that old!

Dick sobbed softly.

Barbara (defensively): Sometimes I like an early dinner! Jesus! And if you want the headphone jack back, you can just ask us for one! I carry a lot because I'm cultured!

Barbara pulled out an iPhone Apple Lightning to Headphone Jack Adapter. Damian was thankful at first, but when he saw the Lightning part, he frowned.

Damian: This is for the older iPhones. They use USB-C now.

Barbara: Dick, hold me back.

Dick grabbed Barbara's arm while sitting on the floor again, and she tried to swipe at Damian with her other arm, offended. Tim grabbed Damian's arm and pulled him away while trying not to laugh. Barbara covered her face, groaning.

Barbara: Fuck, we’re old like Bruce now.

Dick (raised voice, defeated): Stop reminding me!

[buds-and-baubles]

(agent grayson 2014-2016 issue #1)

i felt like this panel was a good way to show how reading this made me feel.

before i get to what i feel about how it treated midnighter, i just want to say.. i am so sorry to dick grayson and helena bertinelli for being in this comic series. i'm sorry for the spyral plot. i didn't do it but somebody gotta apologize to those two.

as for midnighter? a very long array of me going like 'he would not fucking say that' which i'll explain below. also i didn't miss the chin spike at all and where is my favorite freak's smile when he fights? they made him grumpy.

it feels like some of the dialogue gets close to understanding how he is, but just tacks on pieces he wouldn't actually say. i'll provide an example that ties into another point of why he wouldn't say a particular word for what he said;

original text bubble: "not bad, boy. i can read the electrical activity inside that pretty head. no superpowers. no meatware. but you found me anyway."

how i would've written what midnighter said: "i can read the electrical activity inside your head. no superpowers, no meatware, but you found me anyway. not bad, kid."

see to me, that sounds more like how midnighter talks. he typically prefaces things with statements.

example from the authority (1999-2002) issue #2 with one of his most famous text bubbles: "i know what moves you're preparing to make. i've fought our fight already, in my head, in a million different ways. i can hit you without you even seeing me."

as for calling his head pretty? no. he wouldn't do that. i'll be repeating this as i read this series but he would not flirt or sexualize dick grayson. he never has done that to others before the new 52 from everything i've read up to (i am finishing the worldstorm arc) because it is strictly against his character. he isn't the sort to do that to another man. you want an example of why i say that?

here's a line paraphrased (because fuck ennis and his homophobia) from midnighter (2006-2008) issue #5 that helps support it: "what it means is that i'm only interested in men. one man in particular."

he's talking about apollo. his husband, his sun god, his other half. he's the only man for him and he's an utter sap about it! everytime he sees him he gives him a compliment. he's so in love it makes me so happy to the point i get nauseous in a good way.

so to all the dick grayson fans who've read agent grayson and hate it for dick's sexualization, i just wanted to let y'all know that midnighter wouldn't be doing that to him. in fact, he'd let him know he doesn't deserve it or have to take it for the sake of the job. body talk by kermit_coded on ao3 (ily friend) approaches it exactly how i would've.

so all in all, he wouldn't flirt with dick or sexualize him in any way, and he'd say less of the goofy lines he said in this. not that he can't be goofy, but it's a more.. violent goofy i guess.

so why would midnighter be there following my idea not tying to the garden or anything? well, midnighter hunting down random shit like people put under surgery to become meta bio-weapons still feels up his alley. considering him and apollo did something similar back in their first ever comic appearance in stormwatch vol 2.

where's apollo then? well, he was following up on a lead about other possible meta bio-weapons on his own and then he and m were gonna go out to dinner with jenny q. to celebrate. sadly, the fates (dick grayson) had him get hit with a laser that shot him away team rocket style. now he's gonna miss dinner with his family.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Murder Bond

This is a crack idea that came to me while I was waiting on a train. 

As always look not for canon for it is not here. 

Jason comes back to life, does his assassin montage, and beats the absolute shit out of Robin before slitting Tim's throat.  Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are desperate to get Jason back into the family, inviting him over for meals (to which he starts coming, free food is free food).

Tim, when Jason was not present, goes “not to be a nudge, but are we ignoring that Jason beat the shit out of me and slit my throat?”

And Bruce, Dick, and Alfred go “Oh Jason didn’t really mean that” and “Jason has done nothing wrong ever” (in the background Tim is muttering “Jason has done so many murders it is actually impressive”)

On one of the occasions, where Tim was not present, Jason goes “Are we just going to ignore that I beat the shit out of Robin and slit his throat” and everyone rushes to assure him they know he didn’t really mean it.  Jason is visibly more than a little exasperated, the adults are not even making sure there are people between him and the Robin he beat the shit out of.

Jason and Tim talk at some point and Jason goes “Look, I’m not going to apologize, because I am not actually sorry right now. In my head I know that the shit I beat you up for wasn’t your responsibility and it was shitty to do, but I am still more than a little fucked up. If it helps I want to want to apologize, but I don’t do hollow sorry’s”

And Tim goes “No that's fair. I know that the Pit Rage means you were not entirely in control of your actions. I won’t be comfortable around you for a long time, because you did beat the shit out of me and slit my throat but I won’t hold a grudge either.”

They are not friends, not really comfortable around each other but they do bond over their combined irritation at the rest of the Bats, who have welcomed Jason back without even asking for a token apology to the teenager Jason beat up. 

With Damian it is a little different. Damian shows up, sees Tim as his primary rival and tries to kill him. Every time  it goes something like this:

Tim: Damian is trying to kill me

Alfred/Bruce/Dick: There is no way Damian would do that!!

Damian: I am trying to kill Tim Drake.

Alfred/Bruce/Dick: Awww, he is so cute. Who could think this is the face of a killer. 

Not one of the adults takes Damian seriously (Mostly they act like he is a small cat that thinks it is a large tiger). In fact the only person in the manor who is taking Damian with the seriousness he feels he deserves is Tim Drake, who treats the attacks on his life like, well, like attacks on his life.

Over time Tim and Damian also bond over the ridiculousness of not treating a deadly assassin like a deadly assassin, child or no. It gets to a point where Damian compliments Tim on his poison resistance  and Tim thanks Damian for stabbing him on the left side instead of the right (Damian: It was a reasonable request) Just hilarious bonding between Jason and Tim or between Damian and Tim that basically boil down to “The adults in our lives are morons who do not take threats to Tim seriously, I know because I am a threat to Tim they are not taking seriously”.

[karmaholik]

“Why are you mad?” Suguru sighs in exasperation. Satoru shoots him an irritated look over his shoulder as he briskly walks away. Suguru jogs to keep, sighing again. This time making a show of it. If Satoru could be dramatic, so could he. Satoru stops and swiftly turns around, vexation etched onto his face. Suguru thinks he looks like an angry kitten. He bites back a laugh at how cute the other boy looks.

“You bit me.” The younger boy blinks, not understanding what Satoru is trying to get through to him. While they were making out, Suguru got a little adventurous. He gave him, uh… What was that word again? Suguru thinks for a minute, mouth twisting in thought. He had read it on some site… Oh! Love-bite. Stupid name, but it severed a purpose.

“Yeah, I know. It was supposed to feel good.” Suguru says with a shrug. Satoru’s eyebrows knit down and he glares. Suguru stops himself from pulling out his phone and taking a picture. It was just too cute. Instead he tries to look as nonchalant as possible.

“It did not /feel/ good, pleasant, nice or any other stupid synonym for that word! It hurt!” Suguru isn’t sure if Satoru is being sensitive, he isn’t really good with pain. Infinity and all. Some people have a pain kink but this was supposed to be more of a nibble of shorts. Maybe he bit down too hard? Or… Wait, maybe be wasn’t supposed to bite at all?

He and Satoru hadn’t done much besides making out and some mindless rutting with their clothes on. Suguru tries to take them to the next and they didn’t even need to have full on sex yet. Suguru is sure he probably isn’t even ready for that himself but if he so much as thinks about sticking his hand down Satoru’s pants the other boy turns bright red and refuses to look at him for the rest of the day.

Suguru gets by with dreams of eating him out and his own hand on his dick. It’s fine, Suguru could wait until Satoru was ready. It doesn’t make it easy though.

Satoru huffs, crossing his arms and turning his glare to the floor. It was supposed to feel good? What the hell was that aimed to mean? He palms the bite on his neck and shivers. It hurt when Suguru’s teeth pierced his skin but… For some reason Satoru wants him to do it again. He would never admit it out loud, it was too embarrassing.

That was kind of problem though. All of this intimate shit embarrassed him. He wanted to go further with Suguru. He’s had SO many dreams about it and he’s sure the real thing would be even better. Making out with Suguru felt amazing. But Suguru tries to go further and every time he freezes up.

Suguru’s arms wrap around Satoru’s waist, pressing up against his back. He kisses the white-haired boy’s ear before resting his chin on Satoru’s shoulder.

Satoru leans against the toned torso behind him, placing his hands on top of Suguru’s. Instantly relaxing into the other boy’s hold. Suguru is always has so much patience with him.

“Well…” He says to get the black-haired boy’s attention. Suguru hums softly next to his ear, not moving from his spot resting on Satoru’s shoulder.

