#i want to belong to her in all honesty

[hxneylavendxr]

this is like my fourth post about this but

[m4rv3l-girl]

Slowly…

Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while, but have yet to explore anything more intimate than making out like teenagers. Maybe things will change when Bucky finally faces his fears.

Warnings: smut. Oral f!recieving. Protected p in v sex. Slight fear of intimacy. Touch starved Bucky?

The hum of the Stark Tower HVAC system was basically white noise.

Bucky Barnes sat sprawled across the couch, one arm looped loosely around Y/N’s shoulders, the other cradling a steaming mug of chamomile tea. Both of them contently sleepy. The windows stretched tall across the living room wall, casting gold-tinged light from the setting sun over the exposed brick and sleek furniture, remnants of Tony’s compulsive over-design.

Y/N, nestled into Bucky’s side with a blanket tugged over both of their legs, sighed softly. Her head was tucked perfectly beneath his chin, like it belonged there. Bucky liked that. He liked that a lot more than he’d ever admit aloud. Especially since Sam would absolutely never let him live it down if he caught wind of Bucky Barnes being the little spoon. Again.

“You know,” Y/N said, voice low and thoughtful, “you’re actually not as terrifying as everyone makes you out to be.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, lifting his mug in mock salute. “Thanks, doll. I’ll make sure to update my LinkedIn.”

She laughed against his chest, the sound vibrating into his sternum and tugging a rare, genuine smile from him. “No, seriously. You’re... sweet. You hold the door open. You bring me coffee just the way I like it. You’re weirdly obsessed with The Great British Bake Off.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Oh, come on. You cried when Rahul won.”

He groaned, tilting his head back against the couch and covering his face with the vibranium hand. “I didn’t cry. I just - had feelings. That’s normal. Rahul is a very talented man.”

“You’re soft.”

“I’m six feet tall and made of war crimes.”

She snorted. “You’re my soft war crime.”

“Jesus Christ.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The kind that only came after months of slow trust-building, of soft confessions over late-night tea, of tentative hand-holding and the quiet awe in Bucky’s eyes when she didn’t flinch away from the cold press of metal fingers. It wasn’t perfect, Bucky still had nights where he woke up gasping, sweat-soaked and angry at ghosts only he could see, but Y/N never left. Never treated him like he was broken or dangerous. Just… human.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed being seen as human until she came along.

“You ever think about…” Y/N began, then paused, fingers tracing idle shapes along his thigh. “Us. Like, going further?”

Bucky blinked, the words taking a second to register through the sleepy haze.

“Further?”

She tilted her head to glance up at him, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Like… more than just kissing on your couch and pretending we don’t both want more.”

Oh.

Bucky’s breath hitched, but not from discomfort. Not exactly. More like the entire world had suddenly gone still and very, very focused.

He’d thought about it. Of course he had. He was a hundred and six years old, not dead.

But there was always a wall. Not one she had built. Y/N had never rushed him, but one he’d carried with him since Hydra carved up his mind like Thanksgiving turkey. Intimacy meant vulnerability. And vulnerability had always gotten him hurt or used.

“I do think about it,” he said finally, voice soft. “All the time, actually.”

Y/N shifted slightly, giving him room to see her expression. She looked open. Patient. Like she wasn’t expecting anything except honesty. That helped. That grounded him.

“But I also think about messing it up,” he admitted. “I think about what if I freeze up? Or what if I have some flashback in the middle of it and ruin everything?”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she said immediately. “You could never ruin this.”

He wanted to believe her. Hell, part of him already did. But old instincts didn’t die easily. He reached for her hand with his metal one, letting their fingers twine together. That felt real. Solid.

“I guess I just need to know you’re okay with taking it slow. That you don’t feel like you’re waiting for me to turn into someone else.”

Y/N’s smile was soft and fierce all at once. “Bucky, I didn’t fall for the Winter Soldier. I fell for the guy who leaves sticky notes on the fridge reminding me to drink water. Who calls Sam ‘bird brain’ like it’s a love language. Who watched all three Lord of the Rings movies with me even though he thought Frodo should’ve just used the eagles.”

“Don’t tell me I was wrong.”

She laughed, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay with slow. I’m okay with whatever pace you want. I’m here because I want you.”

Bucky let out a slow breath, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding bleeding from his shoulders. “Okay,” he murmured. “Then yeah. Maybe we take that step. Sometime soon.”

A beat.

The quiet stretched out like a warm blanket, thick with anticipation. Bucky’s thumb traced the line of her knuckles, and the room felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He knew he could say no. He knew she’d understand. But the way she said it - so gentle, so earnest - he couldn’t find the words to refuse.

“Soon,” she murmured, reading the hesitation in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready. I just - I want you to know that I’m here. That I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

Bucky nodded, his throat tight with emotions he hadn’t let himself feel in so long. It was strange, this feeling of safety, of belonging. It didn’t sit easily with him, but it was growing more familiar with every beat of her heart against his side. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“You make it easier, doll,” he said finally. “You make a lot of things easier.”

Y/N leaned into him, her arm curling around his waist. Her hair smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and mint toothpaste. The scent was comforting, like home.

“I’ll always be here for you, you know that,” she whispered, her breath warm against his neck. “For all the hard parts. And the easy ones too. For the baking shows and the bad jokes and the quiet nights just like this one. I’m all in, Bucky. Whatever it takes to help you feel whole again.”

The weight of her words settled into his chest, nestling in alongside his beating heart. It was a heavy burden, but somehow, with her, it felt lighter.

They watched the light change outside the window, the sky deepening into shades of purple and pink. The sounds of the city grew distant, swallowed up by their shared warmth. Bucky’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she curled into him, her hand coming to rest over his heart.

It was a promise. A silent vow.

He took a sip of his now lukewarm tea and sighed, the warmth of her against him a stark contrast to the cold metal of his arm. It was moments like these that made him feel alive, made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he could have a life beyond the shadows of his past.

“What’s the first thing you’d wanna do?” he asked, turning to look at her. Her eyes searched his, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. But all she’d find was the truth. The reality was that, at present, their sex life was non-existent.

Y/N thought for a moment, her expression softening into a smile. “I don’t mind….what would you want to do..?” She didn’t want to commit to something that he wasn’t comfortable with.

Bucky considered this.

"I just want to be with you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want to hold you, and kiss you, and just… explore. Nothing crazy, just… us. Getting to know each other that way."

Her smile grew, lighting up the room even as the shadows grew longer. "That sounds perfect," she whispered.

The air was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. He could feel the pulse of her heart beneath her palm, and he knew she felt his too, a steady rhythm that grew stronger with every breath they took together.

They sat for a while longer, just watching the day turn to night. Bucky's mind raced with the possibilities of what this could mean for them, but he forced himself to stay present, to enjoy the simplicity of their entwined fingers and the warmth of her body.

Eventually, Y/N sat up, her hand slipping away from his heart to rest on his cheek. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his, looking for any trace of doubt. But all she found was a man who was ready to take the next step.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s go slow. We’ll figure it out together. No pressure, just us getting to know each other more intimately. I’m here, Bucky. We’re in this together, remember?”

Bucky nodded, his pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be this open with someone, to let go of the fear that had become second nature. But with her, it felt possible.

They stood up, and he set the mug of tea down on the side table with a gentle clink. Y/N reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She led him to the bedroom, her movements sure and unhurried.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn just enough to allow the fading light to cast a soft glow over the bed. Bucky felt his heart rate spike as she turned to face him, her gaze never wavering from his own. She stepped closer, her hand sliding up to his chest, then around to his neck.

Her touch was tentative at first, a gentle question. But as Bucky leaned into it, she grew bolder, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her thumb brushing against his lower lip. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and she leaned in to capture his mouth in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise.

Her other hand slid down his side, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the heat between them growing with every second. The kiss deepened, and he felt the first stirrings of something he’d almost forgotten - desire, untainted by fear or duty.

When they broke apart, panting slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. He watched as she lifted it over her head, revealing the soft curves of her body.

He took a deep breath, his metal hand hovering over her bare skin for a moment before he let it rest gently on her waist.

Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for the answer to the unspoken question. Bucky nodded, his decision made.

They moved in unison, Bucky helping her to remove the rest of her clothing, his movements slow and careful, as if handling something fragile and precious. Each piece of clothing that fell away revealed more of her, and with it, a part of her soul that he hadn't seen before. Her trust in him was palpable, a silent demand that he not break her. And he knew, with a sudden fierceness, that he never would.

Her skin was warm under his touch, and she shivered as he traced the outline of her collarbone with his thumb. He felt his own heart racing, a thunderous beat that echoed in his ears.

They lay down on the bed, the mattress giving slightly under their combined weight.

Her eyes never left his, the same gentle expression on her face that had been there since the moment she’d brought it up. He felt the pressure of her hand, the softness of her skin, and the way her breath hitched as he kissed her again, his metal fingers brushing against the softness of her stomach. It was a strange sensation, this mix of cold and warm, of hard and soft, of past and present.

Bucky’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but he pushed them aside, focusing only on the here and now. He didn’t want to think about the past, didn’t want to ruin this moment with the specter of his former life. This was about them, about what they were choosing to build together.

He leaned over her, pressing tender kisses along her neck and collarbone, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. Her skin was like silk, and her scent was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and vanilla that he’d come to associate with home. Her breathy sighs were music to his ears, each one a silent encouragement to explore further.

Her fingers danced over his shoulders, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she guided him closer, urging him to explore. His heart hammered in his chest, a reminder of the life he had reclaimed, the humanity he had fought to keep.

Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were both trying to convey the depth of their feelings without words. Bucky’s hand traveled up her side, feeling the curve of her hip, the softness of her skin, the warmth that emanated from her core. He was acutely aware of every touch, every breath, the way she arched into his mouth when he kissed her just right. It was as if he was mapping out a new territory, one that was uncharted and full of wonder.

The room was filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the rustle of fabric, the quiet sighs that escaped their lips. Y/N’s hand slipped under his shirt, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. He stilled for a moment, waiting, but she didn’t pull away.

Bucky felt something unlock inside of him, a door that had been sealed shut for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. It was a rush of sensation, of need, that made his head spin and his heart race. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding down to the small of her back, pressing her closer.

Y/N’s legs parted, inviting him in, and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never been this intimate with someone who knew all of him, who had seen the darkest corners of his soul and chosen to stay. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He took a moment to breathe, to steady himself. He didn’t want to rush this, didn’t want to scare her away with his intensity. But when he pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, matching the pulse in his veins. She didn’t look scared. She looked hungry.

They moved together in a dance that was both new and familiar, their bodies speaking a language that didn’t require words. He felt the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves, the way she molded against him as if they’d been made for this. It was a revelation, a reminder that he was more than the sum of his parts.

Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of her underwear. He felt her shiver and knew that she was just as ready as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. This was it. The moment he’d feared and craved in equal measure. But with her, it didn’t feel scary. It felt right.

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, her eyes never leaving his. He raised his arms, letting her pull it off. The cool air of the room kissed his bare skin, making him shiver. She traced the lines of his abs with her fingertips, her eyes taking in every inch of him with a mix of awe and affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his ear.

Bucky felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a rare and welcome sensation. He’d never been one for compliments, but coming from her, it felt like the most profound truth he’d ever heard. He kissed her again, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

They moved together, exploring each other with gentle touches and whispered sighs. Bucky’s mind was a blur of sensation, each new discovery a revelation. The way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. It was like coming home after a long, cold war, finding warmth in the most unexpected of places.

He felt her hand on the elastic of his sweatpants, and he stilled for a moment. This was the part that had always been a minefield before. But she didn’t look up at him with fear or hesitation. Just love. So he let her continue, his breath catching in his throat as she touched him, skin to skin.

Y/N’s hand was warm and sure, and Bucky couldn’t help but gasp as she touched him, her thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband. The fabric was the last barrier between them, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

With a trembling hand, Bucky reached down to help her, his heart racing as he pushed his pants down. The coolness of the air against his skin was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and he watched as she took him in, her eyes wide and filled with a hunger that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t been in decades.

They kissed again, a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips, it was a declaration of trust, of love, of the shared hope that this could be the start of something beautiful. He felt her hand slide down, her fingertips dancing against his skin, until she reached the bulge in his boxers, and he let out a soft groan that seemed to resonate through the very core of his being.

Her hand was tentative at first, exploring his hardness with gentle strokes. But as Bucky’s grip tightened on the sheets and his breathing grew ragged, she grew bolder. Her touch was a whispered promise of what was to come, a gentle reminder that she was here for him, that he wasn’t alone.

He slid his hand down to cover hers, their fingers intertwining as they found a rhythm that sent shockwaves through his body. The warmth of her hand, the softness of her skin, the way she looked at him - it was almost too much to handle. But he didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, craving more.

With a tremble, Bucky reached for the clasp of her bra, his metal digits fumbling slightly. But she was patient, smiling up at him as he finally managed to free her from the garment. Her breasts were perfect in his eyes, the soft mounds fitting perfectly into his palms. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, watching as they pebbled beneath his touch, and she gasped into his mouth. The sensation of skin against skin was electric, sending currents of pleasure through him that he hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like he’d feared. It was gentle, it was kind, it was everything he’d hoped for.

He broke the kiss to kiss his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach. He took his time, savoring each new inch of her that was revealed to him. Y/N’s breath hitched as his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, his tongue tracing a line along her inner thigh before dipping closer to where she was wet and waiting for him. He felt a small twist of doubt and self consciousness, he hadn’t actually done this since the 40s.

Her legs fell open to encourage him, and Bucky took a moment to breathe her in, to appreciate the trust she was giving him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She assured. He kissed her gently, his tongue teasing against her slit, her taste a rich mix of sweetness and desire. Y/N’s body arched off the bed, and she let out a soft moan, her hand sliding into his hair to guide him, to show him just how she liked it.

Bucky took his cues from her, his touch gentle and explorative. He’d never been with someone who knew the extent of his past, who had seen the monster he’d been made into. But here she was, her body open to him, welcoming him in. Her thighs trembled around his head as he worked his way down. His tongue found the spot that made her gasp. She was wet, slick against his mouth and he groaned, his cock pulsing with every soft whimper she made.

He could feel the tension coiling in her, tightening like a spring. Her hips began to move in time with his strokes, her breath coming in short and sharp gasps. He didn’t know how to do this, not really. But he knew he wanted to make her feel good. So he listened to her body, her sounds, her whispers of need. He focused on her reactions, learning what she liked, what made her squirm, what made her moan.

Small, quick flicks of his tongue over her clit seemed to send her reeling.

Y/N’s hands tightened in his hair as he worked her over, her body shaking with the force of her restrained pleasure. He could feel it building, the way she moved against his mouth, her legs tightening around his head, her breaths turning to pants. Her nails scraped against his scalp, a delicious pain that only served to drive him on, to make him want more, to make her feel more.

And then she was coming, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, her muscles clenching around his tongue. Bucky felt a surge of pride, of accomplishment, of pure, unadulterated joy.

He pulled back, kissing his way back up her body, feeling her pulse throb against his lips. She was beautiful, so beautiful, laid out before him like this. “Bucky,” she breathed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with pleasure. He leaned over her, his forehead touching hers. “You’re sure?” he whispered. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Bucky reached for the bedside drawer, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled out a condom. He’d had them there for months, hopeful and terrified, but they’d remained untouched. The foil packet crinkled in the quiet room, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the wake of their shared intimacy. Y/N watched him, her eyes never leaving his face, her trust in him unwavering. He rolled it on, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest, the echoes of fear that had haunted his every intimate moment. But as he positioned himself over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, he knew he could do this. For her, with her, he could overcome his worries.

He pushed inside her, slowly.

The world outside the window had gone dark, but the room was bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Her eyes were wide, watching him with a mix of excitement and concern, and he knew he had to get this right. For her, for them. Her heat enveloped him, and he felt his own walls crumbling, the last of his barriers falling away. He’d never felt this connected to anyone before, not like this. It was as if they were two lost pieces of a puzzle finally finding their place.

Their movements grew more frantic as the passion built, their kisses deep and desperate. Bucky felt the ghosts of his past trying to claw their way back in, but he pushed them away, focusing solely on the woman beneath him. Her nails dug into his back, her legs tightening around him as she matched his rhythm, urging him on.

The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of sighs and gasps and moans. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, each kiss a promise to keep her safe. Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest, a drumline of hope and desire. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like the horrors he’d anticipated. It was raw and real and everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Her nails scored down his back as she arched up to meet him, her breaths growing shallower, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Bucky felt the tension in her body, the way she tightened around him, the soft mewling noises that escaped her throat. He’d never felt so alive, so present in the moment. Each stroke was a promise, a declaration that he was here, with her, and nothing else mattered.

Their bodies moved in harmony, a dance that transcended the chaos of the world outside. His metal hand found hers, their fingers entwining as if to anchor themselves in the present. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch, the way she clung to him as if he were her lifeline. And maybe, in a way, he was.

The world narrowed down to just the two of them, the only sounds the slap of skin and the harsh pull of their breathing. Bucky’s eyebrow was furrowed. He watched her face, the way her lip got pulled between her teeth in concentration, the softness of her cheeks flushed with passion.

Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she neared the precipice again.

Their passion was palpable, a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his, and in that moment, something changed. He saw her, not just the woman he desired, but the person who had seen his darkest moments and chosen to love him regardless. And she saw him, not as the damaged soldier, but as the man who had fought to survive and come back to life.

Their movements grew more deliberate. Bucky’s rhythm slowed, his strokes deepening, as if trying to etch himself into her very being. He felt her inner walls quiver, a sign that she was close, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. But he wanted to give her everything she needed, to show her just how much she meant to him.

Y/N’s breath was a pant on his skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He leaned in, pressing kisses along her jaw, her neck, the soft skin of her collarbone. They were both hurtling uncontrollably towards the edge…

Her body tensed around him, a silent plea, and Bucky knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He thrust into her, feeling her nails dig into his back as she cried out his name, her body shattering into a thousand pieces. He watched her come undone, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure that sent him over the edge.

With a guttural groan, he followed her, his orgasm tearing through his muscles, leaving him trembling and spent. He collapsed onto her, his heart hammering against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The warmth of her body was like a medicine to his soul, a gentle reminder that he was more than just a weapon, that he was loved.

They laid there for a few moments, their hearts beating in sync, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the blanket around them. Bucky felt the warmth of her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the reality of what they had just shared settled heavily on him. It was a moment that had been months in the making, a moment where fear had been vanquished by love and trust.

He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t help but trace the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the heated skin under his fingertips. He’d never felt more alive, more human, than he did in that moment.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a softness that made his chest ache. “More than okay,” she said, her voice a whisper.

He leaned down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips. Her hand slid up his chest, her touch featherlight and reverent. It was as if she knew just how much this meant to him, just how much of a milestone it was.

They lay there, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still slick with sweat. Bucky’s mind was racing, but in a good way. He’d done it. He’d faced his fears and come out the other side. And she was still here, her arm wrapped around his waist, her breathing evening out as she snuggled closer to him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough from their earlier exertions. Y/N opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. “For what?” “For making it okay,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “For making me feel like I can do this. Like I’m not just some… some broken toy that nobody wants to play with anymore.”

