#makes a show of popping your hood and bending over it to look at the engine and the whole time ur trying not to oogle her ass

[shouyuus]

TO THE ANON THAT SENT THE MECHANIC!VI ASK. how r u reading my mind im not even kidding:

I MADE THAT NOTE 5 DAYS AGO bc i was thinking about EXACTLY UR ASK no like I WILL WRITE IT. TRUST. i just have. so many ideas. so many aus. not enough time (i blame my work holy shit im flying out at fucking 8am tomorrow i should sleep but im OUT HERE FURIOUSLY WRITING PITFIGHTER VI HCS)

[missdynamighttt]

feining for frat boy katsuki…

it was hot. loud. half the girls were already screaming over shirtless frat boys grinding against windshields. your friend dragged you out with a “come on, it’s for charity!” and now you’re standing in the corner with a lukewarm lemonade and zero expectations.

you didn’t even want to come to this stupid fraternity fundraiser.

your roommate dragged you out with the promise of half-naked frat boys, but all you’ve seen so far are drenched freshmen trying to flex their way into a hernia.

but then you see him.

he’s got his back turned at first—lean muscle, golden skin, red swim trunks slung way too low on his hips. sunlight catches the water dripping down his back like it’s staged. and when he turns around?

game over. he’s gorgeous.

sharp jaw, wild blonde hair flattened from water, a cocky little smirk on his face as he wrings a sponge out over his head, totally aware of the stares.

and he sees you. right away. ruby eyes locked with yours and gives the most arrogant little up-nod like, yeah. you’re next.

you try to act unaffected. fail immediately.

he saunters over, sudsy bucket in one hand, water dripping down his abs like it’s a fucking calvin klein ad. stops right in front of you, eyeing your car, then you, then your car again. “you the one drivin’ this piece of shit?”

you blink. “excuse me?!”

he shrugs but you can see a little grin tugging on the corner of his mouth, smug and unbothered. “relax. i’ll make it look brand new.”

he puts the bucket down, saunters over, and damn—he’s even hotter up close. tall. muscles for days. and that little scar on his cheek? unfair.

then, leaning closer, voice low: “the name's katsuki bakugo. what’s yours, sweet girl?”

you tell him. maybe a little breathless.

he repeats it once—slow, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “hm. yeah. i like that.”

and then he goes to work. but not just on the car.

katsuki bakugo washes that car like he’s auditioning for the dirtiest boy band you’ve ever seen. dropping the sponge just to bend over in front of you, ass on full display. making eye contact when he slides his hand over the hood like he’s caressing it. watering himself down with a hose and shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial from hell.

by the time he’s done, your car is sparkling. and so are you—flushed, flustered.

he tosses the sponge into the bucket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. “lemme know if you need a private wash sometime.”

and then he walks away, with you watching the water dripping down the curve of his spine, no better than a teenage boy ogling the back of a girl's bikini. you swear you black out for a second too.

it’s only a few hours after the car wash before he slides in your dms, smooth but dirty. you’re in your room, still reeling from whatever the hell that was, when your phone buzzes.

king.explosionmurder has sent you a message.

(yeah. that’s his actual handle. because of course it is.) then, you open it.

king.explosionmurder:

can't stop thinking about the girl with the shittiest car and the cutest fuckin’ face.

you stare. then another message pops up.

king.explosionmurder:

u free tonight?

or maybe you're too busy being adorable somewhere else?

your heart does a thing. you type out a reply—something just barely cocky enough to match him:

you:

depends

you always this forward?

king.explosionmurder:

only for girls with shitty taste in cars

so, only you

let me buy you a drink, sweet girl?

you:

fine

you can buy me a drink, frat boy

but for the record?

my taste in cars is not that shitty

king.explosionmurder:

whatever you say beautiful

8 pm, sunset bar down 5th ave

don't be late

katsuki shows up five minutes early, in a black tee that clings to his chest and jeans that should be illegal. hair still messy from his post-car-wash shower. when you walk in, his eyes track you like you’re the only person in the room.

“tch. thought you were gonna flake.”

you roll your eyes. “you’d cry if i did.”

his mouth twitches. “like a damn baby.”

then the date just... hits different. it wasn't what you expected. sure, it’s packed with college students and frat bros, but in the back corner booth? with him?

it’s quiet. comfortable. almost… intimate.

he’s not much of a talker, but with you? he tries. you ask about his major—he’s an aspiring pro-hero, of course—and he asks about yours, grumbling when you light up talking about it, because “fuck, that smile’s gonna kill me.”

and even though he’d die before saying it out loud, the minute you take a sip of your drink and laugh at something dumb he says? he’s gone. head over heels.

he walks you back to your dorm with his hand on the small of your back, even though it’s barely a ten-minute walk. says “text me when you’re in” even though he literally watched you unlock your door. stands there, gruff and gorgeous, waiting.

“gonna invite me?” he asks, tone teasing.

you shake your head, grinning. “not on the first date, i'm not.”

he groans dramatically. “damn. fuckin’ killin’ me here.”

you grin. “goodnight, frat boy.”

but he doesn’t move right away.

just stands there under the warm porch light, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to work off the ache of not touching you again. his shirt clings to him in the summer heat, his jaw sharp in the glow, but it’s his eyes that freeze you in place.

not hard. not sharp. not the glare he usually levels at the world.

but soft. heavy. like you’ve stolen the breath from his lungs and he doesn’t even want it back.

he looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

he takes one small step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his chest, close enough that if either of you moved just an inch, you’d be kissing.