“We could try again?” He mumbles it, face heating up into a bright blush. Suguru hears it loud and clear. He places a loving kiss on Satoru kissing Satoru’s shoulder moving up to place another on the junction between Satoru’s neck and jaw.

He trails kisses to the line of the other boy’s neck until he gets to the sensitive flesh still adorned with his teeth marks. He presses an apology kiss to it before lapping at the broken skin. Satoru squirms but doesn’t try to break out of his hold, small little gasps escape his lips.

It urges Suguru on, latching onto the mark with his mouth and sucks a bruise into Satoru’s pale skin. Satoru can only whine in response.

Suguru forces down a smirk. Screw the biting. If Satoru was going to react like this? Suguru would suck a bruise onto every inch of skin Satoru wants him to.

After Satoru’s newfound love for hickies (also called love bites, Suguru sheepishly admitted he did it wrong the first time), he developed a habit of jumping Suguru at any giving point and demanding one. Suguru is happy to oblige.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Head canon that all the bats are actually pretty decent cooks but only under very specific circumstances.

Bruce: if Alfred is anywhere near, he'll burn water. He can however cook for 15+ people, if he tries for any less he ends up overusing salt/sugar/spices and the food ends up inedible. Whenever Alfred has the day off, he secretly cooks for his kids while pretending he's just reheating Alfred's dishes. Curiously, they all usually find excuses to show up at the manor when Alfred isn't there, even Jason.

Dick: will not cook for himself even if he has to eat raw pasta. However, if one of his siblings is coming over or they ask for a snack he can make mostly healthy food with the most random ingredients that no one else would have put together. It's usually pretty good.

Jason: can't cook with people in his kitchen. He needs space. The exception is Alfred. Tim has taken to hiding in random places in the kitchen to see how long he can stay without Jason kicking him out. His best spot is top of the fridge, almost beaten by the time he hid inside a floating cabinet and it ended up caving to his weight and dropping him on top of the sauce Jason was making (luckily not yet on the stove).

Tim: only cooks when the recipe has precise measurements of each ingredient (mg/ml instead of cups/tbsp). Proceeds to completely ignore his recipe and ends up with a completely different thing, usually opposite of what he was making, still tastes like he had used the recipe for the final thing.

Cass: cooks based on vibes only so most of the time she's the only one who can eat her concoction, mostly using ingredients that require her to dance and contort around the kitchen at the beat of whatever music she's listening to or just whatever. That being said, her food improves drastically if someone's in the kitchen with her, out of her way but watching, cause then she bases her measurements and ingredients in body language and her proportions end up being incredibly accurate.

Steph: can make anything that requires batter and make it be the best thing you've ever tasted. So waffles, crepes, pancakes, some cookies, cake, etc. Anything other than that will end up on fire. Funnily enough, she can also make incredible fillings that have an uncanny resemblance to some of her previous ashen attempts.

Duke: can cook in the dark without making a mess. He's also a pretty decent cook in general but he somehow leaves piles of dirty pans/dishes whenever he's seen cooking, no matter how simple his dish is.

Damian: can only cook with the recipe or someone (Dick specifically but sometimes Alfred) guiding him. His favorite food is the one traditional from the league, specifically the recipes Talia gave him when he went to Gotham. He wants them to be exactly as his mother intended so he won't deviate from the recipe in the slightest. It's special to him. Just as it's special to cook with Richard and getting to learn his favorite foods from before Bruce took him in. He might or might not either write the recipe after each time he cooks with Richard and ask clarifying questions like "what do you mean measure with your heart? How many tablespoons is that? No, I didn't see, you covered my eyes and told me to 'trust the process'"

Bonus: Alfred has the skill of spoiling the food of people he deeply dislikes while making the rest of it completely perfect for everyone else. Even if it's all cooking in the same pot. He's gotten so good at it he doesn't even do it consciously anymore and forgets he's doing it. It still gets the point across though. Interestingly enough, each of the bats partners have gotten shitty food from Alfred at least once (either shovel talk style or because they did something mean to their respective bat or wtv), they can't even say anything cause all the bats will just look at them like they're being crazy because Alfred could never while Alfred smirks at them from the opposite side of the room.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 18

Masterlist

“What the fuck was that?” Jason hissed the second Danny was out of earshot, looking around the table at everyone who’d questioned Danny after his obvious flashback. A few minutes after dessert had arrived Danny excused himself to find the bathroom which Alfred offered to show him too and Jason took the opportunity to thoroughly reprimand his family.

Duke nodded in agreement. “You guys need to chill out. I know we all want answers but cornering and interrogating him isn’t going to get the answers.”

“That was a flashback, right?” Tim looked to Jason for answers which made him feel like shit cause, yeah it was a flashback but why did Tim seem convinced Jason would know much more than they did? He’d never seen Danny like that before.

Bruce had the decency to look abashed. “He’s clearly hiding something, Jaylad-”

“So are we!” Jason hissed venomously. Dick startled at Jason’s tone but he didn’t care. “We all have secrets that’s all this fucking family is! Just because someone else has secrets does not mean you get to know them all! Besides, he doesn’t know ours so he’s not likely to tell us anything of value!”

“Scared.” Cass said, shutting everyone up to look at her. She frowned. “Don’t bring up parents.”

Jason nodded. “Yes- thank you Cass. As a family of people with crazy and traumatic relationships with our parents- do you think we could have a bit more- I don’t know- TACT?” When his family nodded, sheepishly, he sighed. “Let’s hope you didn’t scare off the only friends Demon Brat has outside of Jon.”

A few minutes of uncomfortable silence and glaring later Danny returned and retook his seat.

“I’ve gotta say, your house puts the mansions I’m used to shame.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water. “Like, I cannot wait to rub in the Mansons faces that their house is practically rundown in comparison.”

Bruce smiled back, one of those fake smiles that no one but his family seemed to be able to see through. Jason was pretty sure Danny had seen through it from the start. “You know the Mansons?”

“Yeah, their daughter is one of my closest friends. They hate me.” He tacked the last part on with a mischievous grin that earned a laugh out of Steph and Jason. 

Things weren’t so bad from there. Danny told some story about his best friend’s parents and how they hated him and did their damn best to break him and their daughter up when they’d dated only for her to end up dating their other best friend who her parents hate just as much as him. It was nice and Jason noticed Danny untensing as the story went on and nobody tried to interrogate him again.

Good.

Dick jumped in and started telling his own story- something about Wally probably- while Jason zoned out. Last night he’d gone to the cave to tell B everything Phantom had told him about the GIW, ectoplasm, and the Anti-Ecto-Acts, and, like Jason’d predicted, he was pissed. Most of the family were off doing their own things, on their own cases, out of town, etc. so he, Damian, Bruce, and Babs had spent the night researching.

When Jason finally admitted what Phantom had said about Danny (omitting any information Danny had given Red Hood in confidence), Damian had immediately suggested inviting him and his kids over for dinner to see what they could learn. Jason had protested but Bruce liked the idea, and once Bruce was set on something, nothing would stop him.

So Jason had agreed to come over as well, also omitting the part where he- as Jason- was acquainted with Danny and the boys. Thinking back on their three interactions so far Jason wasn’t sure ‘acquainted’ was a strong enough word for them. He didn’t think they were best friends or anything, but you don’t just call someone sweetheart and flirt as suggestively as Danny had and then call them an acquaintance.

Hopefully.

God, Jason, snap the fuck out of it. He’s GOT a boyfriend.

Then why was he flirting with you?

An uproarious laugh took him by surprise and brought him back to the scene in front of him. Danny was cracking up at something Tim had said, a smug look on Tim’s face confirmed Jason’s guess, and everyone else at the table was laughing along. Jason smiled, watching as Danny wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and admiring how pretty his laugh was and how good he looked in a cardigan and how -

Stop.

Nope. Stop it.

Straightening up, Jason tried to reintegrate into the conversation. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only person who's friends with some crazy theorist who thinks he’s got all the answers!” Danny finally managed to curb his laughter. 

Tim nodded with a smile. “Bernard once told me he thought Lex Luthor was secretly Batman because ‘the butts match’.”

Danny snorted. “Wes works at the Daily Planet and he’s convinced the guy who always writes about Superman- Clark… something- is Superman! Worse- he’s pretty sure Superboy isn’t his son, but his clone!”

The forced laughter around the table was, hopefully, only obvious to the family. Danny didn’t seem to realize the sharp look Bruce gave Cass, then Jason, then Danny, trying to analyze the situation and figure out if he needed to do some kind of damage control. He came to the same conclusion all of them had already come to though and that was- Danny really thought Wes was wrong.

They were saved from the awkward interaction when Santi ran into the room shouting.

“Danny Danny! You have to come see Damian’s cow! And he has a turkey! You’ve gotta come see ‘em! You ever seen a cow in real life before, Danny?” 

Being dragged out of his seat and shooting an apologetic look towards the table, Danny followed Santi out of the room. “You know I’m from the middle of nowhere Illinois, right? I’ve seen cows before…”

Once again out of earshot, Bruce started talking. “I want everything you can find on this Wes who works at the Daily Planet.” Tim nodded, already typing something on his phone. “Jason why don’t you go with them, keep an eye on Danny and the boys.”