Her eyes had a glassy pain in them. “Bucky, you’re so much more than that. You always have been. And I want to play with you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

——————————————————————————————————

A small gift 🎁🫶 (We’re ignoring mistakes)

[gojoest]

CRAZY ABOUT YOU — gojo satoru

tw: MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, pregnancy (reader is expecting), established relationship (you’re married), pregnancy freak!satoru, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, love, sweetheart), very very brief mention of somno & oral f receiving, reader wears a dress, he’s a freak, not proofread, wc: 2.4k

synopsis: your husband fucks you during one of your prenatal visits

your husband is a freak, you know that. but what you didn’t know was how big of a one he could be, for you. you found out — when you became pregnant with his child.

when satoru found out that you’re carrying his child — because he did before you, saw it with his six eyes — he fucked you differently. with a primal urge unheard of, like a man that’s impregnated his wife and is now claiming her again, confirming the fact that you belong to him by slamming it deep inside you. after the fifth (?) orgasm he dragged out of you that night, you asked him through a weary chuckle — “huh, where did this come from?” — and his answer began with a motion of his fingers hugging his balls — “it came from here…”, followed by his other hand caressing your belly “…and went there”, while slowly leaning in to meet your lips, “and i might just lose my mind because, baby — you’re pregnant”

a rather unconventional way to find out you’re pregnant.

if he had any semblance of decency in him before (which is rather questionable) and could keep his hands to himself (to some extent) during certain times and in certain places, it is completely off the table now.

when he wants you, you will know; others around will know it, too. he doesn’t shy away from making it obvious, or more so he doesn’t care if other people notice. what’s there to be embarrassed about? after all, you’re a couple, you do things. it’s only natural. and that pretty baby bump is the perfect proof of it. in all honesty, it gets him off when others know that he’s about to fuck his beautiful pregnant wife once he takes her home.

he's a freak like that, it can’t be helped. even more so now with the way your skin glows differently, with the way you smell, the way you carry yourself and the way your body is undergoing the natural changes as the pregnancy progresses that he finds so beautiful. it all messes with his head. brings out the real freak in him that can no longer keep his urges at bay, not when knowing that he himself brought this upon you. it makes you so undeniably his, for everyone to see and acknowledge. his chest swells with pride…

…but sometimes pride also gives way to greed, to a freakish desire for more of you.

during the rare times you go about to shower without him, he slips into the bathroom. sits on the toilet seat and starts jerking off to you, watching your swollen belly and breasts, moaning loud and clear for you to come to his aid. sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing himself into your palm, audible pants seeping from his lips as he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt (his shirt that you wear to sleep) — preparing to splatter his load on your pregnant belly; or alternatively, you open your eyes to his face buried between your legs, devouring you like a starved animal… other times, as you make dinner in the kitchen, tenderizing the meat with the mallet on the counter, he comes from behind and presses his hard-on against your ass, shamelessly asking “would you mind beating my meat, too, baby?”

and when you go about to scold him, call him a jerk, a perv, a freak, insufferable while hitting his chest — playfully, because you secretly like it when he can’t contain himself around you — he blames you for it. tells you that you’ve severed him so abysmally that he’s having a hard time now keeping it soft around you (he’s not lying). that you broke him and should take responsibility for it. chuckles fill the room and mix in between your kisses that later turn into breathy moans and pants mixed in between countless of i love you’s and you’re mine and mine only’s.

but sometimes, such as today, he takes things a bit too far…

like,

—you can’t simply fuck your wife during one of the prenatal visits just because the doctor left the examination room for a bit and your dick is rock-hard from seeing your wife’s belly out in the open.

“you have to be kidding me”, you raise your brows in absolute surprise as you watch your husband unbuckle his pants, “now? HERE?”

“please?”, he looks at you, cheeks flushed and eyes of a pleading puppy.

you knew he was up to something from the glint in his eyes as he kept staring at your exposed belly earlier, completely transfixed, only his eyes following the ultrasound probe as the doctor pressed it over your tummy.

“the doctor’s going to come any moment, you know right?”, you try to confirm he is aware that this can go very wrong.

“yes, but so am i — you don’t want me walking around in cum drenched pants, right?”, he purses his lips into a pout, one that’s obviously fake (but it works on you, even if you refuse to admit it).

“it’s not like you’ve never done it before”, you mock.

“that was only one time”, he pouts (this one’s not a fake), “okay, maybe two or three times, but it happens even to the best” (it was more than two or three times)

“aha”

“oi. whose fault do you think it was? you make a man go crazy. i mean, look at me right now, just look — i am standing here with my dick almost out for you, in the doctor’s office”

“so you realize this is absolutely crazy but still you won’t pack your dick away?”

“no, i will not. i’ll die if i don’t get to fuck you this instant. and i mean it, it hurts so much. and the authorities will suspect you did it, you know. because it’s always the wives anyway…..and they won’t be wrong about it”

“you’re hopeless, satoru”, you sigh, giving him a roll of your eyes.

but still, leaning on your elbows you slowly rise yourself from the examination table and sit at the edge of it, removing the towel covering your thighs. spreading your legs for him, you think that you really made the right choice to wear a dress today — less in the way for your husband and another one of his “if i don’t get to fuck my wife, i’ll die” episodes.

“i am”, he saunters over to you, biting his lower lip at the sight of your thighs and the beautiful belly hanging in between, “but i can’t help it when you’re so pretty for me like this, i go crazy”

and fuck, if it doesn’t make you wet the way he looks at you right now as he stops to stand between your open thighs, invading your space with such ease because that’s where he belongs to be. all the signs hint at that, too — the ring on your finger, the baby in your belly and the wetness dripping from your cunt, ready to welcome him in.

“yea, you really do”, you pull the front of his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, earning a low hiss from him upon your hand making contact with it.

“all because of you”, he places his hands under your ass and slightly pulls you to himself. you’re immediately met with where he’s hard, it’s poking and rubbing against your belly.

a moan crawls up his throat and breaks out into a satisfied groan. part of him wants to cum just like this — by rubbing himself against your belly. but god, you smell so good down there that it shifts his desire. now that he’s so close to you — standing right in front of your doors — he can smell it so much better. your scent wafts up from your heat and goes straight to his nostrils, letting his brain register in the most primal of ways that your body is ready for him.

you know he’s noticed the dampness of your panties by the way his smile’s faded into a grin, you can smell yourself in the air around you, too.

“fuck, baby…can cum from this alone, you know? rubbing myself on that pretty belly that i made on you”, satoru whispers as he leans forward to take your mouth into his. his lips are loaded with such intensity that they suck the air from your lungs, leave you moaning into his mouth. the grip he’s got on your ass tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. “but that won’t do now, so hold on tight”

you comply in silence, wrapping your hands around his neck as he lifts you up just enough to peel your panties down to your thighs, then sits you up again and drags them down your legs and onto the floor.

“just so you know—if someone comes before i do, i’ll just keep fucking you”, he grins at you as he positions himself back between your legs. his words might sound like a joke, an exaggeration of some sort to make it clear how much he wants you right now, but you know better than anyone that he’s pretty serious about it.

“then hurry up, you freak”

his fingers swipe over your cunt — to confirm that you are indeed as ready as your scent gives away — and collect your arousal before rubbing it all over the length of his throbbing cock, mixing your wetness with his vigorously leaking pre.

“open them a little bit more for me, baby”, he coaxes, hands back on your thighs, tapping softly on your skin as a signal to spread them just a little bit more and give him way. you lean back on your hands and push your legs open as much as you can. the motion causing your belly to bump against his cock, squishing it between the two of you, pressing it against his stomach.

“s-shit, baby”, he hisses at the sensation, his body jerks a little and his hips buck forward, against your belly, to deepen the friction, “i can really cum from just rubbing it on you….fuck, that’s crazy”, he laughs.

but satoru stops himself.

his hand moves away from you to get a hold of his cock and help it against your entrance, pushing the head towards your folds before slowly sinking in the entirety of it, bottoming out in you from the very start. there’s no time to waste and he’s got no patience left in him, once he’s in — he’s going all the way.

“nghh, s-satoru”, you whimper at his needy intrusion, but swallow him so easily that your wetness starts to spurt out as he’s starting to dart in and out, trickling down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the examination table.

“fuck, love…look at the way you take me”, he breathily chuckles, head thrown back as he picks up the rhythm of his thrusts, “and you call me crazy, huh…haha, fuck, f-fuc-k” — if his voice was a tad bit louder just now and could keep a steady note, he would’ve sounded maniacal.

“s-shut up….don’t compare me to yourself”, you protest, trying to deny the fact you want him just as bad but the way your walls clench around him proves the other way around. you become who you surround yourself with. he’s crazy to do this to you here of all places. and you’re just as much crazy to let him have his way with you.

you suck him in so deep that his body, caught off guard, jerks and bucks forward. it makes him forget where he starts and where he ends. he wants to let go but also to never stop, he’s fighting so hard but it’s a battle he’s slowly losing. as his pace is growing faster his thrusts are getting sloppier. “shit”, he curses under his breath. his balls are sizzling and he wants to bust so bad but not before he makes you cum.

the tension, the pulsing of his cock and the ridges of his throbbing veins — you can feel them like a heartbeat inside of you, and each time he slams against that sweet spot your clit responds with a beat of its own.

you try to hold your voice back but pants leave through your parted lips as you gasp for air.

“nghh, ’toru…’m gonna cum”, you whimper incoherently as you throw your head back, eyes shut close.

“yea? go on, baby—cum for me. come on, sweetheart—i’ll help you out”, he breathes.

his hands grabbing onto the plush of your thighs with a deadly grip, pulling you closer to help fuck himself into you better. the bottom of your belly is flat against his rock-hard abdomen now and he keeps it that way while ramming himself inside you, rubbing his cock around your sensitive walls, without pulling out. over and over until you squirm and come undone. face grimacing in pleasure and hips jerking from the electrifying sensation as you keep chanting “fuck, fuck, fuck” under your breath as quietly as possible so your voice doesn’t make it past the walls of the examination room for others — doctors, nurses and patients — to hear.

you glance your eyes to him, all disheveled and sweaty as his hips live through the last few thrusts left in them before he implodes inside of you. you hear him grumble how he’s about to fill you up while peering at you with a desperate face.

“f-fuck”, he growls throatily, charging one last time into you before spurting his load inside you. his body shudders from the release he’s been holding back. and he’s pouring too much, his heat spilling and filling your insides. you can feel it all — he’s making a frothy mess of your cunt.

it takes a few seconds after he’s done pouring his seed that his body reigns back control and he stops shuddering. he then looks at you.

“if i pull out now it’ll all spill out, you know? so maybe we should stay—?”

“no.”, you dryly interrupt. “don’t force our luck. put that thing away before someone comes and help me put my panties on”

“but it’ll spill out”, he insists.

“i’ll hold it in, don’t worry”

“oh? you know just the thought alone is doing inhumane things to me all over again, right?”

“satoru. don’t you dare.”

[cloudysonder]

yor's faith vs loid's mistrust

(god I love them so much, add them to the list of het ships that gay people love)

so we know that yor is a herbo to the core

She takes things at 100% face value, and never doubts someone else's intentions:

Takes her coworker's bullying completely straight-faced -- assumes they are pointing out her defects not out of malice, but because it's simply true that she doesn't belong in their world

Believes Becky immediately and completely when she said that she got drunk off of black tea in order to "flirt" with Loid

Similarly, believed Anya immediately and completely when she said she was sick bc she didn't want to go to school (recent chapter)

Believes that the shopkeeper is just "cleaning up" the country (we, as readers, still don't know how true that is)

Believed Loid when he explained that he was beating up people who were clearly thieves bc "concussive therapy"

Believes Loid's list of other batshit ridiculous lies

Believes Yuri's front for his secret police job

In yor's worldview, there are good people, and there are bad people. Good people would never do bad things, and thus should always be trusted and protected. Bad people always do bad things, and thus deserve to be cleansed. She is constantly unsure of where she fits on this scale -- all she knows is that she is some kind of Other, fit only for serving the Good People who shouldn't come into contact with the Bad People. (Maybe she isn't a good person nor a bad person because she isn't a person at all... she's a tool.)

Loid almost never takes things at face value, always doubting other people's intentions:

As a foil to Yor, he always doubts Anya's lies

Being a spy has taught him not only how to spot deception, but to expect it -- he's constantly constructing some kind of conspiracy in his mind about how his enemies are one step ahead, ready to kill/report him

Figured Yuri & Dr. Gorey out almost immediately

EXCEPT ☝️. For Yor.

He hasn't found it suspicious how Yor knows how to IMMOBILIZE A COW???? how to BREAK A STRENGTH MACHINE?? how her tennis swing is so strong it CUTS THE BALL INTO SHREDS?

On their first date she literally sent a guy flying

He's unable to read Nightfall's big old crush on him, always suspecting that she's aiming to double-cross him to climb the ladder, but he believes Yor when she says she wants to support him and be his partner through thick and thin.

He's mentioned before that he worries that Yor has made him soft... her total honesty and gullibility makes it hard to imagine that she'd ever be insincere. She's utterly selfless and (in Loid's view, as he still probably believes that she prostituted herself to support Yuri) has always put herself in the line of fire in order to serve others. How could someone like that ever betray him?

And just as Yor challenges Loid's mistrustful worldview, Loid similarly challenges Yor's belief that she is nothing but a tool. Loid constantly affirms her as Anya's mother, as a member of the Forger family, and as a person who needs friends outside of the family (women patriots society), and as a strong partner that he feels assured relying on.

They're such fantastic foils/opposites to each other, but the longer they stay together, the more they challenge each other's preconceptions. They're growing together, and I think that's beautiful

[hiraizyo]

sweetheart, i can feel you.

pairing: megan skiendiel x female reader

synopsis: megan who loves sitting on your lap, no matter the time or the place. but it wasn’t like you were complaining, anyways.

tags: established relationship, fluff.

now playing: ride me darling, artemas

a/n: inspired by this dahmo photo, and because i love dark hair megan, and also because she just seems like the type of girlfriend to claim you as her seat.

when you first met megan, you didn’t think of her as the territorial type. and in all honesty, she didn’t expect it from you either.

things began to change soon after being nine months into the relationship and you both had to have everyone know that you belonged to each other.

it was the usual intimate things — hickeys, scratch marks, bite marks — that normally meant both of you were taken.

neither of you were complaining, though.

(megan still remembered the day she’d come home, her skin littered with your love bites.

“jesus christ,” manon muttered, seeing her neck. it wasn’t much, but it would take a little more effort to hide. “yn really needed to make her claim, didn’t she?”

lara peeked over at megan when she walked by, hearing the two converse and made her own teasing comment.

the dark haired girl blushed, but didn’t say anything. she was absolutely shameless, relishing in the fact that she was yours just as much as you were hers.

besides, she would be able to cover up a few hickeys here and there. you, on the other hand, wouldn’t fare well as much as her. your back was filled with long, red lines that megan was sure would sting for days.)

(she was a bit of a scratcher.)

the claims eventually gravitated to a more softer and innocent light.

for instance, megan always needing to hold your hand and run her thumb along the back of it. or you always having to have an arm around her, whether it be her waist or her shoulders. at some point, it was decided that you’d even wear one her bra straps on your wrist, almost as if it were a bracelet.

recently though, megan had built up a habit of sitting on your lap, which she claimed was her favorite place to be.

“is this seat taken?”

looking up, you see megan standing above you while you sat on a wooden bench outside. currently, you were at a house party that your mutual friend yunjin was throwing.

you chuckled, “which one?”

it wasn’t a serious question, knowing exactly what she meant. and even if there were plenty of other empty seats around you, megan only wanted one of them.

she didn’t respond, giving you a sly smile before she moved your hand out of the way and sat herself right on your lap. she wiggled, getting comfortable. immediately, your hands went around her torso, locking your right hand with her left one.

megan turned to give you a kiss, smiling gently, feeling as if she was at peace. her lips were soft and tasted of cherry.

“how long are you going to do this?” you asked, leaning your chin against her shoulder.

the conversation you’d been having previously was long forgotten, and although you felt a little guilty considering megan practically interrupted it, you knew you couldn’t focus on anything else with her around.

“oh this?” megan gestured downwards, “it’s sadly not a phase, i think i found my new favorite spot.”

the laugh that escaped you made megan’s chest warm, and the look in your eyes made her feel as she was the only person you were seeing right now.

“i’m not complaining, not at all.” you quickly said, hoping to convey that it wasn’t a problem. “in fact, i quite like it. having a pretty girl sitting on my lap is like a dream.”

“a pretty girl?” megan turned to face you completely.

her body was now turned to the side with her the side of shoulder against your chest instead of her back. the look on her face had you leaning in, ghosting your lips over hers. her eyebrow was raised, challenging you.

oh, how you loved to tease her.

“sorry, my pretty girl.”

your lips pressed together in a chaste kiss. you could feel megan smiling against your lips, her fingers fiddling with the bra strap on your wrist.

“ugh, here they go again.”

hearing the comment of daniela from around the room, megan pulled away and yelled an insult back, while you leaned into her and pressed a delicate kiss against her lower neck.

“are you comfortable?”

“very.”

you groaned at megan’s cheeky reply, but you brought her closer to you despite the circumstances.

“baby, you can’t even see the movie.”

megan was once again sitting on your lap, while you were on the couch in the living room of the katseye dorms. you’d be spending the night there, and while they were all in their own rooms, you and megan took the opportunity to watch movies in the lounge.

however, she seemed to have different plans.

as soon as you’d finally picked a movie, megan walked over to you with a bowl of popcorn. she set it down in front of you on a coffee table and maneuvered her way onto your lap.

her back was facing the tv, the movie now paused which barely even made it through the intro. you laughed quietly to yourself, pulling her even closer than before.

“the movie is the least of my concerns right now,” megan said, laying her cheek in your shoulder. “i just wanna cuddle.”

“we should’ve just stayed in your room then.” you replied, tracing shapes on her exposed skin.

“lara would tease us again.” she mumbled, and snuggled into you further.

a quiet and comforting atmosphere settled around you two as you continued tracing shapes, the feeling of it lulling megan into a drowsy state. her breathing evened out and you could tell she was close to falling asleep.

you realized then that the plans for a movie were a waste, breathing in her scent. she mumbled something under her breath so quiet that you barely heard her.

“mh?”

megan turned her head so that it was now tucked into your neck, “i asked how are you this comfortable?”

her breath tickled your skin, trying not to let it affect you too much. a lazy grin settled on your lips, and you shrugged lightly.

“i dunno, i guess i’m just built like that.” you whispered, to which she giggled at.

megan lifted up her head, now staring at you. her eyes were filled with such love and warmth that you couldn’t believe she was really with you.

“i’m using you as a pillow from now.” she stated, not leaving room for any argument.

a curt nod was given in response. accepting your fate, you knew then that megan would hold her word to it.

you were already late for the function, and it didn’t help that megan’s outfit had you undressing her with your eyes.

you were leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, arms folded over your chest as you watched her movements. your gaze raked over her, admiring from afar. many thoughts swirled around in your head, but the main one was how could someone look so effortlessly beautiful?

“i can feel you staring.” she noted as she looked around the dresser for a specific necklace.

clicking your tongue, you tilted your head to the side. “well i can’t help it when my girlfriend is drop dead gorgeous.”

megan shook her head playfully, finally seeing the item she was searching for. she beckoned you over with her hand, holding the necklace up for you.

“help me put this on.”

she turned around, lifting her dark hair in order for you to place the necklace on her neck. making quick work of clasping the necklace together, you let it rest on the back of her neck, fingers trailing across her smooth skin.

peering at her figure the mirror, you let your thoughts consume your words.

“i don’t think i can make it through the night without tearing that dress off you.”

megan’s cheeks flushed a pink hue at your comment. she turned back to face you and tapped your chest twice.

“we’re already late.” she reminded you.

your hands snuck up to her waist, settling them on her hips and gripped softly. she looked over you once, thinking that you looked equally as beautiful as she did.

“we should take a photo.” megan moved to quickly grab her phone, opening up the camera app.

“you quite literally just said we’re already late.” you chuckled at her hypocrisy.

megan hushed you and made you sit on the square leather bench in front of the dresser. following her instructions obediently, you waited silently for her as she fixed herself one last time before taking a seat on your lap.

it was almost natural at this point, having her atop your legs.

your hands went to her thighs, feeling the dress material under your skin. she held up the camera in the mirror, capturing the moment of a kiss being pressed to her cheek.

“i am so making this my new background.” she smiled, and you finally left your apartment for the night ahead.

well, i’m back for another…

again, i apologize for any typos and hope reading this was enjoyable! i’m not sure if i like this much but i really wanted to write a megan imagine <3

[cowboybeepboop]

Magic

"Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4.3k 

Summary: Modern reader falls for Thorin and captures his heart. 

Warnings: Soft thorin, unprotected sex, handjob, p in v sex

a/n: Idk I’ve been wanting to write smth like this for a while so hopefully it’s good. Let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy. I’m also currently in school so I’m trying to write in my free time but it’s a difficult balance 😣💔

Gandalf had come across you lost and confused, wandering the trails of the earth. You remembered him, his face, from a movie you had seen in your world. “Gandalf?” You called out to him suspiciously. 

"Hm?" He looked around then spotted you. "Ah! A human! What are you doing out here all alone in the middle of the wilderness?"

“I don’t.. I don’t know?” You reply, stepping closer to him seeking the warmth of another body. 