“And you’ll be..?” Jason asked accusatorially.

Raising his hands in surrender, Bruce sighed. “We’ll be around, I don’t want to… overwhelm him again.”

“You mean send him into a flashback about his traumatic childhood?” Jason scoffed.

“You never mentioned he had a traumatic childhood.” Bruce pointed out.

Shrugging, Jason stood to escape the conversation. “There’s a lot about Danny I haven’t told you, but I think we can all agree the way he reacted to being asked about his parents and hometown wasn’t the reaction of someone with fond memories.”

He could hear his family trying to excuse themselves from what had happened as he left. At least they hadn’t ALL bombarded him. Duke had been pretty quiet at dinner, Cass obviously hadn’t said much, happier to observe and analyze, and Tim had mostly talked to him about Kon and Bernard.

Danny had seemed rather interested in Tim and his boyfriends which threw him for a loop. Jason would never claim to be a detective. He wasn’t like Bruce and Tim, hell he wasn’t even as good as Damian, Dick, or Steph when it came to detective shit, but he wasn’t a complete idiot! Except Danny’s interest in Tim’s relationship really had confused him. He’d asked how Tim’s boyfriends were, what they did, how they’d all met, how they got together, and while Jason had put together that Danny and Tim somehow already knew each other, he couldn’t figure out what Danny’s fascination with Tim’s boyfriends was.

Catching up to Danny and Santiago didn’t take long. He found them outside, still on their way to the barn where he assumed Miguel and Damian were, and jogged up beside them.

“Hey guys, checkin’ out the barn?”

Santi smiled. “I’m showin’ Danny Batcow!”

“Batcow?” Danny asked, furrowing his brow in a way that made Jason want to hold his face and smooth away his confusion-

“Batcow!” Santi agreed, hurrying inside the barn with Danny in tow.

Damian and Miguel seemed to be deep in conversation, both crouched down and petting Alfred. Santi led Danny and Jason past the boys and towards the cow. Jason hadn’t ever really seen Batcow. He’d heard the story of how they’d gotten her and ended up keeping her and it was often brought up when Damian asked for a new pet or animal of some kind as a way for Bruce to say ‘you already have a cow, what more could you want?’ but he was never actually around the manor this much.

It was an odd feeling.

To know that his family had large parts of their lives he never witnessed because he was rarely around them as civilians. He heard bits and pieces, Dick taught acrobatics, Cass taught ballet, Damian had a cow, Duke got a job, Steph and Tim were going to GU, but he didn’t know the details. Why would he? Why would he care?

 What age group did Dick teach? Had Cass ever taken her ballerinas to a competition? Did they win? How many animals did Damian really have? Why did Duke get a job at the daycare specifically? What classes was Steph taking? What was Tim’s major? 

Why did he care? He’d never cared before.

But looking at Batcow was like looking at a picture of his entire family that he’d been cropped out of. It left a bad taste in his mouth, to realize he was barely part of the family he’d been part of longer than almost anyone. Isn’t that what he’d wanted? To work alone? To distance himself from the bats and be his own person, neither hero nor villain? 

And yet… He’d been spending a bit more time at the manor recently. He’d been less angry and when the anger receded he saw it for what it really was; hurt, loneliness, insecurity. He didn’t like to think too much about it. He was the Red Hood, feared crime lord, murderer, monster- he was the monster in the closet parents warned their kids about. Who cared if he had no one to go home to? Why did it matter if he had to stitch up his own wounds? He was fine with lonely birthdays and even lonelier death days and he didn’t need them to check in on him he was fine-

“Jason?” A cold hand brushed against his jerking him right out of his downward spiral.

“Huh?” He asked, plastering on an unconcerned face.

Squinting, Danny grabbed his wrist. “Come on, Damian says you’ve never met Batcow.” He didn’t let go of Jason’s wrist until they stood right in front of the cows stall. Immediately, Jason missed the cool feeling of Danny’s hand against his skin. “It really does look like the Batman symbol.” Danny confirmed.

“Tt. I didn’t name her Batcow for nothing.” Damian cut in.

Miguel was eyeing Jason in a manner he thought was subtle. It was not. It made his skin itch. Why did Miguel hate him so much again? Something about flirting with his dad?

Leaning closer to Danny until their shoulders were touching, Jason hoped Miguel would stop staring at him like he’d killed his dad- well. He had. But Miguel didn’t know that- actually wait- did they know Hood had killed their dad? Danny told them, right? Was that why Miguel seemed to like him so much?

“You’re doing it again.” Danny muttered only loud enough for him to hear.

Snapping out of it, Jason looked over to see everyone else had left. “Where-”

“Damian mentioned his dog Titus and I convinced the boys to go play with him. You okay?”

Jason nodded. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I- I don’t usually spend this much time around the manor. Brought up some feelings I wasn’t… prepared for.”

Danny nodded in understanding. “I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah?”

Biting his bottom lip, Danny seemed to debate his next words carefully. “A lot of people contacted me after the attack. Some people I… don’t want to talk to anymore.”

Jason let the silence hang over them for a moment. “Your parents?” Danny shook his head, watching Batcow instead of looking at him. “Good.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I know what it’s like to be… reminded of things you don’t want to think about or… of who you used to be.” 

Swallowing, Jason decided to take the plunge. “When I… died…” Danny tensed. “Things changed. I changed. And I can’t stand being reminded of that. That I was… a better person- a better son- before. Sometimes I… I wonder what it’d be like if I’d stayed the optimistic kid I’d been but… death…” He trailed off, feeling himself getting choked up.

“It changes you.” Danny nodded solemnly. “And no one understands. Even the people who don’t care that you’re different, the people who love you, they don't get it.” He whispered.

Jason nodded.

They stood there, looking at Batcow, shoulders pressed against each other but not daring to move closer, silent, for minutes. Jason tried not to think about how Danny having died meant he could probably understand what Jason had gone through- he couldn’t burden Danny with his fucked up feelings on the matter anymore.

But Danny didn’t seem to share those feelings.

Thank god.

“I understand.” He breathed, finally looking away from the cow they’d been staring at for way too long. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but… But I understand. I know what it’s like for everyone to look at you differently, like you’re broken, or volatile, or a time bomb waiting to go off, and I know what it’s like for them to want the person who died back and I know that you’re still that same optimistic kid deep down but it’s also impossible to be him anymore and I know that because I’m the same.”

Jason let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding (he had no idea when it started but he’d been able to hold his breath for a really long time recently and sometimes he wondered if he even needed to breathe) and met Danny’s eyes.

“You’re the same person as before but you’re also not and no one understands because that doesn’t make any sense but it does, Jason.” It was at the moment Danny said his name that he realized how close they were. “And it’s fine if you have complicated feelings about your childhood home or your family or anything else because it IS complicated. You don’t have to apologize to me for spacing out or needing space or not knowing what’s wrong because I do that all too.”

Fuck.

He couldn’t breathe. (He wasn’t sure he needed to) When was the last time someone had said something so… tender to him? When was the last time someone had looked him in the eyes for this long? His family usually looked away when they sensed his feelings getting too big, when they saw a hint of green, when they couldn’t take looking at the scarred remnants of the child they’d loved anymore.

Danny kept staring.

Danny held his gaze.

“I… sorry-” Jason’s voice stopped working. He looked down, unable to stare directly into the sun any longer, his eyes burning. 

Cool hands hesitantly grabbed his and squeezed. “You have nothing to apologize for, Jason.”

“This is dumb.” Jason scoffed, pulling one hand away to swipe the tears off his face before Danny could see them. “It happened so long ago.”

Danny shrugged. “I died nine years ago and it still bothers me.”

Jason’s head whips up so fast he almost headbutts Danny. “That’s- that’s so-”

“Young?” Danny guesses with a sad smile. “Yeah, but it is what it is. Besides, sounds like you were pretty young too.”

“Fifteen.” Jason admits.

“Fourteen.” Danny adds. “But it doesn’t matter if you were fifteen, twenty five, fifty five, that shit stays with you. Whether it was for a few seconds, minutes, or much longer, death holds on. It changes you and no one can understand it if they haven’t been through it too. They just can’t.”

The situation felt ridiculous. Jason and Danny, who’d only met a few times (in his civvies anyways), holding hands in his adoptive dads barn, staring at his little brother's cow, crying about their teenage deaths. It was too much. Jason let out a pitiful laugh. “This is the dumbest place to have this conversation.”

Danny smirked. “Well I think it’s fine, but if you want to continue this conversation sometime over, say, dinner, I’d be more than happy to do that.” Jason stared- was that? Was he asking Jason on a- “I mean, I do think you mentioned getting dinner before and I’d certainly like the chance to get to know you better.”

“Are you-”

“Asking you on a date? Yes.” 

Oh. Holy fuck. Either Danny and Phantom were in some kind of open relationship or he’d read the situation very wrong. Either way he didn’t care. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Yessss!” Someone hissed from the other side of the barn.