Your stomach growled, you have been wandering for hours, maybe even days. Your clothes aren’t from this world and aren’t proper hiking attire. 

You adjust the skirt of your dress as you stop in front of him. “I’m not sure where I am..”

His bushy eyebrows furrow at your strange, out-of-place clothes, and a bemused look crossed his face. 

He took a step closer, noting your exhaustion and the state of your attire. "I can see that. You don't belong here, do you?"

Gandalf assessed your weary state and wrapped his large cloak around you gently, guiding you towards his horse. 

"You look exhausted," he murmured, concern in his eyes. "You can ride with me to Erebor. It is not far."

With a little help from him, you clambered onto the horse's back, settling between Gandalf and the horse's broad neck.

Gandalf led you through the winding paths towards Erebor, the mountain's towering presence growing larger and larger through the trees.

His horse carried you both steadily, and after some time, the grand entrance to the dwarven kingdom came into view. 

Gandalf dismounted first and helped you down from the horse before guiding you into the hall of the dwarven king.

King Thorin Oakenshield sat upon a throne carved from solid oak, a long, dark beard covering most of his broad chest. He regarded you with quiet curiosity as you and Gandalf approached.

"Gandalf," Thorin greeted. "You've returned. And with a strange companion?"

Thorin's gaze flicked between Gandalf and the strange human standing beside him. It was a woman, but not like any he had ever seen before. Her clothes were unlike anything from Middle Earth, and she appeared lost and dazed.

"Who is this?" Thorin demanded, his voice sharp and suspicious. "And where did you find her, Gandalf?"

You subconsciously hold the cloak closer to you, shifting under the scrutiny of the King.

Thorin's blue eyes, sharp and calculating, studied you closely. The way you clung to the cloak, the slight tremble in your hands, it all spoke of fear and uncertainty.

Gandalf stepped forward, gesturing to you. "King Thorin, this woman... she appears to be lost. I found her wandering in the wilderness, disoriented and bewildered."

“Y/N.” You say softly, “My name is Y/N.”

Thorin's eyebrows raised at the sound of your name. It rolled off your tongue softly, and he noted the gentleness in your voice. 

"Y/N," he repeated slowly, the pronunciation foreign on his tongue. He then turned to glare at Gandalf, his eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion.

“I don’t mean to intrude..” you give the king an awkward smile. “But is there any food I might be allowed?” Your hand goes to your rumbling stomach, your expression a grimace.

Thorin's eyes softened as he heard your stomach grumble. He couldn't help but let out a small, gruff chuckle, amused by your honesty. 

"Starving, are you?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "We can't have that now, can we?" 

He then barked out a command, "Nori! Bring some food and drink for our new guest!"

You visibly relax, a small smile creeping up your lips. “Thank you.”

Thorin's stern demeanor softened slightly as he saw the relief on your face. "It's the least we can do," he replied gruffly.

Nori, a wiry, quick-fingered dwarf, came rushing into the room, carrying a tray of steaming food and a tankard of ale. He placed the tray on a table near you, a sly smile playing on his face. "Here you go, lass."

You reach out and give him a swift hug. “Thank you so much,” you grin widely as you take a seat, eyes sparkling.

Nori's cheeks flushed as he received an unexpected embrace from you. He chuckled and patted your back awkwardly. 

"No problem, lass. Just doing my job." He backed away, mumbling something under his breath about "soft humans" as he scurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Thorin watched the exchange with a mix of surprise and fascination. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

Thorin observed you, watching silently as you took a small bite. His penetrating blue eyes studied your every move, his gaze unwavering. There was something about you that intrigued him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Finally, he broke the silence. "So, Y/N," he began, his voice deep and rumbling. "Can you tell me how you came to be lost in the wilderness?"

“Not really.” You chew eagerly, the cloak Gandalf gave you sliding down your shoulders slightly and exposing your skin to Thorin's gaze.

Thorin's eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of your shoulders as the cloak slipped down. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of your bare flesh. He quickly schooled his reaction and returned his gaze to your face.

"What do you mean, not really?" he asked, his voice gruff, feigning indifference. "You must have some idea of how you ended up out there, lost and alone."

“I don’t..” you sigh, stopping your chewing as you look up at him. “I just remember falling asleep in my bed and then waking up in a cold dark forest.”

Thorin's brow furrowed at your response, confusion and concern etched on his face. "So... you just appeared out of nowhere?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism. 

He took a step closer to you, eyeing the strange clothes you wore. "And what of your clothes? Those are unlike any I've ever seen."

“I was at a party,” you laugh, looking down at your revealing dress that is less than practical in this situation.

Thorin's gaze darkened as he took in the sight of your party attire, the low neckline and the bare length of your thighs on display. He swallowed heavily, his mind wandering to places he shouldn’t allow it to go. 

"A party, you say?" He repeated, his voice a little huskier than he had intended.

You nod, Thorin joins you at the table, encouraging you to eat as he continues to question you. 

A few weeks have passed since you arrived, you’ve become a little more versed in the world and palace. Having now met each of the many dwarves living in the palace.

As the weeks passed and you grew accustomed to the palace, he found himself seeking your company more and more.

The other dwarves had grown fond of you as well, especially Fili and Kili who teased you frequently and took every opportunity to make you laugh.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Thorin invited you to his private chambers once again. 

You carefully step toward his room, cautious and silent as to not wake anyone. You lightly tap on the heavy door, “Uh your highness?”

Thorin rose from his chair as he heard the soft tapping on the door. He took a moment to compose himself before calling out, his voice gravelly and deep, "Come in."

He stood by the fireplace, the amber glow of the flames dancing across his face as he waited for you to enter.

You struggle with the door, still not used to how heavy doors in this world are. “Fucking hell,” you murmur as you finally get it open, slipping inside and walking toward Thorin.

Thorin chuckled; he found your modern curses amusing and strangely endearing.

As you approached him by the fireplace, he took in your appearance. The low light of the fire illuminated your features, casting soft shadows across your face. He noted the way your gown clung to your curves, and his eyes darkened slightly as he fought to control his thoughts.

"Close the door," he commanded in a gruff voice, his gaze still fixed on you. 

The room was large and sparsely furnished, with only a few pieces of furniture placed throughout. The fireplace provided a warm, intimate setting, and Thorin gestured for you to take a seat on a nearby couch.

You close the door carefully, trying not to make too much noise. Having your back turned to the dwarf meant his gaze could wander your frame and each slight movement of your body. 

“Thorin,” you take a seat next to him. “Those doors are so damn heavy.”

As you settled down beside him, Thorin couldn’t help but notice the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. His eyes were drawn to the subtle movement of your body, the way the fabric of your gown clung to your curves.

He chuckled at your comment, a gruff sound that rumbled in his chest. "You'll get used to it," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "After all, you've been here for a few weeks now."

You’ve gotten used to being in his room as he’s been teaching you the history of his kingdom, but you’re never here this late in the evening. “Did you miss me?” You tease as you relax into the plush couch.

Thorin's lips curled into a small smile at your playful tone. He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of amusement in his gaze.

"Don't get too cocky," he grumbled, trying to appear aloof. "I just thought you might want to know more of our history, that's all."

But deep down, he had grown quite fond of your company. Perhaps a little too fond.

“Mm, do I have to learn?” You pout, tired from the day you’ve had. “Perhaps we can just relax..”

Thorin chuckled, his gruff exterior softening slightly at your pout. He knew you had been working hard and was pleasantly surprised by your suggestion to relax. 

"Hmm, you want to skip the history lesson tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what would we do instead?"

“I could.. brush your hair! I could braid it.” You offer, not knowing the implications of your suggestion.

Thorin's eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion. He hadn't expected you to offer to brush his hair, let alone braid it. In dwarven culture, it was considered an intimate gesture, reserved for close family or lovers.

But he couldn’t deny that the idea of having you touch his hair was appealing. He found your presence soothing, and the thought of your fingers running through his hair was more enticing than he cared to admit.

"You... want to brush my hair?" he repeated, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of curiosity. 

He shifted in his seat, watching you closely, his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. He could hardly deny the effect your presence had on him, and the thought of you being so close, touching him in such an intimate way made his heart skip a beat.

“Why not?” You grin while scooting slightly closer to him. “It would be nice..”

Thorin's breath hitched as you scooted closer to him, and he found himself strangely compelled by the thought of having your hands in his hair. Despite his usual gruff and stoic demeanor, the idea of allowing you to brush and braid his hair felt oddly vulnerable.

He cleared his throat, trying to suppress his growing desire. "All right then," he grumbled, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. "You can brush my hair."

You grin, taking the brush from the table in your hands. “This is quite exciting.” You murmur, your hands on his shoulders as you kneel behind him.

Thorin felt the warmth of your hands on his shoulders as you knelt behind him, and a shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself as he felt your breath on the back of his neck.

"Exciting, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and gruff. "I never thought having my hair brushed would be so thrilling."

“I’ve been wanting to touch your hair for ages,” you softly undo the braids from his hair, your fingers nimbly gliding through. “It looks so soft.”

The honesty and softness in your voice sent a rush of warmth through his chest.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper, "It’s not as soft as yours, I assure you."

The feeling of your fingers gliding through his hair was both soothing and arousing, sending tingles down his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of your gentle touch.

You carefully brush through his locks, your fingers brushing against his back as you do so. 

Thorin's breath hitched slightly as your fingers trailed against his back, sending a ripple of heat through him. It took all his self-control not to lean into your touch, to feel more of your hands on his skin.

"You... have nimble fingers," he mumbled, his voice gruff and a touch huskier than usual.

“I take that, that is a compliment?” You murmur with a soft giggle as you begin to massage his scalp, the action is something your mom used to do to help you relax.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling sound of contentment as you began to massage his scalp, the tension in his muscles melting away under your touch.

He hummed in response to your question. "A compliment indeed," he murmured, his eyes closing as he leaned into your fingers. "You have a gentle touch. It's... soothing."

“Well, thank you.” Your nails gently scratch against his skin. The pads of your fingertips working at his scalp.

Thorin couldn’t help but moan softly at the pleasure of your touch, the soft scratching of your fingernails sending shocks of desire coursing through him.

He shifted slightly in his seat, trying to regain some control over his growing need. His body was on fire, every inch of him aching for more of your touch. 

"Keep that up, and you'll put me to sleep," he teased gruffly, his voice rough with suppressed desire.

“Maybe I’d like to lull you to sleep.” You tease, you adjust yourself, sitting down against the arm of the couch. “Just relax, you can lean against me.” Your legs spread, resting on either side of his body.

Thorin’s mind raced as you adjusted your position, the thought of leaning his weight against your soft body was both thrilling and terrifying. He could practically feel your thighs against his sides, and the thought was both enticing and tortuous.

But he couldn’t deny the aching need in him to give into the temptation of your offer. Without a word, he leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest as he allowed himself to relax into your embrace.

“Are you comfortable like this?” You question, fingers still working in his hair.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling hum of contentment as he leaned against you, the feeling of your fingers in his hair sending waves of pleasure through his body. 

He nodded, his voice gruff and slightly sleepy. "Yes, quite comfortable," he mumbled, his eyes closed as he savored the sensation of being so close to you. "Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

“They’re good for other things too…” you reply in a suggestive tone.

Thorin's eyes snapped open at your suggestive tone, his body tensing at the implication. He swallowed heavily, his mind immediately filled with vivid images of all the “other things” he wished your hands could do to him.

He cleared his throat, his voice rough and strangled. "Is that so?" he managed to reply, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“Mhm,” you trail one hand down his chest. “I’ve been told that I’m quite skilled with my hands.” You bite down on your lower lip.

Thorin's heart pounded in his chest as you trailed your hand down his chest, the simple touch sending a wave of heat through his body. He swallowed heavily, the sight of you biting your lip sending his thoughts spiraling out of control.

He couldn’t deny that the thought of your skills with your hands aroused him deeply, but he fought to keep his desire in check.

"Are you now?" he managed to reply, his voice thick with suppressed need. "And who exactly has told you this?"

“They’re not important right now,” you mutter, “my focus is on you, love..” you slide your hand under his shirt, fingers brushing over his muscles.

Thorin's breath hitched at the feeling of your hand under his shirt, your touch igniting a fire in him that he could barely control. The way you referred to him as ‘love’ made his heart clench.

He let out a low, guttural sound as your fingers grazed over his muscles. Your touch was both soothing and arousing, and he found himself leaning into your hand, craving more of your touch.

"You're making it very hard to think straight," he whispered huskily.

“Mm, you’re very handsome my King.” You press a kiss to his temple, your other hand moving from his hair to his chest.

Thorin's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your kiss on his temple, his heart hammering in his chest at the simple yet intimate gesture.

"You... you have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. The feeling of your other hand on his chest made his muscles tense under your touch, his breath catching in his throat.

“Let me take care of you..” You move from behind him, your breasts pressing against his back as you move your hand to his trousers.

The feeling of your breasts pressing against his back sent a jolt of pleasure through Thorin’s body, and he let out a strangled gasp. He could feel the heat of you against him, and it was both tantalizing and torturous.

He swallowed heavily, his voice a hoarse whisper as he tried to fight the overwhelming desire coursing through him. "Take... take care of me?" he repeated, his eyes dark with need.

You kiss his neck as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers grazing over his hardness.

Thorin’s breath hitched as your lips brushed against his neck, followed by the feeling of your hand slipping into his pants. His body trembled with need as your fingers grazed over his hardness, and he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against your shoulder.

"You’re... you’re driving me mad," he managed to gasp out.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear, your hand grasping his length.

Thorin's body tensed as your hand grasped him, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips at the sensation. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such pleasure, and the feeling of your breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine.

He forced himself to relax, his head falling back against your shoulder as he surrendered to your touch. "Please... yes, take care of me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

You comply, your thumb brushing over his tip and spreading his precum. He pulls his trousers down, exposing himself to the cool air, your hand moves around him.

You begin to stroke him gently, your hand moving with a rhythm that you've learned from his reactions. Each stroke causes his breath to hitch, each touch of your thumb sends a jolt of pleasure through his body. "Is this what you want?" You whisper, your voice a seductive purr in his ear.

Thorin's eyes squeezed shut as he nodded, his body reacting instinctively to the exquisite pleasure you were giving him. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing faster with every stroke. "Yes," he managed to murmur, his voice a rough growl of need. 

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you whisper sweet nothings that only served to heighten his arousal. Each word was a caress, each sound a stroke of pleasure that painted images in his mind of what was to come.

Your hand grew bolder, your strokes more deliberate as you felt his cock swell and throb in your grasp. You knew you had him right where you wanted him, and the power of it thrilled you. 

"Y/N..." he gasped out your name, his body begging for more. He was lost in the sensation, the world outside of the warmth of your embrace and the feel of your hand on him ceased to exist. 

Thorin's hand reached up to clutch the fabric of your gown, his fingers digging into the material as he fought the urge to pull you closer, to feel more of you.

Your touch grew more insistent, your hand moving faster as you felt him growing closer to release. His muscles tensed, and you knew he was close. 

"I... I need you," he whispered, his voice strained with desire. "I need all of you."

With those words, the last of his self-control snapped, and he turned to face you, his eyes burning with passion as he pulled you into a bruising kiss.

As Thorin claimed your lips in a fiery kiss, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. The heat of your body pressed against his, and his hands began to roam, exploring the soft curves hidden beneath your gown. 

His fingers traced the lines of your corset, desperate to feel more of your skin. Your own hands moved to his broad chest, exploring the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Each touch, each kiss grew more feverish as you both gave in to the passion that had been simmering between you for weeks. 

Your breaths mingled, gasps and moans filling the air as the intensity of your connection grew. The fireplace cast flickering shadows on the wall, dancing in time with the rhythm of your bodies. His hands found your breasts, cupping them gently before moving to untie the corset strings.

 As the fabric fell away, revealing your naked chest, Thorin couldn’t help but worship them with his mouth, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch with a whimper of pleasure. 

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against him, feeling his hardness beneath you, begging for more. The room grew hazy with desire as you both lost yourself in the moment, the world outside forgotten in the face of the passion consuming you.

Feeling the warmth of your skin and the weight of your breasts in his hands, Thorin's desire grew more insistent, his cock straining against your stomach. He broke the kiss, panting heavily as he looked into your eyes, searching for permission to take this further. 

Your eyes met his, dark with want, and you nodded, your hands sliding down to his hips to guide his cock against your wet, eager pussy. He groaned as the head of his cock teased your entrance, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through his body. 

With a gentle rock of your hips, you encouraged him, and he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you with a deep, guttural moan. You gasped as he filled you completely, the sensation of him inside you like nothing you had ever felt before. 

The room spun as he began to thrust, the sound of your mingled cries and the crackling of the fire the only noises in the vast space. Each stroke was met with a whimper of pleasure from you, your body moving in perfect harmony with his, your hips rising to meet each powerful thrust. 

The intensity grew, your breaths becoming more ragged, your movements more erratic as the pleasure built within you. Thorin’s hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements, pushing deeper and faster as he chased his own release. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would surely be visible tomorrow, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming ecstasy that crashed over you both, leaving you gasping for breath and clinging to each other as the world outside the warm cocoon of his chambers faded away into insignificance.

You moaned into Thorin's mouth, feeling his cock pulse and swell as he claimed your body, the intensity of his thrusts increasing. His beard brushed against your cheeks, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience. 

Your own hips met his rhythm, desperately seeking the peak of pleasure that was just out of reach. Your breaths grew quicker and shallower, your heart hammering in your chest as the pressure builds between your legs. 

Thorin's hands slid down to grasp your ass, lifting you slightly to change the angle, and the new sensation sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. 

The dwarf king growled in response, his own release following closely behind, his warm seed filling you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, you remained like that, panting and trembling in each other's arms, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of passion, vulnerability, and something deeper that neither of you dared to name. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, and whispered, "I never knew... I never knew it could be like this."

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | Masterlist

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson summary: After a steamy encounter with a sinfully handsome man in New Orleans, Camille DeWaterson returns to her life as a soon-to-be-married paralegal in Houston, Texas. But the incident becomes difficult to forget when the otherworldly stranger waltzes into her law firm, bringing a series of strange and enticing events with him. Terrence “Terry” Richmond, is an incredibly disciplined, calculating, and ambitious individual, at least… that’s what he is to the average mortal. But in reality, he’s a bloodthirsty supernatural with a keen interest for money, power, and beautiful women. When the gorgeous Camille DeWaterson slips from his grasp one fateful night in New Orleans, he vows to track her down and make her his bride. It doesn’t matter to him that she already has a fiancé or a commitment to join two families together. He isn’t going to rest until she belongs to him… body, mind and soul.

a/n: hello! below are the links to my first (and probably last lol) series on Tumblr. If you love supernatural story lines, the villain gets the girl trope, black ocs, or Aaron Pierre in general, I hope you'll enjoy this piece! updates will be every Friday :)

(also will be including a running playlist to much the chapters)

preview | pt. one | pt. two | pt. three | pt. four | pt. five | pt. six | pt. seven | pt. eight | pt. nine | pt. ten

playlist:

Drugs-UPSAHL

She-Tyler, the Creator

Can't Get You Out of My Head-Kylie Minogue

Excitement-Trippie Redd

No Heart-21 Savage

Next Lifetime-Erykah Badu

You Right-Doja Cat

I Luv Your Girl-The Dream

Streets-Doja Cat

Dark Red-Steve Lacy

Love on the Brain-Rihanna

I Put A Spell On You-Nina Simone

Baby Boy-Beyonce ft. Sean Paul

House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls- The Weeknd

Floor 555-XXXTENTACION

I'm Tired-Labrinth, Zendaya

Toxic-Britney Spears

When Will I See You Smile Again?-BBD

All I Want is You-Miguel, J. Cole

Honesty-Pink Sweat$

Kiss it Better-Rihanna

Skin-Mac Miller

Fantasy-Mariah Carey and ODB

I'm Sprung-T-Pain

[myerssimp21]

Iceberg's Jewel pt. 1

This is just another idea rattling around in my head! While this is still yandere Batfam, the premise is slightly different—here, they haven’t quite met you yet. The focus starts with Oswald Cobblepot and the Iceberg Lounge, but trust me, the Batfamily won’t be far behind. Timeline-wise, this would technically come first, even though in my other yandere Batfam fics, Tim and Jason have already had their moments with you. So yes, there will be a plot hole later where they’ve somehow already hooked up with you—just roll with it. Consider it canon-ish, but mostly just me playing around with ideas. tl;dr: This is a prequel of sorts to my other yandere Batfam fics, but I’m mostly here to have fun with the concept. Hope you enjoy! 💙 word count: 3201

Oswald Cobblepot prided himself on running a tight ship. The Iceberg Lounge was a beacon of opulence in Gotham, catering to a clientele that wanted their danger with a side of champagne. When he put out that little “Help Wanted” sign as a joke—an amusing way to signal to the people he was looking for that he was ready to onboard—he hadn’t expected someone like you to waltz in.

You were nervous but bright-eyed, clutching a copy of your résumé (how quaint) in one hand, wearing a Gotham University sweater that screamed student loans and part-time hustle. The smile you gave him when he walked into the lounge floor was disarming—too genuine for this city. You asked to speak to someone about the janitorial position, and Os had to bite back a laugh.

“A janitor? Here? Sweetheart, you might be too good for this place,” he muttered under his breath, too quietly for you to hear, before waving a hand dismissively at one of his goons. “Send her to my office.”

His office wasn’t where interviews were usually held—far too personal, far too… revealing. But for some reason, he wanted to gauge you himself. Maybe it was your naivete; maybe it was the way your gaze lingered on the crystal chandeliers and plush carpets like you’d never seen luxury this close before. You were looking at him as a normal boss, not a criminal mastermind, and he realized he might like that.

By the time you’d been seated in the chair across from his polished mahogany desk for only 15 minutes, he was already hooked. He asked simple questions at first—your availability, your experience—but quickly veered into territory that let him know more about you. Your classes at Gotham U were interesting, but you worked too much to fully appreciate them. You loved your psychology major but struggled with scheduling, hoping that the pay here was more than the measly pay you scrounged from your other two jobs. He listened with great interest as you spoke of your genuine excitement to be working in a "classy place like this."

He didn’t have the heart to tell you this place wasn’t really classy—just good at pretending.

Cobblepot tilted his head, the curiosity in his expression sharpening as he tapped a finger against the arm of his chair. “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked, a sly grin forming. “So, what do you think of our little city?”

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously, shifting in your seat. “It’s… something, that’s for sure. Gotham’s kinda like… I don’t know, a scrappy mutt? It bites, like, a lot, but you can’t help but wanna pet it anyway. It’s scrappy and loveable.”

Oswald chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “Lovable?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one. Most people run for the hills when it comes to Gotham.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “I’m already here, so I might as well figure it out, y’know? Plus, it’s not all bad. I mean, the people are tough, and the city’s got… personality. A weird, messed-up personality, but still.”

He found himself appreciating your honesty. It was a rare thing in his world—people who weren’t either trying to butter him up or wring him dry. And that smile… Hm. Something about it didn’t belong here.

Then, the door to his office slammed open. A goon stumbled in without so much as a knock, huffing like a dog chasing its own tail as he fumbled a thick stack of papers in his hands.

Oswald snapped to attention so fast it was animalistic. One second, he was relaxed, bemused by you—the next, his face contorted with fury, his lips curling back in a snarl that made the dim office feel suddenly suffocating.

“What?” Cobblepot snarled, his tone cutting like ice. The very air in the room seemed to turn electric, humming with the promise of violence.

The goon froze mid-step, eyes darting between you and his boss. He looked like he’d just walked into an execution chamber by mistake.

Oswald’s teeth clenched so tight a vein throbbed visibly in his temple. “You knock before coming into my office,” he seethed, voice dropping to something far more dangerous than the initial explosion. Cold. Calculating. A blade slipping between ribs. “You wait. You don’t—”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you.

Frozen.

Wide-eyed.

And just like that, the change was immediate.

His snarl vanished. The storm passed in an instant, like flicking off a switch. The barely-contained rabid rage that had been twisting his face smoothed into something almost… embarrassed. Guiltily casual.

Cobblepot glanced back at you, then at the goon, then back at you. For a brief, telling second, he looked—not regretful, but calculating. Then he sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off an unpleasant thought.

"Handle it later," he ordered, voice abruptly warm. Silk-soft. As if he hadn’t just been inches from taking a man’s head off. His hand flicked lazily toward the door, a dismissive gesture. “Can’t you see I’m with someone?”

The goon scuttled out of the room like a kicked dog, the papers in his hands rustling violently as he clutched them to his chest.

The moment the door shut, Oswald let out a measured breath, as if centering himself. Then, in a whiplash-inducing shift, he turned back to you with an awkward, almost sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that,” he said, voice dripping with artificial sweetness, as if his outburst had never happened. He waved a hand, dismissing it entirely, his gaze keenly watching your expression for any lasting tension. “Some of my employees just don’t have any manners.”

You offered a polite, thin smile, still shaken, but brushed it off with a shrug. You had already figured this place wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming, but the speed at which his fury had vanished was... unsettling.

Oswald noticed.

He noticed everything.

And for the first time in a long, long while… he wasn’t sure if he liked the way your smile still had a hint of nerves clinging to it.

The Batcave was unusually quiet, save for the faint tapping of Tim’s keyboard and the low hum of the monitors. Bruce sat at the console, watching the live feed from Oswald Cobblepot’s office. You were seated across from the Penguin, a mixture of nerves and polite excitement etched on your face. The Iceberg Lounge’s chandelier lights reflected in your wide eyes as you gestured animatedly, your Gotham University sweater and résumé betraying your earnestness in a city that thrived on deception.

“Can’t decide if she’s brave or just clueless,” Tim remarked, leaning back slightly as he toggled between camera feeds. “She walked into Cobblepot’s lair with a résumé. A résumé, Bruce.”

“She’s a student trying to make ends meet. That’s not bravery—it’s necessity.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the comms. “She really responded to a ‘help wanted’ ad? Tt. Typical. Of course that bloated bird would choose a naive one. She’ll probably end up scrubbing vomit out of his VIP lounge carpets.”

Tim tutted thoughtfully at Damian’s comment. “I mean…..he’s probably aiming higher than janitorial work for her. Did you hear the way he sweetened his voice?”

Damian scoffed but didn't reply. 

A new voice broke in over the comms—Dick, speaking from his position on patrol. “You think she knows what she’s getting into? Working there isn’t exactly safe.”

“She doesn’t,” Bruce answered simply, “But that doesn’t make her unique. Plenty of people stumble into Gotham’s underworld without realizing it. We can’t save everyone.”

Tim muttered, “Still doesn’t mean we should ignore it. If Penguin’s targeting her for something, we’ll want to know why.”

Damian chimed in again, his tone slightly mocking. “We already know why, Drake. He likes his toys naïve, optimistic, and disposable. She won’t last a week before she gets a reality check—or worse.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked toward the feed as Cobblepot stood, offering you a hand and gesturing toward the door. “They’re moving,” Bruce said. “Tim, keep the office feed rolling, and find another camera angle.” 

“We won’t have audio and depending on where he’s taking her, I’m not sure we’ll have visuals either.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the Batcave.

Dick broke it. “She’s smart enough to know what Cobblepot is, right? I mean, who walks into the Iceberg Lounge thinking it’s just a nightclub?”

“People who don’t know Gotham,” Tim replied, scrolling through files, soaking in what he can on you. “..She’s a psych major at Gotham U, full-time. She’s been juggling two jobs already, so she’s probably just desperate for the paycheck.”

Damian’s tone turned sharper. “Desperation or not, she’s still a fool. You don’t wear a sweater with your university’s name on it when you waltz into the lion’s den.”

Tim smirked. “Guess she didn’t take Gotham’s prerequisite: Street Smarts 101.”

The screen now displayed the empty office, Cobblepot’s desk abandoned. You were out of their sight, and for the moment, out of their reach. But the Batfamily wasn’t about to let you disappear into the darkness of Gotham without a trace. Tim was scrambling to find a feed that would give them info as to where Cobblepot’s taking you, but at the very least, they have relevant info on you.

Dick’s voice again. “Did you hear her in that interview? ‘Lovable but scrappy.’” He smiled faintly at the words. “She actually likes Gotham. We should keep it that way.”

Tim again, confirming some details. “Transferred to Gotham U from out of state. No criminal record, no red flags.”

Damian’s voice cut in, sharp and dry. “Other than walking into the Iceberg Lounge with a résumé. That’s a red flag for stupidity.”

Dick countered, his tone softer now. “She doesn’t know any better. Give her a break.”

Jason laughed, his voice snarky over the comms line from his own patrol. “Oh, sure, Grayson. Let’s all gather around and shield her from the big bad city. What’s next, care packages?”

Dick sighed audibly, “Don’t you have a crime boss to scare right now?”

Jason chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Already done. You should’ve seen the look on his face. Priceless.” Another faint noise came through, likely the reloading of a gun.

Bruce’s voice cut through before Dick could respond. “Enough. Focus, Jason.”

“Whatever you say, B,” Jason replied breezily, though the teasing lilt was still in his voice. “I’ll keep an eye out, too, just in case our scrappy little friend stirs up any trouble at the Iceberg.”

Damian snorted. “I’ll enjoy seeing Cobblepot’s face when she quits.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on your face, captured mid-smile on the monitor. Quietly, he murmured, “She’ll need another job. A safe one. I’m sure Wayne Enterprises will have something available for her.”

“Keep me updated,” Batman ordered as he stood, his cape swishing as he headed toward the Batmobile. “If she gets in over her head, we’re pulling her out. No debates.”

Damian’s voice came back, quieter this time, reluctant. “She’s already in over her head.”

Little did they know, Oswald Cobblepot’s schemes for you were the furthest thing from exploitative labor. In his mind, the idea of you actually toiling away with a mop and bucket was quickly becoming unthinkable—borderline offensive, even.

The moment he saw the way your eyes sparkled with hope and determination, and saw the way you'd listed your good grades on your resume in a hopeful attempt at impressing him and proving your aptitudes, he’d decided he’d let you sleep on the job if you wanted to. Hell, he’d set up a whole suite in the back of the Lounge if it kept you close and content. You could waste time dusting the empty liquor shelves or filing nonexistent paperwork all day if it made you feel productive. What mattered to him wasn’t what you did—it was that you were here, where he could keep an eye on you.

But of course, Cobblepot wouldn't admit that to himself. Not yet, at least. No, this was just “good business,” he rationalized. You were a valuable asset—your charm and friendliness were enough to lighten up even the Iceberg’s darkest corners. You had a way of making the whole place feel... welcoming and warm, like you were untouched by Gotham’s grime and crime. Plus you wanted to be productive. He scoffed under his breath, amused. Of course one of the first fresh faces ready to work at the Lounge was also someone who he didn’t dream of involving in his actual operations. Just his luck.

So, if you decided you needed an afternoon nap in the dusty janitorial closet? He’d send a goon to bring you a pillow. If you scoured the cleaning supply catalog for hours without actually ordering anything? He’d find it endearing. As long as you were happy and oblivious to the underworld swirling just beneath the Lounge’s polished surface, you could do whatever you wanted.

Unbeknownst to them all, while they debated your safety, Oswald was sitting back in his office, already plotting ways to make your life easier. Sure, he’d keep up the charade of being your boss for now—keep you busy with harmless tasks so you didn’t get suspicious. But he wasn’t about to let you work too hard. Not his sweet, naive new hire.

You didn’t belong in Gotham’s shadows. And as far as Oswald Cobblepot was concerned, he’d make sure you never had to find out just how dark they could get. Or at least, he’d try. 

By the time Oswald walked you to the janitorial closet—a tiny, forgotten room in the back of the lounge—he was already plotting how to keep you close. The closet was practically empty, a detail that normally wouldn’t bother him, but the way your face fell at the sight made him want to slap whoever was supposed to manage the damn place.

"Um… is this where I’m supposed to… work?" you asked softly, your voice unsure as you peeked into the empty closet. Your eyes darted around, taking in the barren shelves and dusty floor, as though you’d missed some hidden stash of supplies. "It just… doesn’t look ready yet?"

"Ah… this won’t do," he said quickly, covering his irritation with a smooth smile. "Looks like someone’s dropped the ball here. Don’t you worry about this, darlin’. I’ll get one of my guys on it—someone reliable. You’ll have everything you need to get started." 

His tone was honeyed, and though he aimed for casual reassurance, his sharp eyes flickered to the shelves like he wanted to set the whole closet ablaze for offending you. For fuck’s sake.

“No, no, this won’t do at all,” Oswald said again, shaking his head and clucking his tongue like he was personally offended by the state of the janitorial closet. “You deserve better than this mess, darlin’. I’ll have it sorted by tomorrow, you have my word.”

You blinked at him, “If you want me on the job today, I can make something work,” you offered tentatively, gesturing toward the dusty shelves. “I’ve been in worse spots before.” You gave him a sheepish smile, trying to seem accommodating.

Cobblepot scoffed softly, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, absolutely not. I won’t have my new employee starting off in such... subpar conditions. It’s a poor reflection on me, and I can’t have that, now can I?” He straightened his tie with an air of exaggerated importance before leaning on his cane. “Here’s what we’ll do instead. You take the night to get familiar with the Lounge—on the house, of course. Have some drinks, relax, mingle a bit. Consider it my way of welcoming you to the team.”

You blinked again, even more confused. “Oh, um, that’s really generous, but shouldn’t I, like… fill out some paperwork first? Or sign something?”

Oswald chuckled, a warm, low sound that almost made you feel silly for asking. “Paperwork? We’ll handle all that boring nonsense tomorrow. No need to rush into the dull parts of the job, eh?” He gestured toward the door, ushering you back into the main lounge. “For tonight, enjoy yourself. Swing by the bar, meet some of the staff, maybe say hello to the security team. It’s important to me that you feel comfortable at the Iceberg.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was some sort of test, but his expression was disarmingly sincere. “Well… if you’re sure…”

“Positive,” he interrupted, clapping a hand on your shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Now, off you go. The night’s young, and the Lounge is at your disposal.”

As you stepped out of the closet and back into the opulent main floor, you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a smile that seemed too genuine for someone of his reputation. You didn’t know him, but you’d heard some things. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cobblepot wasn’t just offering you free alcohol or a night to relax—he was staking his claim. He wanted you to feel at home, to see the Lounge as a safe haven, a place you’d always want to return to. Sure, there’d be paperwork eventually, but for now, the only thing that mattered was keeping you here, comfortable and unaware of the darker dealings hidden beneath the glamour.

Tim leaned back in his chair, toggling between the camera feeds inside the Iceberg Lounge. He was alone in the Batcave now, the others out on patrol in the city. “Well, there she is,” he muttered, zeroing in on his view of you at the bar. You were perched on a sleek barstool, your Gotham University sweater a stark contrast to the high-end fashion of the Lounge’s usual clientele. “She’s… drinking. A lot.”

Jason, freshly back from patrol—or what little of it he actually bothered to finish—sauntered into the Batcave, pulling off his helmet and setting it down with a thud. “That’s her?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

“Yeah,” Tim replied without looking away. “You decided to show up?” His eyes flickered to the time down at the bottom of his monitor. "Thirty minutes early? B's not gonna be thrilled."

Jason ignored the jab, stepping closer to get a better look. “Huh,” he muttered, crossing his arms as his sharp eyes drank you in. You were laughing at something the bartender said, your cheeks flushed. You gestured animatedly with your glass while saying something they couldn't hear. “She doesn’t look like much.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Jason. “That’s what you cut patrol short for? To see her in person?”

Jason shrugged, his gaze fixed on you. “I was curious. Heard you and Damian going back and forth about her. Figured I’d check it out for myself.” His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Didn’t expect her to be… this.”

Tim tilted his head. “This what?”

Jason gestured vaguely at the screen. “This… normal. Sweater, messy hair, drinking like she’s celebrating her midterms being over. Doesn’t scream ‘Iceberg Lounge material,’ y’know?”

Tim chuckled, toggling to another camera feed for a better angle. “That’s kind of the point. She thought she was interviewing for a janitorial position, Jason. Janitorial.”

Jason blinked, then snorted. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “She walked in there with a résumé—an actual paper résumé—and asked about cleaning floors or whatever. Cobblepot probably laughed his ass off before offering her a drink.”

“He’s footing the bill by the way,” Tim added, toggling to a feed that showed the Penguin subtly watching you from across the room as he conversed with some guests. “She hasn’t reached for her wallet once. He’s just… letting her.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Penguin’s expression. There was no malice there yet, no obvious scheme in motion. Instead, Cobblepot looked almost… satisfied, like he was pleased with what he was seeing. “The hell’s his angle?” Jason muttered, his top lip curling in disgust at the possibilities.

“No idea,” Tim replied. “But if I had to guess? He’s trying to butter her up. Make her think the Lounge is a safe place, keep her happy and oblivious while he decides what to do with her.”

Jason scoffed, leaning back against the console.”She won’t last a week.”

Tim smirked. “You’re awfully invested for someone who just met her. Maybe you should prep a care package.”

“I didn’t meet her,” Jason shot back, though his eyes flicked back to the screen almost involuntarily. “I’m just saying, someone needs to give her a reality check before she gets eaten alive.”

“Maybe,” Tim said, watching as you swayed slightly to the music, chatting with another patron who’d joined you at the bar. “But she doesn’t look like she’s in danger. Yet.”

Jason grunted, pushing off the console and grabbing his helmet. “Yeah, well, I’m keeping an eye on this one. If Penguin tries anything, I’m ending it.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re helping? Didn’t you just skip the last half of your patrol?”

Jason smirked as he turned toward the exit. “Hey, monitoring Gotham’s underworld is part of the job, isn’t it? I’m just doing my part.”

Tim shook his head with a laugh as Jason disappeared up the stairs. “Sure you are.”

Back on the screen, you were oblivious to the scrutiny, to the way the curiosities of Gotham's vigilantes were beginning to blossom into something more.

[hoe4sports]

The ballerina mouse

-A part of the musli universe

A/N: At last, a new piece of the musli universe. You can find the series here. There will be a new piece of "without you" very soon.

Summary: This is a piece with a shorter timespan, more so of a situation. This is just to bring some background information to the story.

-

“But, I don’t understand” you whisperss with furrowed brows, confused as to why things haven’t worked out like Leah and Alessia told you it was supposed to. You had marked it down on the little calendar with little cats drawn on it that Leah got you for Christmas last year. Everything was supposed to be okay by now, settled and signed. You were supposed to belong with Leah and Alessia. Like a real family. Have your name on the mailbox next to theirs. But once again, things hadn’t worked out like it was supposed to.

Your feet dangled from your bed as you watched the floor between your two moms, or what was supposed to be your moms by now.

“Sweetheart, i know it’s hard to understand the process. We thought it would be done by now, but the decision will take a little longer than what we expected.” Alessia pleaded as she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You nodded as you sighed quietly enough for only you to hear. Maybe this whole adoption thing was too good to be true, you think in a whisper way to yourself as if you feel scared that someone might read your thoughts.

It has been 2 years since you came to Alessia and Leah after being shuffled around between homes unfit for kids. A year since they started the process of making you a forever part of their home. The social worker had explained that in your situations it normally took no longer than a year, so you added that to your equation of chaos.

“Could you maybe explain it again?” You sniffled out, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your soft pink fleece. You want to understand what she’s was saying, you really do; but it’s like your brain can’t comprehend it. Like there aren’t enough words in the English language for you to understand. Why can’t you just be there forever? You don’t know anyone else anymore. When you were young, your mommy and daddy never had siblings or parents. You have grandparents now, even uncles and aunts, and very soon, you’ll have a fifth cousin.

Leah and Alessia shares a sad look between them before Leah squats down to your level. Her gaze tries to meet yours, but your eyes are glued to your feet. It feels like looking into Leah’s eyes will make the sky come crashing down. Or worse, it might cause you to cry. You still don’t like crying in-front of Leah and Alessia. You don’t know that yet, but the habit is something that will stick with you for the rest of your life. You believe that if you cry, then perhaps they’ll change their minds about adopting you, and besides losing your guardian angel pocket mouse; that’s just about the worst thing that could happen.