Peaking over Danny’s shoulder, Jason spotted Santi crouched behind a stack of hay. Danny also turned around, letting go of Jason’s hands (he tried not to think about how disappointed that made him), and put his hands on his hips (also tried not to think about that or how good his hips would feel in his hands-). “Santi?” Danny said with the patience of a saint.

“Uh… noooo?” Santiago responded.

Danny sighed loudly. “Santi, I thought you were going to play with Damian’s dog?”

The boy, realizing he’d been caught, stepped out shyly. “I was but I- uh, I wanted to see Batcow again?”

“Nice try, kid.” Danny deadpanned. “Come on, let’s go find your brother. I don’t want to leave you alone and I think I’ve been a terrible guest.”

Jason tilted his head. “How so?”

With a smirk, Danny crossed his arms. “Well it was rude to leave mid-interrogation. I’m sure there are many more questions your family would like answered before I leave, wouldn’t you agree?” Then he walked away with Santi, and Jason had only one thought.

Fuck.

He’s in love with that twink.

~~~~~~~

By the time Danny and Jason had made it back inside the house, Danny had calmed down and prepared himself for more insensitive questions. He wasn’t exactly angry about the questioning, he kind of found it hilarious, but he wasn’t sure how to explain the whole ‘dead ghost king who’d been vivisected by his parents’ thing so he just didn’t explain anything.

He and Jason came back to what seemed to be a mario kart tournament that Tim, Dick, Steph, and Duke were all competing in. Cass watched from the sidelines, she’d apparently been banned from playing in the tournaments because she always won. They offered Danny a slot but he was happier to watch than to play.

At that point they’d been there for a couple of hours and he was starting to get tired. Life had been crazy recently and even though you’d think getting some actual sleep recently would mean he wasn’t tired all of the time, it had the opposite effect. Like his body had realized how it was supposed to feel after getting a full night’s rest and had started a revolt in protest of the last two months of power naps.

Santi, Miguel, and Damian had gone to Damian’s room to hang out (although Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that Damian was keeping the boys occupied so that the rest of his family could get Danny alone for questioning) after it had gotten too dark to continue playing with Titus outside.

When the tournament finally wrapped up it was almost nine and Danny decided that was long enough for their first time coming over. He sent a text to Miguel to finish up and meet him in the Foyer in the next ten minutes so they could head home.

“Aww, come on Danny, just one match!” Steph whined.

He chuckled. “I don’t need to be demolished in mario kart tonight, thank you very much.” He was actually fairly certain he’d give most of them a run for their money, but he didn’t want to issue a challenge and get caught up in the game. “Next time.” He said without thinking.

“Ha! You owe me fifty bucks!” Dick shouted at Tim.

Tim grumbled, reaching for his pocket. “Come on man, couldn’t have hated my ridiculous family like a normal person?”

“What just happened?” Danny asked, looking between Jason and Cass. Jason shrugged, Cass gave them a knowing smile, and Danny remained in the dark. “All right, well. It was nice to meet you, Steph, Cass, and nice to re-meet everyone else. Duke- no work next week, seriously- take the week off.” He waved to everyone, following Jason to the foyer.

The boys were already there when he arrived and Damian said something about how they were already on their way downstairs when Miguel received his message. Before they could say their goodbyes, a pair of footsteps was rushing towards them. Tim turned the corner, almost slamming into Danny before stopping himself.

“Where’s the fire, Timbers?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Kon just told me he was on his way with Ma’s pie.”

“I will accept that excuse for the small small price of one piece of pie.” Jason grinned.

“No way! Ma’s pie is like liquid gold- no way I’m giving you any of it!” Tim retorted just as the door opened.

A man, probably about Danny’s age, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses (it was night?) walked in holding what appeared to be a pie. “Hey guys- I brought-” He cut himself off, immediately freezing and dropping the pie. Tim and Jason shouted as the so-called liquid gold crashed into the ground, pie pan shattering and red liquid seeping onto the floor. Must have been cherry. 

That wasn’t what startled Danny. What startled Danny was the way that Kon stared at him, like he was seeing more than what Danny showed on the surface. Like he was peering past the barriers and barbed wire disguised as jokes and seeing something he shouldn’t.

“Sorry!” Kon squeaked, ripping his eyes away from Danny and kneeling to pick up the ruined pie. Danny heard the quiet ‘what the fuck is wrong with his heart’ whispered under Kon’s breath and immediately felt his pulse quicken. Kon froze again and Danny decided to try something. Something he didn’t do often but his body did on its own whenever it felt like it.

Or rather- whenever his body didn’t feel like it. He stopped his heart.

“Oh my god are you okay!?” Kon shot up, grabbing Danny’s shoulders and looking him over.

Pulling away, slightly startled by Kon’s intensity, Danny’s theory was confirmed. Kon had super hearing. He must have been startled by Danny’s slow heartbeat and panicked. Then he realized Danny was fine and tried to cover it up. Danny stopping his heartbeat would scare anyone with super hearing- it had scared him a few times until he’d gotten used to the on and off heartbeat.

“Kon?” Tim asked, placing a firm hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The man nodded slowly, hearing Danny’s heartbeat return. “Uh- yeah, I’m- I’m good. Sorry, I- I’ll clean this all up, just… gonna use the bathroom first.” And then he was gone, faster than Danny thought was completely human but, well, he’d kind of already confirmed Kon was a meta.

The foyer was completely silent at that point, confusion laced through the room and Danny decided the best course of action was to shrug it off. “Well that was strange- Tim, your boyfriend is odd, but seems nice. Sorry about your pie guys.”

“Uh- I’m just- I’m going to check on him. Nice seeing you again, Danny!” Tim rushed off, leaving the destroyed pie behind.

“That was weird as fuck.” Miguel muttered.

“Language.” Danny said. Really, he didn’t care if the boys swore, but maybe not in the fucking Wayne’s manor? “We’ve got to get going, but thank you for inviting us over, Damian, it was nice to see you again.” Turning to Jason he smirked and spoke so no one else could hear him. “I’ll text you, doll.”

His smirk grew wider as Jason’s face grew pink and felt victory settle in his bones. Despite some of the weirdness, it was a really nice night. At least he’d gotten a date with Jason out of all the interrogating.

~~~~~~

“Kon what the fuck was that?” Tim demanded, barging into his bedroom where Kon had chosen to hide out until Danny left.

Kon turned to face Tim slowly. “He- god Tim he’s covered in scars he-” The man ran a hand through his hair and met Tim’s eyes. “He had an autopsy scar like Jason.”

Tim had noticed Danny’s scars before. He had one on his hand the looked like the beginning of a Lichtenberg scar which didn’t make any sense because those were supposed to fade after a few days, he had another on the back of his neck which he seemed to try and hide with hoodies and collared shirts, his fingers on his right hand had varying degrees of scarring like a ring around each one, but he’d obviously never seen more than that.

An autopsy scar was… well it was another clue, somehow. He didn’t know how Danny dying and having an autopsy and coming back to life like Jason had connected to anything else but it had to be why Danny and Phantom- King of Ghosts- had some kind of connection. Was- Was Phantom the ‘friend’ who’d asked Danny to come to Gotham in the first place?

“That’s not all- I mean, that’s why I dropped the pie but- Tim his heart stopped.”

“What?!” Tim hissed, jerking out of his thoughts. “What do you mean-”

“His heartbeat was really slow, it was concerning but then it just- it just STOPPED. Altogether. And then it started again after I’d already freaked out on him.”

What the fuck did that mean? “I have to talk to B- what the fuck, Danny?”

Prev. Next

[rei-ismyname]

Giant-Size Wolverine retcons

Marvel, famously, loves having Wolverine as a cash cow, to the point it has its own entry on TVTropes. This manifests as a LOT of Wolverine #1s being released as well as the clawed-one showing up on deceitful covers and guest starring anywhere they think they can justify it. Less common (but still frequent enough) is Forrest Gumping him into historical events or rewriting events he was there for as a character study cynical profiteering.

Sunfire is still great - 'banal prattle.' You tell em

This is the latter, foregrounding Logan in Giant-Size X-Men to the detriment of almost everyone else. In the original Giant-Size X-Men, Logan sits at the back and says very little. Here he takes charge and uncharacteristically identifies that the new squad lacks synergy and a sense of teamwork. He opens with 'it's your first day as new X-Men, people. I'm going to show you how this works.' Uh, isn't it yours too? Did I miss a meeting?

Poor Kurt. Eddie Munster is just mean

So he starts a fight, telling everyone there's one too many people. Colossus objects for sexist reasons (not objection to killing lol) and Storm puts him in his place. Sunfire and Thunderbird both have little patience for white people or bullshit and Logan catches a fireball...

... and an elbow to the spine. Ororo goes off with electricity and Kurt just doesn't want to die, so he BAMFs behind her and starts choking Storm from behind. Logan turns the tables on Proudstar and drops a one liner about metal conducting electricity. I'm no wizard, but I don't think it interacts well with human flesh, either, especially if they have a metal skeleton. Obviously he takes everyone down and has the biggest dick in the world.

Yeah... about Thunderbird.