“When someone wants to make a child a part of their forever family, there are social workers that need to make sure that everything is done right. Sometimes, that takes a little longer time than usual.” Leah explains softly while you nod. You sort of understand it, but you don’t want to realise the consequences of what would happen if someone were to want you back. You don’t understand why anyone would want to have you back, not after leaving you to fend for yourself for this long.

“Does that mean that someone can take me away, again?” You whisper, a single tear rolling down your chin before catching it with your tumb.

Leah and Alessia don’t know what to say. They have agreed between themselves to not keep secrets and to avoid lying to you. Lying causes trust to break, that’s what the social workers have said anyway. But it hurts Leah and Alessia to have to explain the legal battle that they are having to go through. Alessia doesn’t think it’s appropriate for a child your age to know all of these things; but Leah has her heart set on honesty. Age appropriate honesty anyway.

“It’s not that easy, baby” Alessia whispers out. You take notice of the puzzled look on her face, and it makes you feel insecure. Her face looks sad, and you just about now notice the redness under her eyes. She doesn’t have the answers because nobody does. Not even the social worker that tried to explain this to you earlier this morning.

You look over at Musli, your favourite ragdoll cat with what you assume is the softest fur in the world. He looks over at you before standing up into a deep stretch and walking over to you. His little act brings a small smile to your face. His little head bonks your leg. Your hand reaches down to pet him, and he instantly purrs as he bounces up into your lap.

“But, are you gonna not be my mommies until they have made up their minds about what to do with me?” You mumble. A part of you doesn’t want any answers. It makes you feel like you are a bag of trash that needs to be taken care of. If you could stay in foster care forever then maybe that would be the best. Nobody could take you away because there wouldn’t be an adoption and you would only belong with Leah and Alessia on pretend. Maybe you only belong until you are big enough to get a job or maybe until they decide to have a real child. The thought of them having a real child scares you; what if it is a girl? Then you’ll no longer be their little girl anymore. You just wanna stay here with Leah, Alessia and Musli. The dissociation makes you shut out Leah’s talking, and you nod along as she explains. You don’t realize that they have left the room until Musli hops down from your lap.

It’s been a while since you arrived, their first placement. A traumatized 3 year old turned into a somewhat hopeful 5 year old. By now, you had lived more with your new mommies than your real parents. It felt strange, how your family was torn apart once. Then again and again and again. Your attachment issues becoming worse with every new placement until you ended up with Leah and Alessia in what was just crumbles of a 3 year old. They took the time to pick up all the pieces of you that had been spread around like broken porcelain and glued you back together piece by piece until you were close to whole. The only issue with that, is that just like broken porcelain that gets glued together will have cracks, so will you.

-

The next morning, you wake up early. The birds can be heard chirping through the window, and you could swear that the sun is about to peek through your window. Your house is quiet, that means that Leah and Alessia are still fast asleep. That is one of the things you like about not having siblings. Nobody wakes up before you on weekends. Only you and your trusty companion, Musli, is awake. He lies in the corner, in the soft bed next to your guardian angel house. It’s a big pink play house from Maileg. You had wished for the guardian angel mouse as soon as you saw it; it was the same mouse you got from your mom. It was your most prized possesion before your last foster home decided that you had to share it with their daughter, who eventually lost it. You cried for months when it disappeared.

Your feet settles into the big rug on the floor and you shuffle over to the play house. It’s nicely decorated, Leah had splurged on the house and the furniture. She even purchased all the accessories money could buy. Maileg isn't cheap, it was a ridiculously expensive Danish brand. Leah remembers Alessia’s face when she told her that she spent 25 £ on just the tiny wooden loveseat for the dollhouse. But Leah didn’t care about prices or costs, she only cared about how she had a little girl to spoil. If that mean spending thousands of pounds, she would happily swipe her card.

The mother mouse is sitting in the kitchen, with a news paper and a pink metal cup with gold details. The mama mouse is sitting in the living room watching tv while having a plate of cookies in front of her. Then, there is the little ballerina mouse. She’s a small mouse, just a child; but she’s a ballerina with a soft pink tutu. She’s in her bedroom, all by herself; tucked away where she feels the safest. Her door is open, a reminder of how she’s allowed out of her room at any time of the day. You sigh when you see it because you remember what Leah said about keeping your door close. So, you get up from the floor and you grab the handle of the door before slightly pulling the door open. The door was meant to act as a gentle reminder that you are welcome to play downstairs or come into their bedroom in the mornings; but even after close to three years, you still don’t feel comfortable.

Muesli sits down next to you once again return to the floor. He purrs loudly before stretching himself out next to you. Ragdolls tend to be big, some even as big as 15 kg. But Muesli is only 7kg, even though he is almost as long as your carpet. You pick up the mommy mouse before placing it next to Muesli, you even place it in his fur making sure that he dosent feel left out of the roleplay.

"Here you go, musli" you whisper, earning a bonk on your hand from the furry friend. For a split second, you imagine what it would be like if you had a sibling instead of Musli. But, that would mean that you could be replaced. That their real child would come first, and you'd hopefully come second. It wouldn't be an issue for you, you like to play with other kids and in many of the foster families you have been through; you had siblings. It's not the sibling itself you had issues with, it was the parents and how they seemed to favoritize their real child meaning you would get the blame for anything, and you´d be the one that gets left behind.

You remember how once a family told you that they would be going to Paris for a weekend, and oblivious little you believed that they would bring you too. So when the departure day came, and you stood ready all excited with your little backpack all ready; they told you that there were crackers and peaches in the kitchen, and that you could take pizza from the counter. That day, you stood in the doorway squatted down to watch through the cat door as the family left you behind. You don't realize it yet, but one day; people will be cheering your name as you secure victory after victory across the biggest stages in the world.

You reach for the special guardian angel mouse that's hiding in the closet of the ballerina mouse’s room. She pretends to cross the room to head downstairs where she grabs some bread and cheese. The food gets brought back up to the ballerina mouse’s room, but not before checking to make sure that nobody can see her. She hands the food over to the little ballerina mouse who accepts the food before hiding behind her desk to eat it. She dosent want to be a burden, she only wants to do good, she only wants to act good. To be a good little mouse. So that perhaps, one day; someone might want her.

In the middel of the play, you hear a door squeal. You instantly freeze up, the mouse falling from your hand onto the carper. Musli instantly gets up, and bonks himself on your shoulder as he purrs. His purrs is enough to make you decompress. Your gaze is glued to the floor, and you sit completely still, to the point of not breathing. As the anxiety sets in, you decide to shut your eyes. Hiding in your closet isn't at option, as you feel frozen to the ground.

"Y/N? Are you up already?" A voice speaks. The voice seems to be similar to Leah´s, but you are not sure. You remember how your fosters told you that when people are talking to you, your ears can lie and make you believe that you heard something different than what actually was said. So if your foster dad said that you were useless, he might've said that you were kind instead. At least, that is what they wanted you to believe.

"Y/N?" The voice speaks softly, a little closer this time. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you open your eyes to see Leah. Your shoulders instantly relaxes, and the coldness you have carried around this morning suddenly feels warm and toasty. "Are you playing with you mice?" Leah asks, sitting down next to you. You smile and nod your head eagerly.

"I like my mice" you say softly, picking up the mama mouse. "This is you" you said holding it towards Leah, she accepts it and smiles. "And this is Alessia" you say, holding up the mommy mouse. "And who is this?" Leah asks, pointing towards the little ballerina mouse. You look over at the mouse, and starts to fiddle with your pink pyjamas.

After gathering courage for a minute, you point to yourself. "Is it you?" Leah asks, picking it up from behind the bed where it has been hiding. You don't say anything, but you let out a small hmm. "Did she have a sleepover?" Leah asks, looking at you with a soft smile.

"No" you speak, your voice low. "Hmmm, did she fall behind her bed when she slept?" she asks, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "no" you say, still unsure about whether to explain to her why your favorite mouse was hiding.

"It is scared" you say, picking up a baby mouse before fiddling with its tail. "Oh? It's scared huh? Well, does it want to tell the Leah mouse why?" she asks curiously, placing the ballerina mouse in her bed. "maybe" you whisper, having Leah in the corner of your eye.

Leah pulls out her pretending voice out and walks the Leah mouse into the ballerina mouse´s room. "oh no, my little ballerina mouse, what's wrong?" she says, hopping over to the bed before sitting down on the floor in the ballerina mouse´s room.

Your hand reaches for the little ballerina mouse, and you make the mouse hide her head in her tiny arms. "Oh no, does my little ballerina mouse need a mama hug?" Leah urges, tapping the ballerina mouse on her shoulder. The ballerina mouse nods, and the mama mouse wraps her tiny mouse arms around the ballerina. Leah leans towards you before pulling you into her arms, you relax your shoulders; it feel safe. Leah makes you feel safe.

"What's on your mind, my little mouse?" Leah asks as you listen to her steady heartbeat. "Im scared" you whisper out, and for a second you cannot believe that you just said that. But you remember that your mommy always said that you could trust people that are trusted by animals. And so you do. You pour your heart out, about how you are scared that they won't go through with the adoption. That this is an excuse for not wanting to deal with you anymore. That this somehow sends you back to one of your old fosterfamilies. And Leah? She listens, she dosent argue or talk back or tell you to shut up, she listens until you stop rambling.

"We would never send you back, ever. You are a part of our family now. I can't promise that you will never have siblings, but I can promise that you will never be considered anything less than another baby. And if you feel sad in your heart, then I really wish that you can talk to me or Less about it, okay? " Leah offered, looking out in the room.

You nod.

"Im thankful for that you spoke up about it, I love you so much" Leah says, folding her arms tighter around you and you hug her back. "How about some pancakes for breakfast, hm?" your eyes widen and you nod eagerly before jumping up from Leah´s lap and sprinting downstairs, your giggles spreading around the house.

"The last person to the kitchen is a rotten mouse!"

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When You’re on Your Period

Fluff

JJK men x f! or uterus owning reader (no pronouns used)

This was a request from a Wattpad user but I hope you all enjoy it here as well :)

Warnings: mentions of blood

Note: some scenarios you're dating, some you aren't, but all have romantic/caring undertones!

Yuji:

You texted Yuji, devastated that your date plans were now ruined by the onslaught of your period. You were dealing with cramps that were far too painful to allow you to go anywhere and enjoy yourself so you opted to stay home, rescheduling for another time. Of course, Yuji came over immediately, your faithful boyfriend not wanting you to suffer alone.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you, babe?"

Yuji was staring at you with those big puppy dog eyes you adored and for a split second, all the pain you were feeling from your cramps seized.

"I'm sure," you said, squeezing out a small smile while trying not to groan at the discomfort that came back, "but thank you anyway. I really appreciate you asking."

"I just hate to see you in pain like this every month."

Now he was frowning. You were about to tell him not to worry about it, as it was something you just got accustomed to over the years, but his face lit up and you knew he had a great idea cross his mind.

"How about I make some snacks and we can watch movies all night! I know that always makes me feel better!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his determination, grateful for such a sweet boyfriend.

Megumi:

"What's wrong? Your sparring hasn't been very good all day."

Megumi never minced his words and while you usually loved his brutal honesty, today was the one day where you really took what he said to heart. Trying not to cry from frustration, you silently grabbed your bag, eager to leave the training area before you would burst into tears.

"Y/n, wait, I'm sorry," Megumi said, not wanting you to leave, "I didn't mean to make you upset-"

"I'm on my period, everything hurts, and I just want to lay down," you pleaded.

Megumi's eyes widened before settling back into his neutral expression. "Go get some rest, I'll make you tea. Do you have painkillers and a heating pad?"

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "I do, and thank you for asking, but... how do you know about all of that stuff?"

"Tsumiki," he said, bashfully rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I used to help her during her... time of the month."

You pulled Megumi into a bone crushing hug, catching him off guard at first before he melted into your embrace.

"She was extremely lucky to have you around," you murmured into his hair, "as am I."

Yuta:

The ever perceptive boy he was, Yuta noticed you were acting off all day but he didn't know how to approach the subject because a) he's so awkward with his words around you, and b) he didn't want to make you any more upset than you already were. However, he wasn't going to watch you struggle by yourself without at least offering some semblance of help so he swallowed his fear and greeted you as you tore through the cabinets of the common kitchen.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked, sporting a kind smile.

"I could've sworn I had a whole stash of chocolate bars in here somewhere," you muttered.

"Oh, those? I think I saw Gojo sensei eating them last week."

You froze. "What?"

Yuta suddenly felt scared as he saw your face darken. "Y-yeah, he has a sweet tooth, a-and, you know, I didn't know who they belonged to or else I would've told you-"

"It's not your fault, Yuta, don't worry about it. Thanks for telling me."

He watched as you began to get up from the ground, your expression contorting into a grimace. He hurried over to you to help you stand, lifting you by your hand.

"Are you alright? I've noticed you haven't been yourself all day and I didn't want to be rude by asking, but now it looks like you're in pain and I'm worried."

Yuta and his word vomit made you smile for the first time in nearly a week. "You're always so sweet. Yes, I'm alright, I'm on my period and I've had some pretty bad cramps."

He nodded in understanding. "That explains the chocolate. I know where Toge keeps a stash of his own if you want me to show you!"

"I would love that," you said, bringing him into a hug that left him a blushing mess.

Inumaki:

You were currently sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone and wishing the throbbing discomfort from your period would stop, even if for only a moment. You were pulled from your mindless social media swiping by a knock at your door.

"Come in!"

Toge entered your room, multiple bags hanging from his arms that he unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Out tumbled a barrage of snacks, both sweet and salty. He also brought over a video game console that he, thankfully, had put down earlier before throwing everything on the ground.

"Tuna tuna!" he chirped happily.

"It looks like you're moving in," you replied, laughing, "but seriously, thank you for coming over. You always make me feel better."

You saw his eyes crinkle with joy, meaning underneath his collar, he was smiling as well. All of a sudden you were hit with a wave of pain and you grabbed onto your stomach, taking in a sharp breath. Toge was quick to hold your hand and lead you to the couch, also grabbing your heating pad and a blanket so you could get comfortable. He then placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before typing a message on his phone.

Don't worry, kitten whiskers, daddy's here to take care of you.

Shaking your head, you replied, "You are such a weirdo."

He grinned mischievously. But you love me anyway.

"Unfortunately."

Noritoshi:

"Hey, you left your book in my room so I brought it back-woah, what happened in here?"

When you were on your period, you found it difficult to stay on top of your daily chores, thus the reason why your room looked like a disaster and why Noritoshi was very concerned for your wellbeing.

"Ugh, I'm sorry for the mess," you said, sitting up with a groan. You had a bad headache and no energy to clean up the piles of clothes and other discarded items. "I'm on my period and just have no motivation whatsoever."

"I see," he replied. "Don't worry. You get some rest and I'll help clean up a bit if that's alright."

"Are you sure? I know you're probably really busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, y/n."

You felt your face warm as he gave you a small smile and began working: folding clean clothes neatly, throwing away trash, putting items back on shelves. In no time, your room was as spotless as the day you moved in--or more so.

"If there's anything else I can do to help, please, text or call me. I won't hesitate to come back over," he said earnestly.

"Thank you so much for doing that, it means a lot to me," you told him.

"It's the least I could do. I'll see you around," he said from the threshold.

He paused.

"Do you like tea?" he suddenly called from over his shoulder.

"I do."

He hummed in acknowledgment and closed the door behind him.

A half hour later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, there was no one there, but you were greeted with a to go cup and a note written in the most beautiful handwriting.

My family's special tea remedy. I hope this helps with any pain. Feel better soon.

K.N.

Todo:

You were out shopping with your boyfriend Aoi when you felt a strange sensation wash over you, looking off into the distance akin to Alice from Twilight when she got struck by visions. In a flash, you were shouting apologies to Aoi while running to the bathroom. Luckily, you had somehow made it to the toilet before your period had fully begun, your keen senses saving your outfit. However, you didn't have any menstrual products with you. You sat in the stall for a long while, going over your choices in this situation. You could try waiting for someone to come in, ask them for a pad or tampon, but it was a quiet area and you didn't foresee a whole ton of people coming in. You could also do the famous "toilet paper pad" but those were never reliable and usually led to an even bigger mess. You sighed, reaching for your phone. Your boyfriend was going to have to come to your rescue.

You: sorry I just started my period and don't have anything with me

You: could you pls buy me some pads/tampons? <3

Todolly Hot bf: OF COURSE BABY JUST HANG TIGHT

Todolly Hot bf: :D

Not even 5 minutes later, you got another text.

Todolly Hot bf: ILL BE RIGHT THERE

You heard Aoi's loud voice boom from outside the bathroom.

"Y/n! I'm coming in!"

You first saw his hair peeking over the top of the stall, then you were greeted with the sound of a plethora of products as he shuffled through his bag, eagerly telling you what he bought.

"I got regular, maxi, super maxi, long regular with wings, super extra long maxi with extra long wings..."

As he continued on in the background, you smiled at how lucky you were to have such a doting partner.

Ino:

You felt bad for turning down Ino's invitation to go out, but you just weren't in the mood to be in public right now. Your period was making everything a hassle and you wanted to just relax at home. To no one's surprise, Ino showed up at your door in hopes of making you feel a little better. What did surprise you, though, was the huge basket of goodies he was currently holding.

"I got you a little something," he said, his boyish grin on full display.

"That's like, 10 things more than a little, Ino," you said with a laugh.

"I felt bad because I don't know exactly what you're going through but I do know what it's like to feel down so I hope this can kinda help with that at least."

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You really know how to make me feel special."

Ino became meek, blushing at your affection, before an excited look took over his face. "Babe! You have to see this right now."

He thrust something soft into your grasp.

"It's a shark plushie! You know, 'cuz the whole shark... week... thing..."

You could tell Ino was rethinking that sentence as it came out of his mouth but even though it was cheesy, you still loved the gift and the thought that went behind it.

Gojo:

"Satoru, I love you, but if you don't be quiet right now I will literally smother you."

"Huh? You usually love the sound of my perfectly on key voice."

You boyfriend was busy singing badly to a song on his phone and you, thanks to your period, had a raging headache, making your patience as thin as a credit card.

"While true, I'm not on my period those other days."

"Thankfully."

That earned him a smack on the arm. "I'm going to sit on the couch. My cordless heat pad broke and that's the only place the other one's cord will reach."

You gave him a kiss and set off for the family room, leaving him alone. He didn't really know how to take care of someone, but he had his own love language that you learned, over time, was how he showed he cared: gift giving.

Immediately, Satoru got on his phone and bought the nicest, most expensive cordless heat pad the market had to offer, scheduled to be delivered at his door step in less than 3 hours. Feeling bad for unknowingly annoying you, he researched things that could help with period pains so he could make it up to you. He quickly made his way to you and stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles, all while giving you a smirk that spelled trouble.

"Get comfy, baby. I'm giving you a massage."

Geto:

"Talk to me, my love. What's going on?"

You had woken up feeling horrible, your period wreaking havoc on your body. Your stomach was the next thing to betray you and now you were locked in the bathroom, crying because of how horrible you felt. You knew Suguru would be worried for you, but you found it hard to find the words to describe the hell you were in at that moment.

"Darling?"

"Sorry, Suguru, I just don't feel good at all. My period is really messing with me," you managed to sputter out in between tears.

"Oh honey," his soft voice soothed through the closed door, "I'm sorry. Let me help you. I'll get your heating pad ready and some water for pain medicine, okay?"

When you were finished in the bathroom, you saw that your boyfriend had made an oasis in your bedroom. The curtains were drawn, the lights were low, relaxing music was playing in the background, your heating pad was set up with a glass of water and a cup of tea on your nightstand.

"I'll draw you a bath later," he purred, taking a hold of your hand and walking you to your bed. He smoothed the hair away from your forehead as you laid back down, giving you a sweet kiss on the exposed skin.

"Rest well, my love."

Nanami:

"L/n, are you feeling okay? Forgive my bluntness, but you look distressed."

And distressed you were. You were on the worst day of your period, your flow giving you unending problems like nausea and pain, and of course this had to happen while you were working. You didn't want to make Kento uncomfortable by telling him your personal details, but you knew he wouldn't be satisfied without a real answer.

"I'm on my period," you confessed, sparing him the details.

"Oh, I see."

Silence.

He spoke up again. "If I may, would you allow me to cook you dinner tonight? You'll need some rest after the work day is finished. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

Naturally, you accepted, and that's why Kento was in your kitchen that evening, filling your apartment with the most mouthwatering aromas.

"I made chicken with a sauce featuring ginger and turmeric, along with sides of spinach and quinoa," he explained, serving you. "There's plenty of iron, protein, and anti inflammatory properties in this dish, all of which should help you during this time of the month."

When he placed your plate in front of you, you gently grasped his hand before it left your reach. "Thank you. For all of this."

He had a look of surprise that melted into a tender gaze. "Of course. I'm always here for you."

Choso:

You were struggling for your life on your couch. Okay, not really, but it felt like one wrong move and you'd bleed out for good. Being on your period was never fun, but having an attentive boyfriend certainly was.

"Y/n? More tea?"

"Can I get you a heating pad?"

"Which blanket would you like?"

"Would you like a massage?"

"I made cookies!"

These were all things that your boyfriend Choso had been saying to you all day, and you couldn't lie, you enjoyed being taken care of like that. Right now you were indulging in the double chocolate cookies he had just baked while he sat with his legs criss crossed on the ground in front of you.

"How are they? Are they baked enough? Too overdone? Not chocolatey enough?"

"Choso," you laughed, ruffling his hair, "it's delicious. Everything you've done for me today has been beyond perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend."

He smiled. "I just want to help. Since I can't take away your pain, I want to lessen it in any way I can."

Toji:

Waking up after a night at your boyfriend's house was always a pleasant experience for you, and this morning was no different.

Until you noticed a very unpleasant sticky feeling beneath you.

You gasped as you saw your worst nightmare come true--you had started your period and bled all over yourself and Toji's bed. You heard clattering from the kitchen meaning Toji wasn't in the bathroom so you ran in there as fast as you could, slamming the door behind you.

"You alright in there?" Toji asked.

"Umm... not really," you admitted, ripping open his bathroom cabinet to search for a pad or tampon. "Don't go in your room, okay?"

"Eh? Why?"

Your face burned with embarrassment. "I... started my period and ruined your sheets. I promise I'll clean it all, I just need a second."

You groaned. His cabinets were practically bare, save for the minimal amounts of his own hygiene products.

"You know what I do for a living, right? A little bit of blood isn't gonna scare me off, sweetheart. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. You just get cleaned up."

"Thanks Toji. You don't happen to have pads or tampons, do you?"

"Uhh... I have rags?"

You rolled your eyes. "This isn't the 1800s, that's not gonna work."

"Right. Tell me what you need, I'm going to the store."

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook loves to see you smile and you are the god of mischief.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff / word count: 2.6k

content/warnings: mention of childhood insecurity, mention of biting during s*x, jk is very touchy, they watch a movie and the guard thinks they’re doing sumn nasty bc they’re both a menace honestly 😭, jk accidentally bites his lower lip and bleeds

> in which masterlist!

note: hi !! this is a repost of a drabble i wrote two (?) years ago but accidentally deleted lololol so if you’ve read it before that’s why! but this is now an edited version with a new title <3

—

“baby,”

jungkook calls your attention out of nowhere, pausing the movie playing on the tablet you’re holding. the frown painted on his face is difficult to miss.

“i have a question.”

“so randomly?” you raise an eyebrow. “ask me then.”

“why do you cover your face when you’re happy?”

the wide-eyed look of genuine curiosity on his face is identical to yesterday’s, when he asked you what the word ineffable meant after hearing it in a song.

the question prompts you to take a glance at the screen, where a sophisticated woman has a hand over her mouth as she giggles with her elite acquaintances about an old but classic rich husband joke.

“it’s not that it bothers me, i just- i’ve noticed it lately and i-i wish to see you smiling and laughing more freely, you know?” he tries his best to choose his words carefully, offering you a kind smile as he lovingly caresses your head. “it makes me happy when i see you happy.”

“oh,” you blink at him, mind going blank as you attempt to form an answer in your head. his touch isn’t exactly helping you either— you just want to melt into him and not think of anything at all, float on cloud-nine and stay there forever.

however, seeing as he asked you the question out of the blue, he must’ve been thinking about it a lot. you’ve only been dating for a few months, so it’s understandable for him to eagerly seek the answers to his curiosities and observations. if anything, it feels nice to learn he gives this much attention to you— possibly notices things you don’t even know about yourself. for a split second the thought crosses your mind, that beyond a consciousness, you are tangible and real.

“it’s a habit i guess? when my teeth were falling out for the first time as a kid, i became insecure, so i decided that i’d just smile without showing my teeth from then on. like this.”

you demonstrate by lifting up the corners of your lips.

“and yeah-”

as if he’s helplessly pulled by the magnet of attraction, he leans down to kiss you and interrupt your sentence.

“i’d cover my face when i couldn’t contain my smile or laugh. and even when they grew back, it felt weird. like my smile didn’t belong to my face? if that even makes sense.”

“yah, that’s not true! you’re very pretty whether you’re smiling, or crying and-” his warm hand cups your cheek, and he stupidly grins as he’s about to say something cheesy. “even when you’re just breathing.”

the corners of your lips rise again. this time, it’s genuine.

“oh? how romantic.” you scrunch your nose cutely, and his heart flutters.

you hold onto his wrist, revelling in the way his thumb softly traces shapes on your skin.

“i’m over that, though. it was so long ago. i don’t think about it obsessively anymore at least. it’s really just a habit i haven’t gotten rid of.” you reassure him, meaning every word that you say.

we all have our secrets and fears that we keep only to ourselves, that much is understood between the two of you. there are circumstances in which withholding information is necessary. however, the one big promise you made to each other is to never lie. honesty and trust. ease and consolation. every word, every syllable hanging from your lips an addition to the naked history of your love. passed down stories. confessions. blurry memories. shutter sounds. curses. laughter. song dedications. that much is true.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you bite the inside of your cheek to conceal a smile, beguiled by his love drunk eyes seemingly stunned by your mere presence beside him.

“like what, baby?”

you shy away from his gaze. “like you’re either thinking that i hang the stars on the sky every night… or that you want to eat me alive.”

to confirm your words true, he takes your hand and sinks his teeth on the flesh of your palm where your thumb is connected. his wide doe eyes peer at you innocently, sparkling like of a little kid eating the fluffy pancakes he’s been craving since last night.

the latter might sound like a joke to others, but jungkook does eat you alive. almost. basically. you’re not even shocked at the act anymore. soon enough, you’ll memorize the mark of his teeth carving their mark on your skin, both in sexual and non-sexual setting.

“babe,” you send him a bewildered stare. “i really don’t think i taste as good as you make me out to be.”

he parts away with his eyebrows knitted in disagreement. “not true. you’re yummy.”

“oh, shut up!” you burst into a fit of giggles. your hands automatically attempts to fly to your face, but he has your wrists bound with his secure grip. you don’t resist. you only laugh harder when your sight lands on your hands tangled together.

“there’s ____’s beautiful smile.” he coos, proceeding to pepper your face with appreciative kisses.

and you fold. your back lands on the soft mattress, and your belly starts aching from laughter when he purposely blows on the spot on your neck where you’re most ticklish. hot tears gather at the corner of your eyes, and jungkook watches them fall down your temples as his lips graze your skin and your body shakes underneath him.

tears of joy and pleasure are the only tears you’re going to shed, he promises himself. you’re going to smile and make flowers bloom everyday, he promises you and the earth.

—

your teeth chattering from the cold is a shy away from your awkward smile, he notices the endearing resemblance as you shiver beside him.

“hmm, what did i tell you about cinema one?” he teasingly asks as he draws back the armrest that serves as a divider between the two of you.

“that it’s fucking cold in there-” you surrender, tone sounding annoyed. “here. whatever!”

“and who still decided to wear their smallest pieces of clothing?” he continues to taunt you while he pulls you into his body’s natural warmth.

you sigh, whether it’s in relief or annoyance, you’re not quite sure.

“i just wanted to wear my new cute clothes.” you whisper-shout.

the giant screen is still playing trailers of the upcoming movies this year, and you’re already mentally updating your calendar to accommodate them despite your hectic schedule. a two-hour vacation, you would always describe films.

he chuckles, and more shivers run down your spine at the deep and raspy sound being so close to your ear. “you do look cute today, baby.”

he catches the cloth of your skirt between his fingers, and somehow, he ends up squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh. you swallow thickly, unconsciously closing your thighs together and trapping his hand in between them.

“thank you, handsome.” you grip his wrist to move it away. you tut. “no silly business, though. i really want to watch this movie.”

his shoulders drop dramatically in disappointment. “okay… want to sit on my lap so i can keep you warm then?”

you look behind you to see that there’s no people sitting on your side, so no one’s view would get blocked if you were to agree to his proposition. the room is practically empty, with a few scattered people sitting on the sides.

you spend the first fifteen minutes of the movie in comfort and bliss, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. he took off his jacket earlier, and he splayed it over your lap as to not neglect the goosebumps rising all over your freezing legs.

“so stubborn,” jungkook muttered under his breath while he was taking off the jacket, an amused smile etched on his lips. you would’ve felt bad, but you knew he likes doing these things for you, so you only playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

look, to be fair, it is your first time in this cinema. you’ve been on many dates at this theater with jungkook, but for some reason, you’ve never watched a movie in cinema one until tonight. it’s cold in the other three cinemas as well, the kind of cold you’ve gotten comfortable with, so when jungkook booked the tickets last night and told you ‘it’s really cold in there, wear something warmer,’ you thought he was just being ridiculous.

hah, how cold could it possibly be? right?

fine, jungkook is right. you are stubborn.

and you prove it once more when a flashlight shines over your face. the security guard holding it approaches your seat- wait, no, jungkook’s seat. jungkook is your seat. what?!

“i’m sorry, but only one person can sit on the chair. please comply.”

you trace the direction of her eyes to find jungkook’s hands tucked underneath the jacket on your lap, resting on your inner thighs to steal their warmth. you send him a sharp glare, but it doesn’t affect him one bit. he only shrugs, obviously hiding a smirk as he pretends to be the most innocent person in the room.

you pull up the armrest next to you with a pout, slipping back into your original seat against your wishes.

“he was just warming up his hands. i promise!” you whisper not so subtly to the guard.

she only clears her throat and awkwardly nods in response, walking up the stairs to observe the rest of the movie watchers.

you bury your face in your hands as your body vibrates with mirth mixed with humiliation, and jungkook’s jaw nearly falls on the floor.

“sometimes i can’t believe you’re real. how do you never get shy?”

“i was just clearing things up!” you whine, hitting his arm using the side of a closed fist, which he massages with a squeaked ‘ouch.’ “you’re the one who put me in a compromising situation!”

“well, nobody told me taking care of my girlfriend was a crime!”

you carry on with watching the movie after that embarrassing scene, and you’ve forgotten that you’re cold until you’re uncontrollably shivering again. you begin rubbing your arms in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the goosebumps, but you eventually abandon all hope.

you sadly look over at your boyfriend to plead for help once more, but he has gotten too engrossed with the film to feel a pair of shaking pupils beseech him intensely. he finally opened the box of popcorn he’s been saving for the climax.

and he was the one who wanted to do something other than watch the movie.

you grimace.

you are no stranger to his confusing attention span.

after carefully studying the room to ensure the guard is no longer in sight, you unceremoniously climb on jungkook’s lap again. your actions cause some pieces of popcorn to fall from the box, and he scrambles to stuff them all in his mouth before the powder stains any of your clothes. yours are new, after all.

his face displays a puzzled expression, screaming i thought this was supposed to be a compromising situation?! and his soft rosy cheeks on the other hand-

“you look like a chipmunk who got caught in the headlights stealing food with its mouth full.”

the screen flashes a frame of the clear, blue sky in the aftermath of a ferocious storm. it sends the fleeting sunlight to shine on your face— just long enough for him to capture the image of how pretty you are when you giggle, and most of all, how your hand moves to cover your face, but drops on his arm before it could reach its intended destination.

he recognizes it as a conscious effort, and he feels a tug in his heart. his sweet, precious lover. you will never do anything wrong in his eyes, he thinks to himself as he hugs you closer for a kiss. the feeling of your smile against his lips might just be one of his most favorite things in the world.

he pulls away with a toothy grin to match yours, offering you the box of popcorn. the beautiful smile you claimed to not belong on your face lingers as you turn it down and sip on the lemonade instead. and then it simmers down to your usual mellow smile, to a deep frown, until your lips quiver as the resolution of the film reduces you into a puddle of tears.

jungkook likes to keep mental notes about you.

an excerpt from today:

1. how to make ____ smile? act cute.!! :)

2. how to make ____ cry? watch a son and mother reunite after eighteen long years.

p.s. i think i cried harder, but quieter ????

3. how to make ____ angry mad furious? kill off the said mother unnecessarily at the end of the movie for the sake of shu shock value.

the lights turn on all at the same time as the credits start rolling down on the plain black screen. your body slumps back on your boyfriend, drained by the series of overwhelming events that transpired in the past two hours. he waves his hand infront of your face, but your eyes remain unfocused and unblinking.

“this is the worst movie i have ever seen in my life. four out of five stars.”

he snorts at your unseriousness. “that is the most stars you’ve given this month. and it’s the 29th.”

“see? it’s the worst! i’m going to have nightmares!” you cry out with an exaggerated shudder, grabbing his forearms to envelope yourself in his embrace.

“honestly, pushing her off the cliff was a bit too mu-” his sentence gets rudely cut off when your shoulder accidentally hits his chin. you scrambled to go back to your seat, and this escalated to him accidentally biting the inside of his lower lip. the unusual mix of the bitter and salty taste of metal permeates his tongue as an unexplainable expression spreads across his face.

on the other hand, you’re too preoccupied with mischievously smiling at the guard standing down on the floor. she measures you up with a displeased look worse than earlier’s, but much to your relief, she proceeds to walk out after scanning the room one last time.

“baby!” jungkook yells in pain to grab your attention, jutting out his bottom lip to show you the wound that you inflicted.

“oh my god- shit, shit, shit-” you curse, digging your hand in your bag in search of your handkerchief. “i’m so sorry!”

you press the cloth on the bleeding, profusely apologizing to him with a wince. “i panicked! i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

he pushes your wrist away for a moment, doe eyes squinting at you accusingly. “you just wanted to play around with her, didn’t you?”

you chew on your bottom lip, the sight of blood that has stained the handkerchief sends a pang of guilt across your chest. “sorry… her face- she was just so funny.”

“fuck, why are you like this?!” he throws his head back with a bright laugher that echoes throughout the theater. “ah, you’re so adorable!”

“come back here!” you scold him, holding his face in your hands to crane it back down.

he juts out his bottom lip again, but his body continues to vibrate with lighthearted chortles.

“does it hurt?”

“it hurts…! i think i might seriously cry!” he answers despite his high tolerance for pain, distorting the truth so that he could drown himself in the gratifying feeling of being doted on by you.

he writes another mental note as you inspect his wound, repetitive bloopers playing in the background of the love bubble the two of you share.

4. ____ likes playing games with strangers. must protect with my life.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[wol-fica]

-𝕎𝕠𝕖 𝕀𝕤 𝕄𝕖?- ℙ𝕋5

pairings - wenclair x daughter!reader

summary - it’s christmas break at the addams mansion, what could possibly go wrong?

warnings - none

an - hi hello yes, this story progresses :D

—————————————————————————

You groaned, resting your head on the cool hardwood floor.

It was Christmas break, and you and Luka have come home from Nevermore to spend time with your family. Unfortunately, there were more relatives staying at your grandparents mansion than you would’ve liked, and you were struggling to interact and be at least somewhat social with all of them.

All twelve of your cousins were there, running among the halls and causing so much ruckus that even Leo was exhausted. Uncle Pugsly was doing such a poor job of keeping them under wraps hat he instead gave up and chose to relax with your other uncle, Pubert, who was really only there for the expensive food your grandmother ended up cooking.

Your great grandmother was also there, cackling and joking around with your great uncle Fester while your parents sat nearby, chatting while keeping a close eye on Leo while he juggled his knife collection. You and Louis were playing chess, and each game you beat him, but he refused to stop until he won at least one round.

“Louis, you’ve lost basically every game, there is no point in trying to beat her again.” Leo said from across the room, hissing when he dropped one of his knives.

“I hate leaving a duel defeated.” He pouted while you packed up the board, “It’s a sign of weakness.”

“Maybe you should train harder, all you do is sleep anyway.” Leo quipped back, snickering.

You smirked slightly, turning your head away to hide your smile while your mother scolded Leo for being rude. After sliding the packed up board onto the shelf it belonged on, you moved to the couch where your jacket was folded up. Enid reached out to you, managing to brush her knuckles against your skin.

“Hmm you’re cold.” She murmured, frowning, “Are you sure you wanna go out with Luka today?”

You nodded, wiggling away from her touch to stand up, “I’ll be fine, he wants quality time anyways.”

In all honesty, you were the one who wanted ‘quality time’ with your brother, but you were never going to tell that to anyone. Luka was the only person that you could admit to that you admired and enjoyed being around him. As annoying as he was, you still loved him for being your brother, and you would tolerate his behavior until the day you die.

“Take some gloves with you, as much as I love frostbite I would much rather you keep all of your digits.” Wednesday said, sipping her cup of coffee, “And don’t go past the front line.”

“I know the rules mom.” You grumbled, zipping up your jacket before grabbing your gloves and moving to the front door, “We won’t go far.”

“Be safe!” Enid called, smiling at you with a wave.

You feebly waved back before exiting the house and hurrying down the path to Luka. He was at the tree line, building a little snowman to pass the time. It had a top hat, probably stolen from your grandfather, and an eye piercing rainbow scarf he definitely was previously wearing. As you approached, he turned to look up, his face brightening at the sight of you.

“Hey Y/N/N!” He called, beckoning you over, “Meet Gerald, Sir Snowman The 33rd.”

“Regal.” You deadpanned.

“He’s such a cutie.” Luka said, smiling at it with shining eyes.

“I cannot wait until he melts.”

“Y/N!”

You shrugged with a grin, walking past him towards the path in the woods. He pouted at Gerald for a moment before following you, jogging to catch up to your pace. The two of you ventured down the trail, footprints left as you strolled further into the forest.

The snow crunched under your feet while you walked, the crisp air leaving the tips of your ears a subtle pink. The scarf wrapped around your neck did its job keeping your body warmer, but it left your nose to fend for itself in the cold wind. You didn’t mind though, as the sharp wind hitting your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spin.

Soon, a large opening between the trees appeared, shiny and pale ice coming into the view. The lake had frozen over for the winter, and for years before, you and Luka would venture out into the middle to see if the ice was thick enough to hold you.

There had only been one year that the ice wasn’t solid enough, and Luka had almost fallen in.

Almost.

Makes you love the thrill even more.

“Looks nice this time.” Luka said, peering across the flat surface, “And walkable.”

“We shall never know until we try.” You replied, picking up a palm sized rock.

You weighed it in your hand for a moment, before throwing it up and out onto the lake. It hit the ice, but didn’t break through, instead rolling around before stopping a few feet in front of you.

“Suitable.” You noted, before stepping out onto the slippery surface.

“WEEEEE!” Luka cheered, running out and sliding on his feet.

You huffed, fighting back a laugh when he stumbled and fell back on his butt, instead rolling your eyes at him as you carefully made your way towards the middle.

“You’re insane.” You told him, snorting when he fell after trying to stand, “And incredibly clumsy, do you need a walking stick?”

“Honestly yeah.”

You hummed, walking past him and heading towards the center of the lake. He scrambled up, wobbly on his feet, and carefully followed you. It was a tradition between you and him that you both take a knife to the ice to see if it will crack. If it does, it means the year will be bad, if it doesn’t, it means the year will be wonderful.

Once you reached the middle, you pulled your pocket knife out, flipping it open and handing it to Luka. He grinned, taking it and kneeling down on the cold surface. He raised the knife above his head, and plunged it into the ice. The blade pierced through, and a loud crack echoed across the lake.

“Hm.” You said, taking a few steps back, “Didn’t break.”

“Yes!!” Luka cheered, standing up and jumping up and down, “I knew it would be a good-.”

Before you could tell him to not jump on the cracked ice, the stability broke and he fell right through. The water enveloped him, and the large pieces of ice hid where he sunk into the murky water.

Maybe it was a good time to mention that Luka can’t swim.

“Luka!” You yelled, peering down to see if you could spot him.