Banshee bursts in and reveals Logan is acting against Chuck's wishes. I'm generally in favour of that but I'm not fond of its narrative function at all . He has an open shirt, a toothpick in his mouth, and looks oh so pleased with himself. I'm not some reactionary purist who worships the sacred texts and pushes back against retcons. Quite the opposite, in fact. Additive retcons are fantastic when done well - Magneto being a Holocaust survivor stands as one of the best in fiction.

I don't think that's what this is, or at least it's not successful. In Giant-Size X-Men #1 there's no time for this pissing contest because all the other X-Men need rescuing ASAP. Chuck rounds them up and handles the basics then defers to Cyclops, the field leader of many years. They leave immediately and nobody is getting along. Sunfire leaves then comes back. Scott is all business because he's worried about the folks on Krakoa and there just isn't time. If they respect the chain of command in the field that's good enough. Team building can come later.

What's achieved here besides sidelining everyone to centre edge lord Logan? Not a lot, in fact I'd say it minimises Logan's character arc most of all. He was a grumpy loner who eventually learnt to trust people, came to see the X-Men as family, and committed to the team. Logan knowing half this stuff already and having this degree of social confidence just undermines that, as well as Cyclops' leadership of this ragged band. Not sure what Whedon was thinking tbh.

That wasn't the end of it, though. Interestingly, this is Chris Claremont writing here. Again, I'm not a purist and I'm under no illusion about CC's later X-Men work. He'd worked with these characters for a long time but Giant-Size was Wein & Cockrum, so he's choosing to expand the origin story. Thunderbird is still alive so they're still pretty new here. Anyway, Cyke is running a danger room training session - Storm vs Thunderbird.

After some kinda bizarre ethnic posturing Ororo is pinned.

Unsurprisingly, she starts to wig out due to her claustrophobia. Logan picks it up with his advanced senses and jumps in. Scott owns the mistake and ends the training session.

I find it hard to buy Scott would feel like his authority was undermined here. Logan is being as paternalistic as ever, but Scott blames himself for failures. He doesn't externalise it and he understands he's not leading children anymore. It's Chuck who has difficulty adapting to this specific dynamic. Also, Logan had zero interest in leadership. None. It was Ororo who was a friendly rival to him and ended up succeeding him as leader. He also didn't especially trust or show respect to anyone. Everyone else has problems but the focus and Charles' confidant is Wolverine. That's silly as hell.

Okay, private insecurity and self-doubt, totally Scott's thing. I'm just going to ignore literally everything else that's happening, especially 'damaged goods.' Ugh.

The second story came out in 2005 in Giant-Size X-Men #4. Aside from the Wolverine oversaturation and other weird shit I've pointed out, I feel like there was a concerted effort to bring certain characters closer to their FOX movies counterparts. Chuck started looking like Captain Picard, Scott was Flanderised a bit but moreso deemphasized, and Logan started to look and act more like Hugh Jackman. He joined more teams, regressed in social growth yet became way more important to the X-Men. More important to the very fabric of the Marvel universe.

I get why it happened (capitalism) but I think it was executed poorly in many instances. These are particularly egregious, but Wolverine was and is fucking everywhere - under many different writers. There's always going to be a sense of asynchronicity under those circumstances. I've actually come to really dislike Logan lately. Obviously it's an issue for most long running characters, but his particular regression to the mean every new book bores the shit out of me. He's not growing at all, even when everything around him changes. On Krakoa he was mostly just gruff and stabby, monologuing about hell, beer, time, nature, poison, and being the best he is at what he does. 🙄

He'll usually find someone worse than him to point at and call out with transparency he never applies to himself. Magneto, Scott, Beast, Scott, Chuck, teenage Scott, Sabertooth, Omega Red, Beast, Chuck, and Scott again. Someone please deconstruct this guy! Send him to therapy, break him down to his base components and examine them. Fuck his moping or running naked with wolves or fighting the W-digo - give him a messy boyfriend and force him to get the fuck over Jean Grey.

He can still fight ninjas and mentor troubled teens and sulk about whatever his latest thing is - just have him grow! His books will still sell, people will still cheer when he says bub, and snikt isn't going away. Hire Al Ewing to do it like he did with Loki, Hulk, Magneto, Sunspot, etc. Some of those changes actually stuck and the characters are more popular than ever! Is that too much to hope for? Almost certainly, but one can hope.

Boy I got carried away on that outro, lol.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Okay. breathe. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

FUCKING HOLY FUCKING SHIT I AM NOT JOKING WHEN I SAY THAT I LOVED IT. Like. I ADORED it. Period. And now, Jae, let me tell you what I loved—I’m probably gonna quote your lines and if this turns into an essay, I’m really sorry 🙏😂

Okay. First off. The tone. Immaculate!!!! I love all the time you took to set the stage for MC standing in the rain, pouring, and how it made her feel and how fucking cold it was.

And it was at this point that I felt my heart racing, picking up speed because then it turned a very very soft thriller vibe—the car? Who is it, and why did they turn around? Like that writing was just perfect. Her fears, and then, as soon as she saw who it was 🥰

These three sentences—like, I know they are simple, right? But they are SO IMPACTFUL ✨

Were you happy? No. Relieved? Not even close. Scared? Absolutely.

And then the whole situation in the car! HELLO? “Yes mr. Park” FUCK. That was just so hot, even though she said it kinda timid, and THEN, and THEN the banter—like out of nowhere MC just shows her teeth and I was like YEAH TELL HIM GIRL 🤭

Okay, I have to highlight this section, because when MC screamed at him to shut up waving her hands in the air—that was so fucking hilarious to me I straight up laughed. I was choking on my laughter 🤣

Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Shut up,” you hissed, your voice low but dripping with frustration. Jimin’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in mock disbelief. “Did you just—” “Yes, yes, yes! I just told you to shut uuuupppp!” you yelled, throwing your hands in the air.

And then when he could see her bra. I mean, he was behaving like a gentleman and giving her his jacket. CUTE 🥰 Even though throughout he was behaving a bit like a dick—and when it turned out that he has feelings for her towards the end. EPIC and I were sold right then and there.

Honestly—their whole banter was just amazing! Love their characters!!! 

And when he was taking her home to his place 😂 I was like, is he kidnapping her??? 😂

And more hilarious banter (it was so fucking good!!!!)

And the creme de la creme for me was this epic moment:

His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he opened his mouth to respond— And then you sneezed. Hard. Right into his face.

I was laughing so hard I was wheezing 🤣 And every freaking time she sneezed on him, omfg. I know sneezing isn’t really sexy or anything, and I might be totally weird for finding it somewhat sexual, lol.

Anyway. I just love Jimin—like he sounds kinda cold and rough, but he’s just hiding his love for her. Probably doesn’t want to do too much because they are boss/employee? And you put him in sweatpants??? 😭 Are you trying to kill us? He looks so good and it’s so easy to imagine with your perfect writing!!!

And when he said they were going to bed—my mind was going feral, like please sleep in the same bed, tuck her in, ANYTHING. And I did not expect her to faint, and for him to worry so much, awwww 🥹

And then when he said this:

His gaze softened, and he smiled—a small, almost shy smile, but one that made your chest ache. "Sleep tight, love. We have something important to talk about tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door softly behind him.

LOVE? SLEEP TIGHT LOVE!

What you did to my heart right there. That is peak FLUFF. Mastery. I loved it and I was swooning. My heart was soaring and then he slept on the couch like a truly gentleman 😭

I mean—it was just so freaking fluffy and funny with banter. What’s not to love? And truly, I fucking loved it. It’s a new favorite of mine. You made me laugh, you made me smile and giggle and you warmed my heart with your words and these characters, so thank you so much 🥰

A true masterpiece, and a story that proves you don’t need to have smut to have an amazing story that can move you ✨

I’m sorry for my very long review. I like rambling and talking (if you couldn’t tell that already lol).

⛈️🤒❤️‍🩹😚 + Jimin pretty please

TITLE: Almost Romantic

PAIRING: jimin x reader

GENRE: rom-com, slice of life(?), Slow burn, Drama

WORD COUNT: 6k

TRIGGER WARNING: none (this is the first time i'm writing something with no trigger warning! hehe)

SUMMARY: After an awkward car ride in the rain, you end up at Park Jimin's fancy place, sneezing and fighting off both a cold and your long-time crush on him.

a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

a/n: Hey Anon! First off, let me apologize for taking forever to get back to you. I mean, wow, it took me so long you'd think I was trying to cure world hunger or something. Honestly, I have no idea what I ended up doing, and after all this time, I can only hope it's halfway decent. If you like it, please tell me so I can stop questioning all my life choices. And thank you for sending a Jimin request because OMG, I am dangerously obsessed with this man. Seriously. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Luv ya!

The rain hammered down in relentless sheets, drumming against the tin roof of the bus stop above you. The cold air howled through the deserted street, wrapping itself around you like an unwelcome guest. The flickering streetlight cast a pale, ghostly glow, its harsh light accentuating the emptiness around you. You hugged yourself tightly, your arms gripping your sides as if you could hold yourself together.

You shivered, your breath coming out in quick, visible puffs. The dampness seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin and chilling you to the bone. Drops of water slid down your face, some from the rain, others threatening to spill from your eyes. You blinked them away furiously, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down. Mina had warned you about staying late at the office, but as always, you thought you knew better. Now you stood here, stranded and freezing, your phone a useless piece of metal in your bag.

A gust of wind tore through the street, whipping your hair into your face and dragging the rain sideways. You turned your head away, teeth chattering. The cold felt like it was pressing in, squeezing the air from your lungs. You couldn’t even hear your own shaky breathing over the roar of the storm.

The faint glow of headlights pierced through the rain, growing brighter as the car approached. Your heart surged with a flicker of hope, and you stumbled forward, arm jerking up to wave frantically. “Please,” you whispered, though your voice was swallowed by the storm. “Please stop.”

The car’s tires splashed through a puddle, sending icy water spraying onto your shoes. Its headlights illuminated you for a split second before sweeping past, leaving you in the dark once more. You stood frozen, your arm still raised as you stared after the fading taillights.

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, trying to choke back the lump rising in your throat. Your hand dropped slowly to your side, trembling as you clenched it into a fist. The ache in your chest grew heavier, a suffocating weight that pressed against your ribs. A tear slipped free, quickly hidden by the rain streaking down your face. You swiped at your cheeks angrily.

The wind howled again, and you crumpled onto the cold bench behind you, wrapping your arms around you, tightly. Your nails dug into your damp sleeves as your shoulders began to shake. You couldn’t cry—what good would it do? No one was coming. No one ever did. The darkness pressed in closer, whispering that you were alone, as you rocked yourself gently.

Your heart jolted as you caught sight of the same car stopped just a few feet away. Its brake lights glowed faintly in the rain before it suddenly began reversing. The tires splashed through puddles, the sound sharp against the muffled roar of the storm. Before you could process what was happening, the car screeched to a halt right in front of you.

Were you happy? No.

Relieved? Not even close.

Scared? Absolutely.

Your legs locked in place as you stared at the car, your mind racing. Why would someone stop now after ignoring you the first time? The question sent a shiver down your spine. The pounding rain felt distant compared to the thunderous beating of your heart. Every nerve screamed at you to run, but your feet refused to move. You tried to steady your breathing, silently chanting, Stay calm, stay calm, but your chest tightened like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

The car door opposite you creaked open, the noise slicing through the storm like a warning bell. Your body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing to bolt. But just as quickly, the door slammed shut again. What? Your brows furrowed, and for a fleeting moment, confusion overpowered fear. Is this person okay? Or are they just messing with me?

The passenger window began to lower, gliding down with a soft whoosh. Your breath hitched as a familiar face emerged, half-shrouded in the shadows of the car's interior. Park Jimin. Your boss. Your obnoxiously attractive, arrogant, self-absorbed boss. Relief washed over you like a bucket of icy water, though it was short-lived.

“Get in,” he commanded, his voice low and clipped as he motioned impatiently with his hand. You hesitated, frozen under his sharp gaze, but another gust of wind pushed you forward, your feet dragging against the puddled pavement. The rain soaked you even more as you opened the car door and slid in, trembling from the cold. The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne, but any sense of comfort was destroyed by his sharp voice cutting through the space.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? And why were you walking so damn slow?”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing despite the exhaustion clawing at you. Of course, his first instinct wasn’t to ask if you were okay but to criticize. You forced a tight-lipped smile, your fingers curling into the damp fabric of your skirt.

“Yes, Mr. Park. I’m perfectly fine,” you bit out, the words dripping with sarcasm you tried to mask behind a strained politeness. Your fake smile wavered as you glanced at him, silently debating whether strangling him would be worth losing your ride home.

Jimin scoffed, shaking his head slightly, as though reading your thoughts. His eyes trailed over your face, lingering for a moment before they dropped lower. You noticed the shift in his expression too late. His gaze flicked to your collarbone, then downward. His eyes widened briefly before he snapped his head forward, clearing his throat with a harsh sound.

Confused, you frowned and followed his gaze. Your stomach sank as your eyes landed on the problem. Your white blouse, drenched from the rain, clung to your body like a second skin, and the bright red lace of your bra was clearly visible underneath.

A gasp escaped your lips as your arms flew up instinctively to cover your chest. “Oh my god,” you muttered, turning your body away from him, your face heating despite the cold. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, clutching your arms tightly around yourself.

Jimin rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze entirely. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose as he shrugged off his blazer. Without a word, he leaned over and held it out to you. You snatched it from his hand, your lips twisting into a scowl.

“You could’ve stopped the car near me,” you muttered under your breath, slipping the warm fabric over your shoulders. The faint scent of his cologne clung to it. So... manly.

His head snapped toward you, brows furrowed. “So, it’s my fault now?”

“Duh!” you shot back, pulling the blazer tighter around yourself as if it could shield you from his attitude.

“And what about the fact that you were walking so maddeningly slow? Like you were planning to camp out there all night?”

Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Shut up,” you hissed, your voice low but dripping with frustration.

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in mock disbelief. “Did you just—”

“Yes, yes, yes! I just told you to shut uuuupppp!” you yelled, throwing your hands in the air. Your voice echoed sharply inside the car, silencing him completely. The weight of your outburst hit you like a tidal wave, embarrassment creeping up your neck. You turned your face away, heat flooding your cheeks. Great. Now I look like a lunatic.

He stared at you, stunned, his lips slightly parted as though he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. His wide eyes and slack jaw only made you angrier. You could practically feel his judgment radiating off him, and it made you want to crawl under a rock—or strangle him slowly and thoroughly.

“Stop staring and start the damn car,” you snapped, your voice cracking slightly.

His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he blinked, shaking his head. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he hurriedly looked away, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Fine,” he muttered, starting the engine with a low rumble.

The car began to move, the rain now a blurred sheet outside the windows. Silence settled between you, heavy and awkward, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. You sank back into the seat, pressing your hand to your forehead as a dull ache throbbed at your temples. A cold shiver raced down your spine, and you took a shaky breath, hoping it would settle your nerves.

“How long, Mr. Park?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the fight in you momentarily drained.

“Not far,” he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “My house is just a few blocks away. We’ll be there soon.”

Your heart stopped. You sat up straighter, your hands clutching the blazer tightly. “What the hell do you mean, your house?”

He spared you another glance, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “I’m taking you home,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Whose home?” you nearly screeched, pulling the blazer tighter around you as though it could somehow protect you from this insanity.

“Mine,” he said simply, his eyes darting back to the road.

"Home. Your home," you repeated, your tone sharp as you gestured toward him. "I wanted to go to my home."

Jimin’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking in irritation. “I didn’t know the address,” he said flatly, avoiding your gaze.

“You could’ve just asked!”

“I wanted to, but you yelled at me to shut up.”

“And so your brilliant solution was to bring me here?” you retorted, throwing your hands up in disbelief.

His eyes snapped to yours, narrowing as he pulled the car to a jerky stop. “Excuse me? I live here. What the hell do you mean by here?” he asked, his voice low and offended, his brows drawing together.

You glared at him, your lips curling into a bitter scowl. “Then why have you stopped in the middle of nowhere?”

Jimin’s lips parted, a humourless laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “I think you’ve been out in the rain too long. Maybe some water leaked into your brain because it’s clearly not working. We are not in the middle of nowhere, you deranged woman.”

Before you could retort, he pushed his door open with a sharp motion and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. You stared after him in disbelief, his broad back retreating into the rain. Grumbling under your breath, you wrestled with your seatbelt, finally kicking the door open and following him.

The rain hit you like icy needles, soaking through your clothes as you stumbled out of the car. The moment you stepped onto the pavement, you froze, your jaw slack. In front of you stood a towering, modern building, its glass facade gleaming despite the downpour. “Wow,” you muttered under your breath, momentarily forgetting your anger. But then you caught sight of Jimin’s retreating figure, and you cursed under your breath, hiking up your heels to chase after him.

“Of course, you’d leave me behind,” you muttered as your heels clicked against the wet pavement.

Jimin turned his head slightly, flashing you a grin that made you want to slap it off his face. “Oh, you’re here! I thought you’d decided to spend the night in the car,” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You narrowed your eyes at him, shivering as you wrapped his blazer tighter around yourself. “Do you have a knife at home?” you asked, your tone casual as you both inside the elevator.

He paused mid-step, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Yeah… why?”

“Just so I know where to find one,” you replied, tilting your head innocently. “For when you start talking too much rubbish.”

Jimin turned to face you fully, his brows lifting as his mouth parted in shock. For a brief moment, he looked genuinely alarmed. Then, as you burst into laughter at his expression, he sighed in relief, shaking his head.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You smirked, lifting your chin. “I think I’m adorable.”

His lips twitched into a smirk of his own as he leaned in, his face now dangerously close to yours. You wanted to step back, but the cold glass of the elevator doors pressed against your back, trapping you. His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he opened his mouth to respond—

And then you sneezed.

Hard.

Right into his face.