The water was still, not a sound to be made, until a pounding from a couple feet over caught your attention. It was your brother, hitting his fist against the ice in an attempt to get out. You ran over, bringing your fist down to try to break the ice as well, but you weren’t strong enough.

You looked down helplessly as his pounding slowed down, air bubbles escaping his throat as he panicked. Fear overcame you, and before you could even register what was happening, a large spout of fire burst from your hand and onto the ice. It cracked and melted, swiftly dissipating into water right before your awestruck eyes.

You stuck your hand into the water, reaching around until Luka’s grasped yours. You heaved him up and out of the cold lake, both of you stumbling backwards from the large hole in the ice. You laid on your back in shock, gasping for air while Luka retched and coughed, water spewing out of his mouth. He rolled over and dry heaved, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his adrenaline died down.

“Dammit.” He breathed, resting his forehead against his arm.

You extended your hand over to him, grasping his when he reached for you, “Never jump on cracked ice again.”

He chuckled, shaking his head feebly. You both laid there for a few minutes, trying to calm down enough to return home safely. You finally felt the strength to sit up, waiting patiently for Luka to regain his composure. You turned to him, expecting him to be shaking off the water in his hair with a smile on his face, but instead he was just sitting and staring at you blankly.

“What.” You asked bluntly, “If it's about the fire I-.”

He shook his head rapidly, fear filling his eyes, and raised a shaking hand to point behind you. You turned slowly, a chill running down your spin when you realized what he was so bothered by. There, a few steps out from the treeline, was a large figure watching you quietly. It was pulsing, a rhythmic manner that mirrored breathing as its back rose and fell. You squinted, not sure what you were looking at, before it began to rush towards you.

Its shape was contorted uncomfortably, its spine hunched over like it had been broken and healed improperly multiple times. Grey skin stretched over its lanky bones, wrapped around its ribcage like a vacuum sealed plastic bag. Pale scars were scattered about its body, almost mimicking that of an inverted Zebra, with large eyes protruding from its head, bulging and bloodshot; you swore you could see physical hunger swirling around in its iris’. It moved like a deformed gorilla, its back legs short and stubby while its front arms were long and muscly, with long claws digging into the ice with every step it took. Its mouth foamed, drool and slobber drenching its maw as it approached.

It was beautifully horrible.

“Run.” Luka whispered, slowly standing.

“What is that…?” You wondered curiously, almost leaning in its direction, “It looks…”

“Y/N, RUN!!”

Luka grabbed at your jacket, yanking you up to your feet and pulling you away from the approaching monster. You both fell into a sprint, clumsily stumbling every few steps but nonetheless running. Luka was farther ahead of you, naturally being a faster runner due to his werewolf genes, but you were still with him. The creature roared behind you, its thunderous steps echoing across the lake as it began to gain on you.

Your feet hit the frosted grass, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you scampered up the hill to get back to the house. Trees blurred past you as you both ran for your lives, and you almost felt your heart stop when you heard a low growl so close to you. The sound of Luka panting next to you pushed you a little harder, a small feeling of relief hitting you when you saw the large mansion come into view, but just before you could relish in your near escape, you were yanked sideways.

White hot pain shot through your shoulder and back, the air being pushed out of your lungs when you came in contact with the tree you were thrown against. Over the loud ringing in your ears,, you could dimly hear Luka shouting and the monster roaring, but the world seemed to spin as you tried to stand on your wobbly legs. A large blurry figure stalked towards you, its large claw rising high to be brought down upon your face, but just as it was swinging to attack and you closed your eyes, everything stopped.

No scream.

No roar.

No crunch of bones.

No splatter of blood on the leaves.

Not even the tiny whispers that plague you.

Nothing.

You feebly peeled your eyes open, looking around in confusion to see that there was no monster to be seen. The forest was the same, clustered with snow covered trees and your grandparents' massively gothic mansion a few yards away, but that was it. Luka was gone, the creature was gone, it was just you and the cold.

Peaceful.

If this was death, you were not a fan.

“Y/N”

You whipped around, scoffing when faced with the body of the voice that just spoke your name.

“You.” You grumbled.

“Me.” She replied.

“Where is Luka?” You asked firmly, glancing around for a moment, “Am I dead?”

“Luka is fine, and no, you're not dead..” Goody replied, eying you up and down.

“Then where am I?” You demanded, still expecting the monster to appear out of the trees and tear you to bits.

Goody didn't reply, and you turned to see her brushing little snowflakes off of her shoulders. You saw red, picking up a pinecone and chucking it at her. The fruit passed right through her incorporeal form, landing somewhere behind her. She frowned, looking up at you with a bothered gaze.

“Excuse me, your ghostly-ness.” You seethed, “I'd like to know where the hell I am.”

“Don’t use such repugnant language with me.” She conned, “I am here to guide you.”

“Well then GUIDE me to the exit, please and thank you.”

“I have to speak with you.”

“Jesus!” You threw your hands in the air, turning away from her and kicking a rock in frustration.

Of all times that she could have chosen to have a conversation with you, of course she has to decide that right now, the time that you very well could be mauled and eaten, is the perfect moment.

“This is the first time I have had the chance to talk to you.” Goody asserted, walking around until she was in front of you, “We have things to discuss.”

“I very well could be decapitated and dismembered right now,” You drawled, rubbing your hands against your face, “yet you think this is a good time to have a discussion with you?”

“Yes.”

“Some guidance you are.”

Suddenly, you were pushed backwards by a heavy gust of wind, causing you to fall on your behind. Goody stood over you, her book open and her finger pointed at you. You gasped, shaking the pine needles off of you and standing up.

“Did you just spellbook me?” You snarled, glaring at her.

“I just ‘spellbooked’ you.” She replied, her tome closing with a soft hiss.

“I swear to god I will gut y-.”

She waved her hand at you, a short puff of air hitting your face that smelled oddly like hotdogs. A faint whisper came from her, something you could not pick up over the harsh wind, and you felt your lips seal shut.

“Mmm!” You tried to speak unsuccessfully, your words coming out muffled instead.

“Your lips have been locked with a small silencing spell, it will wear off in a few minutes.” Goody said, “Now, vide tuum futurum.”

The air started to thicken around you, almost like a weighted blanket being draped over our head. Images started to appear in the fog, flickering and shining like a projector screen whilst shapes began to form. Teeth bloody and sharp, a low growl exuding from a beast's throat. A familiar howl was heard, a full moon appearing in the air. People shouted from afar, pitchforks and torches stabbing through the glowing orb with an eerie scream.

“This is your future.” Goody murmured, gesturing to the fog, “This is what I’ve been trying to warn you about.”

You turned to her with a glare, stamping your foot while you gave a grunt. She sighed, taking her pointer and middle fingers to your lips. “Loqui.” She whispered, a faint warmth exuding from the tips of her fingers, and you felt your lips unseal.

“These things, the images, will inevitably happen. You must prepare.”

You eyed her spell book, the very same that you currently had under your pillow back at your dorm in nevermore. You knew of the spells that are inked on the pages, ranging with ones of fire casting to full body possession. You couldn’t use any of the incantations in fear of messing something up that you couldn't fix, yet you yearned to speak the latin phrases out of pure curiosity of what you could do.

“Preparing, how would…should...I prepare?” You asked carefully, licking your dry lips.

“However you deem necessary.” Goody mused, “I cannot decide your decisions, it would rewrite the outcome.”

You squinted at her, “The outcome? What’s the outcome?”

Her body started to fade, her skin going paler than what it already was. Specs of her began to float away in the wind, and oddly enough, the forest around you started to melt away into darkness.

“Prepare.” Goody echoed, now almost transparent, “Use the book.”

“Goody you useless piece of sh-.”

And then everything was gone.

—————————————————————————

spookyyyyyy

taglist: @cartierdreamx @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn

not sure if any of you still read lol

if you’re interested in the taglist, just comment !

[blue-arkhamknight]

Omg hiiii you seem cool ! And I’ve had this Jason Todd idea in my head for a bit so

What if the reader is basically his nurse he comes to her for every little cut to actual serious injuries

And this is normal but one night when he stops by to have her help with something small he realizes she sick ,fever ,chills the works and she’s stubborn but he wants to help his nurse

Just some good hurt comfort ,kinda the tables have turned

This could also totally be written as gender neutral reader instead of fem

Have a good day !

Tysm!! I actually love this idea. I have delivered (not too much well though) . Thank you for requesting and have a good day too!

Images do not belong to me and I am not a doctor or a nurse! This is all with my Dr. Mike knowledge.

I changed it a bit sorry 😿

Chicken Soup and Netflix.

Warnings: Sick reader and some deep brief detail about the sickness.

── .✦

── .★

Jason is… a bit odd to say the least. Very tall and muscular with the peculiar trait to have his face scrunched up in the waiting room of one of Gotham’s hospitals. You might ask, well what’s Jason doing there? Simple, he got a cut. Slicing some apples that his lazy brother Dick didn’t want to slice himself.

But he didn’t go there to see any nurse that could quickly attend him. No, that’d be too easy! Might as well just buy a simple bandaid and stick it on his finger then call it a day, which he absolutely can. He just doesn’t want to. This time and like any other time he went to that hospital (which was all the time) he asked for the same specific nurse. You.

“Alright, Jason. To what do I have the pleasure of seeing you for the sixth time in four days?” you questioned as you finally attended Jason. He still glared at you because for his logic, you took too long in attending him. Reality was that you were just working on a patient that was going to get a CT scan, after all, patients should be hydrated before the scans… And you were not feeling well in all honesty. Of course, Jason noticed your held in sneezes and cold shivers, but he didn’t say anything for now, fearing he would be wrong and make a fool of himself.

He held up his left index finger, showing the small cut on full display. “I cut myself.” he explained dryly as you stared at him like he was the dumbest person on Earth. You silently sighed, at the sight of his dumb cut, but also because you felt like absolute crap. “You do know about the existence of bandaids, right?” you said as you pulled out a box of them after you questioned him on how the cut occurred like with any patient. There was no need for an experienced doctor here and waste their time like you were wasting yours, even if you felt the slightest pang of something by Jason’s often demands to be attended by you out of everyone on the field.

“This is very serious! It could get infected and I need medical assistance.” he quickly defended himself. He was cradling his finger as if it would fall off. Your eyes looked at the tiny cut while you held in that very annoyed eye roll. Once you had ‘cured’ him as he called it, he stopped with the frowns. He was indeed sad that it was quick, but hey. It’s a win situation for him because got to see your face!

“Achoo!”. What? Jason’s head immediately whipped from where he was standing at the door to behind him. His hand dropped from the door knob and moved his body to face you. “…Are you sick?” he asked with his normal stoic voice, though his face was the smallest bit softer than usual. “What- no, no, no!” you rapidly declined with a very, very stubborn frown, though you were wrong. So wrong. Chills, shivers, fever, and held in coughs and sneezes.

How had he not noticed?! You looked awful and he hadn’t helped! “Sit down.” he said, though it sounded much more harsher than he intended it to be and what made it sound like a command when it wasn’t. Which rightfully so, it earned a deeper frown and a scoff from you. Truly, he was as stoic as a rock, but of course that didn’t stop the pang on his heart. The one that screamed at him ‘Stop being a nuisance and help!’, but shhh shhhh! He needs to be nonchalant, guys! Though he was always welcomed to be as chalant as he wanted.

────

After lots and lots and lots and lots of talking he finally did it. Jason convinced you to leave work and call in sick. With of course the very logical excuse that a nurse shouldn’t go to work ill, they will get sick other patients and potentially making them feel worse. Guilt tripping much, but you had to admit. The guy had a very good point.

Conveniently, Jason got to be your ride home. Again, he reasoned that you shouldn’t go on the bus and risk getting people sick. “But what about you, smart ass?” you asked sarcastically, though your words held deep inside concern of getting sick this regular patient with whom you’ve had deep talks like good friends. It all held its own deep meaning nonetheless, the glances he stole, the scoffs, the frowns, the eye rolls, and the effort he put into seeing you at the hospital. Every small injury he got, intentional or not, was an excuse to see you.

“You’ve helped me enough. Let me be of use this time.” he said as his motorcycle came to a stop. Jason hopped out first, carefully taking your hand and helping you get down. Though before you could say thank you, or huff at him, you quickly had to cover your mouth and sneeze, making you sigh and disinfect your hands so you could later wash them. You groaned at the cold, violently shivering while you walked up to your apartment complex. Jason trailed behind you in deep thought. Suddenly there was a welcoming warmth around your shoulders, a brown jacket.

If Jason could admit, it was definitely freezing. He had taken off his own jacket for your own safety. Not wanting your state to get any worse and as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he absolutely despises the horrible condition you are in. He doesn’t like it. Not the paleness, the shivering, the sneezes, the disgusting phlegm sounding coughs, and the eye bags. In conclusion? He had the case of being utterly worried and hiding it behind a stoic mask.

Clearly his jacket was welcomed since you didn’t give any sign of protest, other than huff. Even if you still didn’t want to admit it you were sick as hell and he was going to leave you alone. After all, you had helped him too many damn times with the dumbest stuff. As you both made it through the complex he saw an elevator and quickly guided you to it. “Number.” he said gruffly, leaving you confused, “Number?…” you repeated as a question. He grumbled looking at you, “Floor number.” Jason specified, making you mentally go: ‘Ohhhhh.’. “Right- Sixth floor.” you said looking at him as he gave a nod and pressed the elevator button with the number six on it.

Shortly you went into a coughing fit, covering your mouth. Jason took a notice, his hand snaking to your back and slightly patting your back. He could feel the violent shivers. Once the elevator opened and he made sure you stopped coughing, he gently pushed you off the floor elevator and trailed behind. You started walking towards your apartment. Opening the door you turned to him.

“…You can.. uh come in if you want.” you muttered, your voice getting hoarser by the time. Jason, still internally concerned gave a nod waiting for you to get inside. “How’s your finger? Still lethal?” you asked as you stepped inside, trying to loosen the tense air. He shrugged, looking at his index finger that wore the smallest bandage, “…I suppose I can last a few more hours.” he said following your tone. A hum escaped your throat, “Maybe you need some IV’s.” you said as he stepped behind you and closed the door, getting a “Definitely.” from him.

You settled down your stuff, crashing down in the couch and thats all Jason needed. He looked around and walked to the kitchen, looking for stuff to at least make a soup for you. Surprisingly he isn’t a bad cook. Grabbing the necessary ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. You looked at him from the couch, eyes lidded with exhaustion and a twinge of guilt.

“You don’t have to cook you kn-“ you spoke up, getting cut off by a stern stare of him making your sentence die down. He opened a cabinet after another, stopping when he found medicine, reading each of the labels until he saw one that was needed for your symptoms. He finished cooking the soup and poured it into a bowl and set it aside to cool down a bit. Jason then opened your fridge to grab a water bottle. His steps echoed through the silent apartment.

He stopped in front of you, handing you the bottle of water and the medicine, fixing his jacket so it covered you and kept you warm and sat you up. “Thanks…” you mumbled and took them as you sat up with his help on the couch. Jason gave another nod, “Yeah no problem.” he answered. He walked again to the kitchen and grabbed the soup bowl, a spoon and went to sit next to you. Gently, he handed you the bowl and looked around. Seeing this you gave him the TV control and he gladly took it.

Jason played a random movie in your Netflix account as you ate slowly the soup he had carefully made, his jacket around you. Your legs were in a butterfly position on the couch and slowly leaned your head on his shoulder while you kept eating the soup. Then there was a weight on your own head and another around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder. “Guess who’s the nurse now?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, but at last, it was nice to be taken care of instead to take care of.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

SORRY IF THIS WAS BAD!! English isn’t my first language, but I’m trying to be better at writing!! Hope you liked it a little bit.

[targaryenluvs]

TOO SWEET / SOULLESS!SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Soulless Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: You were simply just trying to get through your day, he found himself enticed by your kindness and unwilling to let go.

WARNINGS: Innocence kink, teasing, flattery, size diff kink, dacryphillia, hair pulling, non-con/dub-con, rough, angry Sam, p in v, fingering, cream pie, babying, virgin reader, blood, scratches

WORDCOUNT: 3K Words

A/N: I can’t just write a sweet Sam fic and not balance out the scales! This is a bit self indulgent so short!reader. Also I’m not an avid drinker so bare with me at the bar 😭 @lady-ashfade here it is!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

A03 Link

You hadn’t meant to bump into him, no one bumps into people on purpose. But you were scared of running out of time before the shop closed and weren’t really caring about your surroundings.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You immediately apologised whilst grabbing everything that had dropped to the floor. His hands grazed yours and you froze up, making eye contact with the man. “No, it was my fault.” His voice mocked the concern in yours, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

You laughed, “Are you kidding? I totally bumped into you, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You stood up with all your belongings in hand and with a smile. “I should be on my way. Again, I’m so sorry.” Sam shook his head, “You don’t need to keep apologising.”

Your lips pressed into a tight smile as you nodded, “Okay.” The awkwardness of your interaction was practically unbearable. “I’ll be on my way, have a nice day.” Sam watched as you walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Not out of happiness but intrigue.

He wanted more, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

You were sweet, unnaturally so, he wanted a taste.

So with out your knowledge of course, he followed you. For the rest of the day he was right behind you, and you were blissfully unaware. You finished up with your groceries about an hour later and finally crossing off everything to do that day.

As you stood near the exit with your cart you couldn’t help but sigh. Seven bags, loaded, and paper with only two arms. Your car was in the shop so you’d put off a lot of things, which resulted in them piling up.

So you decided for a delivery instead, but you had to wait until the truck came back to allow them to pick your groceries up and eventually drop them off. You wondered if they’d give you a ride in all honesty.

You waited outside the doors whilst reading a magazine you bought, which was surprisingly interesting.

You really should be more aware of your surroundings.

“Do you need some help?” You glanced upwards at the sound of a familiar voice, the man from before. He was so tall and pretty, “Oh! No, I’m just waiting.” You smiled widely as you placed the magazine inside a bag. “I didn’t catch your name back there, I’m Y/n.” Sam smiled, “Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Sam.” His eyes trailed down, you were wearing a low cut dress, it sure as hell suited you.

“Completing some shopping are we?” He chuckled at the notion, Sam, grocery shopping like a normal person. “I was about to, until I saw your gorgeous self.” His words made you giggle, you could feel your face grow hotter. “Oh god, you are— that’s so sweet.” Your hands intertwined with eachother as you looked down to your feet, a strand falling in front of your eyes.

Sam’s hand darted out to tuck it behind your ear, “Oh, thank you.” Your voice was sweet, he wondered if you were this shy in bed. “No problem. I was wondering—,”

“Ma’am?” A worker came outside with a smile, “Trucks here, would you like me to unpack it all for you?” You nodded quickly, “Oh yes, please.” You were always so polite. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be doing it all herself am I right?” Sam’s jaw tightened as he watched your face flush, “I’ll help her unload.”

You both turned to Sam, “No you don’t need to seriously.” The look in Sam’s eyes was unsettling, and you thought the worker noticed it too. “I’ll help.” It wasn’t an ask, he was telling you. And you were the furthest thing from confrontational, so you let him take the cart. The worker passed a clipboard to you to fill out your address, Sam passed it onto the driver.

Sam couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he wanted you so badly, he couldn’t care less usually about some random girl. But there was something about you that drew him to you, you were so, innocent. In need. And he wanted to sink his teeth into you, badly.

Once he was done you offered him a tight lipped smile, unsure of his mood, “Thank you Sam, you didn’t have to at all.” He knew he didn’t have to, “It’s nothing really, you needed the help.” Sam couldn’t help but grin when he noticed you quite literally straining your neck to look up at him. You were so, pocket sized.

As if I can’t load groceries into a trunk? His words made you seem weak, but you brushed it off. “I don’t how to repay—,”

Bad choice of words sweetheart.

“Let me take you out.”

Somehow you’d managed to let him smooth talk you into a hang out. So here you were, sitting with him at the bar. Sam was anything but boring. He had about a million comments locked and loaded for every second. You found yourself enthralled by him, it’d been far too long since you enjoyed yourself on a night out.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not, at all. Believe what you want Sweetheart.” The nickname made you want to kick your feet and smile. Sam was so, amazing. He was tall, handsome, funny and kind. You could’ve maybe added chivalrous to the list. Sam waved over the bartender, he’d finished his third beer whilst you nursed a Cosmo.

Sam raised an eyebrow at your drink, you’d had it for about twenty minutes and before it a coke. “Pacing yourself are we?” The glass turned in your hands as you sighed, “I don’t drink that often honestly.”

“No?” Sam feigned interest, “Yeah, I’m more of the designated driver. I find it better to have fun sober in all honesty rather than waking up with a pounding headache and unaware of my surroundings.” Getting blackout drunk wasn’t on everyone’s to do lists which was respectable he guessed. “Good girl.”

The words made your eyes widen as you took another sip, Sam noticed. He found your shyness cute. Usually by know a girl was pawing at him, hinting towards a get away to her place or at least flirting. But you were just, talking. Like you wanted to get to know him rather than fuck him.

He found it adorable at the start, you barely knew what you were doing. But with your tits on display, and him being more than tall enough to look down your dress, he wanted nothing more than to get out of the place.

It’d been thirty minutes since his third beer. He was on his seventh and you were on another coke. Sam was so close to blowing up. The way you looked up at him, when your lips chased after the liquid in your cup, and your cute little body in that short dress.

You glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped, you had work you needed to submit by 11 and it was already 10. “I completely lost track of time, oh my god!” Sam watched as you smiled at the bartender, swiftly tossing down a thirty as you swung your bag over your shoulder.

Sam placed his beer down, undeniably irritated by your sudden departure, “Thank you so much for such a nice night Sam, it was really nice getting to know you. I hope we can maybe see eachother again?” You barely waited for an answer before placing a peck on his cheek.

“I’ll see you around?”

It was the last thing you said before you bolted out the door. Sam was surprisingly stunned, within a minute you’d upped and left him alone. Not once did you overtly flirt or bat your eye lashes, it was honestly refreshing. A challenge is what he saw you as and a kind man is what saw you in him. How wrong you were, and how badly he wanted you.

Sam downed the rest of his drink before deciding, he was coming after you.

The night air nipped at your bare skin, you’d idiotically forgone a jacket or shawl. All you wanted was to get home and debrief with your friend who was proud of you for finally going out with someone. You really did enjoy yourself with Sam, but at the same time in your opinion there was something off about him.

He’d make a good friend.

As you entered your apartment you immediately sighed, if there was something you loved more than shopping or going out, it was your home. You quickly removed your heels and placed your bag on the counter before moving to your room. Makeup wipes disposed of, clothes picked out and the weekend was tomorrow.

You decided to wear a simple gown since it was a bit too warm in your place. As you were about to turn down the heat—

The lights went out.

Your hands trailed along the walls until you reached your living room curtains, thankfully you lived in the city. As you looked out you realised it was probably only your building. A creaking from behind caused you to turn sharply, “Hello?” No response. You slowly made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a flashlight from your drawer.

The living room seemed empty, shadows drawn out by the light. Another creak came, but closer this time, “If there’s someone here, I’m so close to calling the cops.”

You screamed as you heard a chuckle from behind you, “How are you going to call without a phone?” You knew that voice, “Sam?” He stepped out from behind you with a wide grin, his eyes were trained on you, like a predator. The way he stared sent shivers down your spine, “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even—,”

“I saw your address on the delivery sheet. You really shouldn’t just pass around personal details sweetheart.” You swallowed before backing up, he continued walking forwards, “I— I didn’t show it you on purpose.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly as he tutted, “It’s no excuse, it was reckless of you. Imagine what would’ve happened if the wrong person saw?”

The tears were welling quickly, this was not the Sam you’d met, the one that you laughed and drunk with. This Sam was intimidating, “You are the wrong person.”

Your back was up against the wall, “Ouch, I wasn’t the wrong person when you needed help right? I wasn’t the wrong person when you wanted to go out. You’re a bitch, you know that? Wearing that little dress, that black lace and leaving me by myself. What was so important that you had to go? Or do you just get kicks out of leaving guys high and dry?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears dropping down your cheeks. Sam’s thumb caressed your cheek whilst the other traced upwards, “No.” You cried out, “No?” Sam mocked as he raised his eyebrows, “No to what sweetie? No to being a slut or something else?” His fingers ghosted over your panties as you jerked your hips upwards, “Sensitive aren’t you, not so sure if you’re a slut anymore Y/n/n.”

You refrained from puking at the nickname, “Something else.” Sam smirked as he took you in, teary, puffy eyes with a tear stained face. You struggled with getting your words out, his presence was overwhelming. You knew you couldn’t actually put up a fight, this man was a giant. And he’d absolutely crush you, no chance.

“No to this?” His fingers slipped your panties to the side and laughed when you began to sob into his shoulder. His finger presses against your clit as a gasp falls from your lips, “Can’t tell me you don’t want it when you’re acting like this Y/n/n.” You cringed at the lewd squelch that came from you.

Sam groaned as your fingertips dug into his biceps, “Sammy please.” He wanted to hit you the second you called him Sammy, but the wide eyes that stared up at him were too cute. “Tell me, tell Sammy what you need.” It was tedious at this point, his fingers had withdrawn from your clit, his touch was light and never where you needed it to be.

“Please just— just do something!” You wanted to cry even more, the apartment was warm and so were you. Your head was foggy, and all you could focus on was Sam’s large hands and thick fingers. “Please, I need you.” He pressed a finger to your clit and you moaned out, “Sammy!”

“You’re so wet Y/n/n, all for me yeah?” You were too far gone as he entered a finger, in and out. “When I say something,” Not even giving a minute to adjust, Sam added another finger as your fingernails scratched down his arms, “You respond.” His other hand came around your neck, his own fingernails imprint upon the smooth skin.

You whined at the loss of contact as Sam pulled out, feeling discomfort as you could feel your own slick coating your thighs, “Jump.” Sam had his hands on your ass as you jumped up, “Good girl.”

He laid you down on the bed before taking his own clothes off. You expected him to continue with fingering you but Sam had different plans. Because if there was one thing he put on top?

His own pleasure.

When you felt him rubbing his cock on your cunt, you immediately began to crawl away, “What do you think you’re doing Y/n/n?” Sam’s hands circled around your wrists as you squealed, his grip was tight and bruising.

“I’ve never…”

Oh this was too good. As if he wasn’t already having a good night. When you finally stopped fighting him, realising the stupidity of it, you looked at him.

His face was twisted in concern and you felt your heart swell, he was going to let you go. But then, you watched in horror as he began to laugh.

“Baby, you think I care? More fun for me.”

Your bedroom was filled with lewd sounds of skin and groans from Sam, your hands were pinned down above your head courtesy of Sam. He thrusted meanly and with so much force that you had scratched his back bloody.

“Shit Y/n/n, I knew you’d have a tight cunt but, fuck.”You hated him, how gorgeous he looked above you, how the sweat made his abs glisten and how your body reacted to his words.

Sam’s one hand was more than enough to hold both of yours, he traced your tits before pinching your nipple causing you to scream out. “Does it hurt? Poor baby.” He continued plunging into you, his dick twitched inside as he noticed the crimson on his dick.

Sam slowed his movements down as he noticed your eyes fluttering, “You keep your eyes on me Y/n. Close your eyes on me again and see what happens.” You quite literally couldn’t help it, Sam had already came inside you twice and your body had given up on fighting long ago.

“Please, just stop it Sam.” He scoffed at the plea, “What, I’m not Sammy anymore?” Sam teased as his hand came down to your clit, pressing down.

“This is all your fault y’know? Leaving me at the bar like I’m pathetic? Only pathetic thing here is you. Can’t even fight back now?” You barely managed to shake your head as Sam’s strong hands squeezed your hips before lifting and a slap landed on your ass.

“Cute little thing aren’t you?”

Sam pulled out before flipping you onto your stomach, pulling you back by your hips he ground against your ass. He prodded at your ass using your slick to stretch you out, “Cute ass too, maybe next time?” You shook your head at the notion, “Baby, Y/n/n you gotta use your words.”

He slid back into your tight cunt and groaned, “Fuck you’re so good. All— all for me.” You found yourself clutching onto the bed as he drove in and out mercilessly. You felt your legs begin to quiver as your cunt throbbed and clenched and you closed your eyes, trying your hardest to hold back. His hand tangled itself in your hair.

Sam’s hand on your ass kneaded and slapped, leaving it throbbing. “Fuck I can feel you, cum. Cum for me.” As much as you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing you felt as if you were going to explode. Sam was there too, you could feel his hips falter and his grip on your hair tighten.

“You’re mine, fuck, You’re mine. You understand?” His voice whispered against your ears and then you felt it. Sam’s cock throbbed inside of you, you could feel it with how deep he was inside of you, and thick, hot, ropes of cum filling you up as he came.

Sam’s hand pressed down onto your stomach, “Feel that Y/n/n?” Sam’s voice was prominent by your ear, “Yes Sammy!” You exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you.

He grinned before pulling out, you immediately collapsed onto the bed. You closed your eyes hoping it was over now. You jolted as you felt Sam’s fingers stuff his loads of cum back into you, “Keep that in there, or I’ll take you again.” Sam smiled as you nodded.

He surprisingly didn’t leave, instead he laid next to you. Sam had given you a break, two minutes was enough right?

Your peace was taken again as you felt a hand crawl around on your hip, “On second thought,”

“I might just take your ass now.”

[theonlyonesora]

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 8 - When the Line Blurs

You didn’t expect to cry in corpse pose.

It started as a joke—Jessy whispering “namaste, throuple” during warm-up stretches while the instructor chanted about inner light and outer release. But by the time the final meditation began, something cracked open in you. And there, on a yoga mat that smelled faintly of lemon and sweat, you admitted it out loud:

"I don’t know what the hell I’m doing."

Jessy glanced over but didn’t press you. Not until you two were walking home, wind tangling your hair, bodies loose from the heat of class and the honesty that always seemed to slip out with sweat and silence.

You told her everything.

Las Vegas. The wine. The look in Oscar’s eyes. Lily’s hand brushing yours like it had always belonged there. The way it kept happening, behind closed doors and between half-finished conversations.

How it wasn’t just one night anymore. And how you didn’t know how to stop it.

Jessy listened, the way she always did—quiet, sharp, the occasional interjection laced with disbelief and compassion. Then she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face you.

“Do you like Lily?”

You blinked. “Of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“No,” she said gently. “Do you like her? Like… that.”

You swallowed. Looked away.

“No.”

“Then why did you agree to all that?”

You hesitated. “Because… Oscar.”

It felt shameful to say it, like putting a price tag on affection. Like you’d sold something sacred—your own comfort, your own truth—for the rush of being wanted. For the way Oscar made you feel seen, like you were part of a wild secret.

But that secret had started to rot.

“And now?” Jessy asked, soft but steady.

“I regret it,” you whispered. “Not because of Oscar, but because of Lily. I don’t want to hurt her. And if I tell her the truth… that I never felt that way about her, and I only did it because of him…” Your voice cracked. “I’ll lose her.”

Jessy exhaled, tugging you into a hug right there on the sidewalk. You let yourself lean into it, forehead pressed to her shoulder, body trembling with all the things you couldn’t say to Lily.

“You have to be honest, (Y/N). Maybe not today. But soon. Secrets rot friendships faster than anything else.”

You nodded.

But it didn’t make going home any easier.

.

Oscar was already there when you walked into the apartment—his duffel bag by the door, sneakers kicked off neatly like always. He was in the kitchen with Lily, laughing at something on her phone, their voices warm and familiar.

The kind of domesticity that made your chest twist.

Lily looked up first. “Hey! You’re home.”

You tried to smile. “Yeah. Yoga.”

Oscar gave you a soft grin. “I missed your commentary on my bad texting.”

“I missed your terrible grammar.”

You laughed. It sounded normal. Too normal.

Lily hugged you like nothing had changed. And for a second, you wanted to believe that was true.

But as you slipped into your room, closed the door behind you, and sank onto your bed, the truth wrapped around your shoulders like cold silk.

Everything had changed. And now, you had to figure out how to tell her.

.

It was a small thing that brought you into the kitchen that night. You weren’t hungry—your stomach had been in knots all day—but you needed something to do with your hands, some distraction from the sound of Lily singing behind the bathroom door. The scent of her shampoo already filling the apartment. Her laughter echoing from the hallway.

You opened the fridge. Closed it again. Useless.

And then—

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You turned. Oscar stood in the doorway, barefoot in sweats and a t-shirt, his hair slightly messy from running his hands through it too often. His voice was soft, but something about it made your heart stutter. Like he already knew what was on your mind.

“I wasn’t really trying,” you said, pulling down a glass and filling it with water. “Lily’s doing a concert in the shower, and I think I’ve hit my weekly limit of pretending everything’s fine.”

Oscar crossed the kitchen slowly, the distance between you shrinking like it always did when it was just the two of you. He didn’t touch you. He never did without invitation. But his presence alone had always been enough to scramble your thoughts.

“I figured something was off,” he said quietly. “You’ve barely looked at me since I got here.”

You laughed—dry, humorless. “Didn’t realize you noticed.”

“I always notice you, (Y/N).”

That stopped you cold.

Your breath hitched, glass still in your hand. You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not with your throat tight and your body betraying you with the way it leaned toward his voice.

He took a breath. “Did we break something?”

“I think I broke something,” you said, still not turning around. “I shouldn’t have… gone along with it. With Vegas. With everything after.”

Oscar moved beside you now, close enough that you could feel the heat from his skin. His voice was lower, but careful.

“You never seemed like you didn’t want it.”

You set the glass down, finally turning to face him.

“I did want it,” you admitted. “I wanted you. And I thought… if I said yes, maybe I could have a piece of it. But Lily—” Your voice wavered. “Lily means everything to me, Oscar. She’s my home. And I can’t lie to her. I don’t feel that way about her. I never did. And now I feel like I used her. Or let her believe something that wasn’t true.”

Oscar was quiet. But not the kind of quiet that avoided. The kind that listened.

“She wanted it too,” he said gently. “It wasn’t just you trying to make her happy. And I think… maybe she hoped it would make you feel something. Maybe we both did.”

You looked up at him then, eyes searching.

“And did it?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, his hand brushed lightly against yours on the counter, barely touching. A flicker of warmth that sent a bolt of guilt through your chest.

“Yes,” he said. “It made me feel a lot.”

You both froze when the bathroom door opened, steam rolling out like a veil. Lily’s voice floated down the hall, cheerful and unbothered.

“I’m gonna do a face mask! Either of you want one?”

Oscar stepped back, and you felt the loss like a cold snap.

“I’m good!” he called, voice instantly light.

You forced a smile and echoed, “Me too!”

Lily’s door shut again, and the silence between you and Oscar returned like gravity.

You didn’t speak again as you turned off the kitchen light and walked back to your room. But the truth was already there, unspoken between you: Something had shifted. And you couldn’t take it back.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot, @lilorose25, @landofotographyy, @paolexsstuff, @sanctify-mp3, @emma-manuhpe, @virtualperfectioncat

[stargrltara]

Kinda Outa Luck

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader

summary: based off of the song ‘Kinda Outa Luck’ by lana del rey👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 . reader is kinda inspired by catwoman in the batman , she works in a club, and on the low she’s gothams most wanted female thief. She is gorgeous, and she uses it to her advantage. Oh, did i mention she has a thing for the Red Hood? And, honesty, he does too, though he is pretty shit at hiding it. PT 1 PT2

warnings: EVENTUAL 18+ MDNI, mentions of clubs, tying up, begging, mentions of sexual natures and strippers, slapping, unprotected sex, p in v, teasing, some fluff and angst, enemies with benefits??

a/n:. guys if i’m being honest i’m not in the best place right now. but i really wanted to write this.. i’m also ovulating so enjoy 💓 . ( also i’m terribly bad at writing smut i’m SO sorry if this isn’t up to standard😰 . )

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“ you never cared what i did at all

motel singer or the silver pole

i did what i had to do.. „

Everyone in Gotham knew who you were. Everyone knew you as the sexy, sly femme fatale who always got her way no matter the cost. You were a goddess. Females in Gotham would normally be petrified to have the confidence and power that you own. Even just working at the classy ‘Iceberg Lounge’ people would respect the floors you walked on. With millions of men drooling and tugging at your sequinned heels, begging for an ounce of attention as you deliver drinks and messages to your boss.

However, they never knew the true side of you. Sure, they established your mysterious ways to make men fawn and yearn for even a slight glance their way. But, they never knew who you were when the night called. Gotham’s most agile, seductive and infamously known thief and burglar in the whole of gotham.

Tugging on your skintight bodysuit, you swiftly rushed the inky latex onto your body, fiddling with the zipper which ended in the midst of your breasts, forcefully plunging them up. The material clinged firmly onto your fair skin, and fit you like a glove since the last time you’ve worn it. A melodic sensation of mischief trickled down your spine as you twirled your locks through the soft of your fingers, the sandy brown hair clutching onto the suit as you quickly collected the belongings and equipment needed for tonight’s schemes; and a smirk crept onto your faint lips.

“ femme fatale

always on the run

diamonds on my wrist

whiskey on my tongue „

The shattering of a reflective glass splattered like watercolored paint onto the cool, marbled floor, leaving an open space for fluorescent beams of silver moonlight to pour through, drowning the room in a luminous ember. 

The tranquil ambiance was soon interrupted when you quickly realised your mission. Swiftly swaying, you made your way to the jewellery display, peering at each of the rectangular, glass containers which secured each sentimental crystal. After picking the lock seamlessly, you slowly reached for the antique jewel, wrapping the soft, translucent gemstone inside the palm of the glove. The jewel reflected a shimmer from the gleam of the moon; an overworldly beauty traced upon it.

Suddenly, an alarm went off. Then another. Then another; the blaring noise agitating your ear canals. And then you were pulled away along with a strong pair of hands covering your mouth, smudging your lined lips and a hand gripped tightly around your waist. The figure hauled you away, pushing you against a wall; the cool brick against rubbing your back, spiking chills and your hairs on the back of your neck to rise.

“—Don’t speak.” An uncomfortably familiar voice muttered. His hand still on your mouth, covering your ability to curse him out as his head peaks around the corner to check for other criminals.

Glaring up at him with narrowed eyes, the light shone into his crimson mask; milky eyes disguised against his true identity. Gazing down, you could barely make out the murky suit he was wearing, the red hood symbol on the chest area and although your sight was a blurry haze, the clear display of his toned abdomen send veins of arousal to your core. Undeniably and unethically.

You managed to pull his hand off if your mouth, and the words “ Red, what the fuck are yo— “ could barely escape your mouth before he slammed you against the wall to get you to stop speaking as he noticed criminals run past. A light groan fell from your lips, and seeped into the material of his gloves; the warm of your breath igniting against his palm and in that moment, he scowled down at you.

Steadily removing his palm from your mouth, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. Fast enough that he could probably hear it through his mask. “ Stay here, ‘m gonna go take care of this quick. “ his annoying voice echoed through his mask. You only pierced your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest before he quickly went to go and fight the criminals. His tall shadow swaying further away, and you couldn’t help but notice him look back to make sure you were still there.

You just stood there and watched as Red Hood took care of the criminals, putting them in their place and leaving them unconscious. With snark, he walked over to you, his hands flying up in the air in defence as you were about to open your lips parted, getting ready to curse him out.

“ Jesus, Red.. —you stalkin’ me or somethin’?! “ your voice was only a groan, a stubborn one at that. You were frustrated at him as he interfered with your carefree mission; but you were also pissed because he didn’t think you could handle those criminals alone. It made an infuriated glow grind down your spine, and one that made you seemed belittled against him.

He only scoffed, tilting his head at your ignorant comment before he sighed. “ Just give back what you stole, doll..“ Your brows raised at his hilarious joke, he seriously thought you were going to give back what you took? “ finders keepers..” you couldn’t deny your mind was corrupted by a foreign haze after he mummer his nickname for you; ‘doll’.

“.. and losers—” were your last words before you inched closer, and suddenly attacking him with a sly punch in the hip, and then a kick in the rib. A harsh groan arose form his mouth, and he fell to the ground, the brisk marble against his knee caps. You rapidly ran away, avoiding turning back. Part of you knew he could’ve easily chased after you, part of him knee he could’ve easily chased after you, but he didn’t. Instead he just turned on his heel, observing you dim into the shadows.

PT 1 .