The moment froze, your eyes widening in horror as he flinched, wiping at his face with his sleeve. “What the actual hell?!” he yelled, his voice a mixture of disbelief and rage. He stepped back, his face scrunching up in disgust as he muttered a string of curses, switching languages with every expletive. English, Japanese, Chinese, and then a barrage of rapid Korean filled the small elevator.

You stared down at your feet, heat crawling up your neck. “Sorry…” you mumbled, barely audible, too mortified to meet his eyes.

He glared at you, his nostrils flaring. “Sorry? Sorry?!” He stepped forward, looking like he had a whole speech prepared—

But the elevator dinged, its doors sliding open.

For the first time that night, you silently thanked every god you could think of as Jimin stomped out, muttering under his breath. You hurried after him, sneezing again as the cold air hit you.

“Sit,” he barked, pointing to the plush couch in his spacious living room. His voice was sharp, but his eyes softened for a moment as they flicked to your shivering form.

You sat without a word, clutching his blazer tightly around you. Jimin disappeared into hallway, still muttering under his breath. As you sneezed again, you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all, even if he was plotting your demise in the next room.

He came back, dressed in a plain sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, his hair sticking up in messy tufts, like he’d been running his hands through it. Barefoot and casual, he should’ve looked harmless, but instead, he looked annoyingly good. His sharp gaze locked on you as he walked closer, his lips pressed into a tight line, like he had something serious to say. Your throat dried up when he stopped right in front of you, the scent of his and something uniquely him filling the air between you. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and just as his lips parted to speak—

You sneezed.

Right on his face.

“Women, seriously?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk as he wiped the back of his hand against his face.

You scowled, tugging his oversized blazer tighter around yourself. “What? I can’t help it!”

“You can’t help anything. The only thing you can help at is being mean and senseless.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, leaning toward him, ready to unleash your fury—but another sneeze erupted before you could get the words out.

“Eww!” he exclaimed, jerking back like you’d just sprayed him with acid.

He pointed toward the hallway, his expression torn between disgust and resignation. “You, come with me. Before you drown my house with your sneezes.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging after him as he led you through the sleek, modern interior of his house.

“I didn’t ask you to bring me here,” you grumbled, your damp hair sticking to your neck. “You could’ve just dropped me off at my place.”

He turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing in exasperation. “Did you see how hard it was raining? You wanted me to take you home and then drive back through that storm? I could’ve gotten stuck—or worse. You should be grateful!”

You glared at his back, muttering under your breath, “Grateful, my ass.”

Jimin stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a spacious, minimalist bedroom. He disappeared into the walk-in closet without a word, emerging moments later with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

“Here,” he said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this.” His voice softened, just for a second, before he added, “Bathroom’s on the right. Don’t take forever.”

You raised a brow as he turned and left without waiting for a response. Rude.

But as you glanced around his room—simple yet elegant with muted tones and clean lines—you couldn’t deny the faint flutter in your chest. It was surreal, standing here, surrounded by the essence of him. Once upon a time, when you’d first started working at the company, you’d harboured the most ridiculous crush on him. Obsessive, even. But you’d gotten over it. Or at least you thought you had.

Quickly peeling off your wet clothes, you slipped into the hoodie and sweatpants. They were far too big, the sleeves swallowing your hands, but they were warm and soft. And they smelled… like him. Clean, woodsy, with the faintest hint of something sharp and intoxicating. You hated how comforting it felt.

Or maybe you didn’t.

When you returned to the living room, he was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest. His eyes flicked to you, scanning you briefly before he gestured toward the coffee table. “Soup,” he said simply.

Your gaze shifted to the large bowl sitting on the table, steam rising from the golden liquid. Your heart softened a fraction as you sat beside him, the warmth of the soup drawing you in. Without a second thought, you grabbed the bowl and scooped up a spoonful.

The second it touched your tongue, the heat seared your mouth, and you yelped, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. Jimin’s eyes widened, as he shot forward. “What the hell?!” he exclaimed, snatching the bowl out of your hands and placing it back on the table.

Before you could respond, he was in front of you, crouching slightly, his face a mixture of panic and concern. leaning closer. He started fanning your mouth with his hand, his brows furrowed as he muttered under his breath. Then, without warning, he leaned in further and blew.

The cool air hit your lips, and your breath hitched. His face was inches from yours now, his dark eyes focused intently on your mouth. You froze, acutely aware of the way his hand hovered just beneath your chin, steadying you. The moment stretched, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. His gaze flicked to yours, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. His lips parted slightly, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Are you blind? C-Can’t you see it’s hot?” he scolded, his voice breaking slightly as he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly on the couch. His eyes darted away from yours, and for a fleeting moment, you caught the faintest hint of colour creeping up his neck.

You nodded, the sting of embarrassment silencing any snarky retort. Any other day, you’d have torn into him for bossing you around, but now? You couldn’t even muster a glare. Instead, you pressed your palms to your cheeks, only to realize they were burning.

What the hell was wrong with you?

Your mind raced as you sat frozen in place. You’re over him. You’re over him, you chanted silently, willing the blush to disappear. But deep down, you knew the truth—your heart was still as stupid as ever.

And then, just as you thought you could gather yourself, you sneezed again.

His head whipped toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. You braced for the scolding that was surely coming, shoulders tensing as you sucked in a breath.

But instead, he shifted closer.

Your breath hitched.

His gaze softened, his brows knitting together with concern as he leaned in. “Are you really sick?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost gentle.

Before you could answer, his hand moved toward your face. You froze as his fingertips brushed your forehead, testing your temperature. His touch was warm—too warm—and your heart thudded violently in your chest.

He frowned, his hand lingering for a moment longer before sliding down to the side of your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw.

That was it. You were doomed.

Your pulse quickened beneath his touch, and you swore he could feel it. His brows furrowed deeper, his expression shifting from mild concern to genuine worry. “You’re turning red,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb moved slightly, tracing an invisible line along your skin. “Do… Do I need to call a doctor?”

The tenderness in his tone almost shattered you. Why did he have to be like this? Why now?

You shook your head quickly, snapping out of your daze and leaning back, desperate to put some distance between you. “No,” you managed to croak, your voice embarrassingly hoarse.

He blinked, his hand falling back to his side as he sat upright. “Oh,” he said, his tone clipped. His shoulders stiffened as if he suddenly realized how close he’d been.

You caught his slight grimace as he scooted away, the small gap between you growing wider.

Your chest tightened, and before you knew it, you were pouting.

His gaze flicked to you, one brow arching in confusion. “What?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

You shook your head quickly, too flustered to explain.

“Seriously, what’s wrong now?” he pressed, his brows drawing together again.

But you just shook your head once more, biting your lip to keep from saying something stupid—like how much you’d missed this, how much you wished he’d never pulled away.

And yet, even as he leaned back into his corner of the couch, his gaze lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. And that tiny, almost imperceptible pause was enough to make your heart ache with hope.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice low and casual as he glanced over at you.

“No,” you said quickly, your tone sharper than intended.

His lips quirked up, clearly not believing you. “You sure? I can cook,” he offered, his brows lifting in that way that made his face unbearably soft, like he was trying to coax the truth out of you.

You shook your head firmly. “I’m sure,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze back to the soup in your hands. You’d already eaten, and you knew he had too.

A comfortable silence fell between you. He leaned back on the couch, his head resting against the cushions, eyes fluttering closed. His chest rose and fell evenly, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked utterly at peace.

And absolutely stunning.

You tried not to stare, but your eyes betrayed you, taking in every detail. The way his jawline looked sharper under the dim light, the soft curve of his lashes resting against his cheeks, and his lips—God, his lips—full and slightly parted, as if he was moments away from whispering something that would undo you.

Your gaze trailed down to his clothes, his sweatshirt slightly rumpled but hugging his shoulders perfectly. His loose, comfy sweatpants sat just right on his hips, and even in such an unassuming outfit, he looked... ethereal.

It wasn’t fair. How could someone look like that just sitting there?

You pulled your eyes away, forcing yourself to look out the glass wall instead. The rain pounded relentlessly against it, streaks of water catching the faint glow of the city lights outside. The storm showed no signs of stopping, and you couldn’t help but regret staying late at the office.

I could’ve finished it all tomorrow, you thought bitterly, tightening your grip on the warm bowl in your hands. Your eyes drifted back to him, unable to help yourself. The question burned at the back of your mind: why had he stayed late? You knew he often worked late, but on busy nights like this, he typically stayed at the office rather than going home. Tonight, though, he’d changed that.

You frowned slightly. What was different this time?

You didn’t know—and couldn’t have known—that the difference was you.

He had seen the storm warning on the news and had sent everyone home early, but you had stayed behind, stubbornly working. He had been about to leave, but seeing you there, so focused, so unaware of the weather worsening, had stopped him in his tracks. Jimin was nothing if not professional, but he had always harboured an unspoken interest in you—a quiet, persistent fondness he never let show.

And now, here you both were.

The silence stretched on, the sound of the rain filling the space between you. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when you finally opened your mouth to speak, the words were out before you could stop them. And you almost regretted it. Almost.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, your eyes widening in surprise at your own words.

Jimin’s eyes flicked open, locking with yours instantly. There was a quiet amusement in his gaze, and his lips tugged up into that soft, teasing smile that made your heart do something you tried to ignore. He didn’t speak right away, just studied you as if he could read everything you weren’t saying.

“No,” he replied, his voice quiet and surprisingly soft. “Why do you ask?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling silly, and looked everywhere but at him—out the window, at your hands, the bowl of soup on the table. Anywhere but him.

He leaned back into the couch, clearly amused, a playful edge to his tone. “Why are you behaving like this?” His smile was still there, small but knowing.

“Like what?” you blurted out, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a bit of a dumb question.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He raised an eyebrow, watching you like you were a puzzle he was determined to figure out.

You stared at him, blinking a few times like he’d just sprouted another head, making his laughter bubble up, soft but genuine.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he teased.

“Because you’re talking weird,” you said, voice a bit sharper than you intended, but your words faltered under his gaze.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and disarming, sending a flutter through your chest. “You’re behaving weird,” he countered.

You let out a frustrated huff and turned away from him, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, hoping the action would somehow shield you from whatever was happening between the two of you.

He chuckled again, and it was like a spark igniting inside you, frustrating and electrifying all at once. You glared at him, but even that seemed pointless when he was looking at you like that—like he could read the thoughts swirling in your head.

The silence that fell was oddly peaceful, but it didn’t sit well with you. You always needed something more. Chaos, noise, anything but stillness. Fidgeting in your seat, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You broke the silence, your voice sounding louder than you intended.

“Mr. Park—”

He cut you off with a soft smile, sitting up slightly. “You can call me Jimin,” he said, the words coming out like an invitation, a subtle challenge in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, hesitant. You glanced away quickly, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you crossed your arms defensively. “Are you sure?”

His gaze didn’t waver, locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel suddenly exposed, vulnerable in a way you couldn’t explain. “Why do you look so unsure?” he asked, his voice gentle but with a teasing edge.

You stiffened, trying to find something—anything—to say. “You were perfectly okay threatening me and cursing at me. What happened now?”

His face twisted into a playful look of disbelief. “When did I—”

You were about to cut him off, but the teasing glint in his eyes silenced you.

“Huh?” His head tilted, and his smile grew, mischievous and daring.

“Okay! But I don’t mean any of it,” you blurted out, the words tumbling over each other as you sat up straighter, hoping it would make you look less flustered.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, his laugh escaping just beneath his words. The playful glint in his eyes only deepened as he relaxed back into the couch, arms spread wide like he was claiming the space between you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel that same pull in your chest, though you tried to ignore it.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, trying to regain some control over yourself. “You really think you’re so charming, don’t you?”

He leaned in slightly, his smile widening, and your stomach fluttered despite your best attempts to stay unaffected.

“I don’t just think... I know.” His voice was full of that confidence that made your heart race, that impossible assurance that had you questioning everything.

You rolled your eyes, but even you knew it was more for show than anything. Your lips wanted to curl up, but you kept them pressed tight, the heat in your cheeks betraying the hard facade you tried to maintain.

“Yeah, right. Your just full of yourself,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected, but the playful tone that slipped into your voice gave you away.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening. “But I’ve got goods to back it up. Just look at how you're blushing.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you immediately shifted in your seat, trying to hide the heat spreading across your face. Your heart was racing now, and you could barely keep your breath steady.

“Am not!” you protested, but it came out weak, a poor defence against the blush that was clearly visible.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, before standing up. “Sure, let’s go.”

Confused, you followed him, your feet moving almost mechanically. You barely registered his words at first, still caught in the strange feeling his teasing had left in your chest. “It’s getting late. We should go to bed.”

Something about the way he said "we" made your stomach twist, or was it flutter? You weren’t sure. All you could hear now was the odd ringing in your ears, a soft buzz that drowned out everything else.

“We?” The word slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, confusion knitting your brows together as you watched him.

He gave you a small, almost reassuring smile as he stepped into his bedroom, holding the door open for you. His eyes never left you as he waited, his gaze warm, not at all like you had imagined it would be.

You stepped in hesitantly, your heart pounding with every step you took closer to him. Your mind was swirling, but you couldn’t place what was happening. You trusted him, you did, but something about this moment felt different—felt new.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull you toward him, his touch grounding you in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

His eyes searched your face with concern, his brows furrowing as his fingers grazed your cheek. “You’re so... pale.”

“Am I?” you whispered, suddenly aware of how unsteady you felt.

He didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. His touch moved from your face to your forehead, gently pressing as though checking for something. His fingers trailed down to your neck, the soft touch sending shivers down your spine.

You felt lightheaded, almost as if his hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your knees wobbled, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurred.

“What happened to you?” His voice was barely a whisper now, a trace of worry creeping in that made your heart thud painfully in your chest.

The softness in his tone made your legs feel even weaker, like they could give out at any moment. Your body trembled slightly under his touch, your mind too foggy to make sense of anything.

Before you could even respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, his strength surprising you. He laid you down gently on the bed, the sudden movement making everything feel even more surreal.

You felt lighter than you ever had, almost weightless, like you could just float away. But your head—your head felt impossibly heavy, as if you couldn’t hold it up anymore. The dizziness washed over you in waves, your senses fading. You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.

You barely registered the way his face hovered above you, worry etched deep in his expression as he watched you. His hand was still on your forehead, his touch warm against your cool skin.

“God, what... hap-happened?” he murmured again, but you couldn’t find the strength to answer. Your vision blurred even further, the world around you spinning uncontrollably. You felt yourself slip away, your body growing heavier.

And then, without warning, everything went black.

You blinked your eyes open, still disoriented, only to find Jimin staring down at you. His face was inches away, concern etched across his features. His hand was gently placed on your arm, and his eyes were wide, scanning your face for any sign of distress. The dim light in the room made the worried expression on his face all the more intense.

"You okay?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he helped you sit up, his hand guiding you gently. He reached for the glass of water from the bedside table, offering it to you with a quiet determination. Without thinking, you drank it in one go, the cool liquid helping to clear the fog in your mind. You nodded weakly, still feeling lightheaded, but trying to reassure him.

"You fainted," he said, his voice unsteady as he watched you closely, his brows furrowed in disbelief. You nodded again, still not fully processing what had just happened.

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, lips parted in a mixture of concern and confusion. His expression was so pure, so real, it made something twist in your chest. You couldn’t help but chuckle, though it was soft, a little breathless.

"I’m fine, Jimin," you reassured him, the words coming out far less convincing than you hoped.

"No, you're not," he said firmly, his voice almost pleading, his tone so filled with worry it made your heart clench. "You fainted. Let’s go to doctor."

"I’m fine," you repeated, though the words felt weak. His eyes never left yours, searching for any sign that you were telling the truth. His hand reached up, rubbing his face in frustration, his worry only growing.

"And I’m worried," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. His gaze softened, and you could see it in his eyes—the deep concern, the care that he couldn’t hide.

You felt a strange warmth spread through your chest, something raw and unspoken. But you also didn’t want him to act like this, not with you. Not now, not after everything.

“Why?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper, and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. It was the question you’d been asking yourself for so long, and now it slipped out before you could stop it. Your heart raced, your chest tightening as you waited for him to answer.

For a moment, he was silent. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, his gaze softening, and you could feel the tension between you grow thicker, thicker still. Then, as if to break the tension, he slowly reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand lingered, resting on your skin, as if he wasn’t ready to pull away.

“Sleep,” he murmured, the word leaving his lips like a tender command. But the last thing you wanted to do was sleep. The night was still young, the rain pouring outside, the sound of it filling the room. The cold breeze from the open window brushed against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.

“I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing to do. You stared at him, confused, unsure why he was saying that. You hadn’t asked him to, hadn’t even thought of it.

“Why?” you asked, your voice cracking just slightly.

“Because you’re sleeping on my bed,” he said, his voice firm but kind, as if it was obvious. He made you lie back down, covering you with the duvet, the soft fabric comforting against your skin. As he stepped back, you couldn’t stop the aching feeling in your chest, that unbearable pull that made your heart beat faster.

He moved toward the door, slow and deliberate, like he didn’t want to leave but had to. Every step he took felt like an eternity, and you wanted to call out to him, tell him to stop. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have the words.

When he reached the door, he paused and turned around to face you. His gaze softened, and he smiled—a small, almost shy smile, but one that made your chest ache. "Sleep tight, love. We have something important to talk about tomorrow." And with that, he closed the door softly behind him.

You lay there in the quiet room, your heart still racing, your mind spinning. You stared at the door, your thoughts scattered, your breath shaky. Did he just…? Did he just call you love?

The word echoed in your head, a faint warmth spreading through your veins. It was too much, and yet, you couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest. The night had shifted, everything had shifted, but you didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope.

And as the rain continued to pour outside, the sound somehow soothing your frayed nerves, you let your eyes flutter shut, your heart still thumping, your thoughts tangled in him.

I don’t know if you liked it or not, but please, leave some feedback. Like, tell me how much you loved it or absolutely hated it. I’m all ears... honestly, I’m mostly just here for the drama either way.

[heartandterror]

Agent Nightingale for @boxohobo's request :)