“goodnight, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and rough, like gravel laced with honey.

it hits you somewhere deep. like he’s branding the words into you.

and then—he actually smiles. a real one. lopsided, shy, the kind of smile you’d never expect from someone who threatens to body slam people over couch cushions.

then he turns and walks away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down, like if he looks back even once, he’ll do something stupid like run back and kiss you senseless.

you close the door behind you, heart thudding so hard you swear your roommate can hear it.

you’re screwed. so screwed.

because things after that? they move fast.

to everyone else, he was the guy who'd scream if you left dishes in the sink, throw a beer can at you if you sat on his side of the couch, and threaten to body slam you if you so much as breathe near him.

but the entire frat house knew that their loud, grumpy, terrifyingly efficient frat dad—had a soft spot the size of a planet. and that soft spot? was for you.

you’re the only person allowed in his room during his grumpy post-practice naps. the only one who can touch his hair without him flinching. he’d grumble when you flick his forehead when he was being dramatic but he'd let you.

he might curse under his breath, but when you’d slide onto his lap during movie night, he'd wrap an arm around you like it was instinct. like protecting you came as naturally as breathing.

he had snacks stocked in the mini fridge (not for him, you liked them). he hands you your favorite snack and grumbles, “was on sale. don’t get used to it,” even though it’s never on sale but he bought six of them anyway.

and when finals week hits? he’s a damn soldier for you.

caffeine runs. your favorite takeout. quiet growls at anyone who tries to talk to you in the library. he reads your flashcards like they’re enemy coordinates and quizzing you becomes his personal mission.

but the best part? the tiny, quiet moments in between.

like when he’s losing at mario kart and you’d sit in his lap while he played, steal his fries, kiss his cheek mid-rant just to shut him up.

or when you were too tired to walk back to your place, you just curl up in his bed. not only does he let you, he tucks the blanket around you and kisses your forehead so soft it makes your chest ache.

and somehow, all of that was like magic.

sure, he might’ve acted like the world’s most chaotic, aggressive frat president, but when it came to you? he was all bark, all bite… and all heart.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[florencebirdsong]

Wolf Hunt

Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Rio needs to get out some of those animal instincts

Tags: primal play, biting, Rio has fangs and claws you’re welcome, strap on (r receiving), predator/play, wolf Rio, prey reader, 

Words: 1,040

Authors Note: I definitely didn’t make Rio a wolf because Death is a wolf in puss and boots. It was absolutely not a deciding factor. Ahem. Anyway, short and not so sweet

masterlist | ao3

You feel her before you see her. Her heady presence fills the small clearing and you eagerly look into the dark. The fire has ruined your ability to see far but the sound of shifting dirt points to where she’ll pop up. You resist the urge to get up when you can make out her silhouette. Being too eager means you’re more likely to get stuck away from the warmth of the fire.

You tilt your head curiously as she stops outside of the firelight. Her hood isn’t up and the flickering fire light shows that it’s not her skull face. She smiles and you smile back. It takes you a moment to notice the shine of her teeth. Of the fangs poking past her lips. 

You freeze. Her smile widens. Your eyes drop to her hands which are now tipped in claws. You bolt like a rabbit. Her deep laugh echoes behind you.

Branches claw at you and roots try to trip your feet as you run. You can’t tell how close she is and you don’t risk looking back. A wolf howling behind you turns your racing heart into a gallop. You take a wild turn and then another. There’s a river that, if you can get across it, you might be able to use to lose her.

You try and zigzag your way towards it. Unpredictable moves giving you an edge in your race against Death. But they’re also a risk. 

Another sharp pivot puts your foot into a tiny shrub. You crash to the ground but use your momentum to roll and shove yourself up again. The precious seconds cost you. Huffing growls fill the air behind you and you try to force down the panic. She’s gaining with every step. Your shoulder catches the trunk of a tree and you stumble. She’s so close you swear you can feel her breath. You prepare yourself to hit the ground. The shock is always what does you in. It comes a second later.

She tackles you but you’re quick enough to wriggle out of her grip before she can cage you in. You think you’re free until her claws wrap around your ankle and you slam into the ground. Her hands are quick to find your legs and hold them down.

You try to kick her off of you but it’s too late. She kneels where her hands were. She slams your shoulders onto the ground. Her claws dig into your skin. Trying to shove her off is useless so you go for her elbows. They don’t bend. She growls and moves one hand to push your head back, baring your neck to her. Your hands move to her shoulders to get some leverage as you try and buck her off. Then you try to unbalance her by shoving her chin up. She growls and bites your fingers. You yelp and pull back instinctively. She huffs a laugh. You bare your teeth at her but stop when she does it back. Her fangs are so much sharper than yours. 

You grip her wrist to try and free your head but she pushes until you feel a strain and you have to stop. Your hands hover, unsure what to do next as her eyes run over your captured form. You decide fuck it and jab at her throat. She chokes at the feeling but Death doesn’t need to breathe. Your hands are forced down beside your head and she growls in your face. 

You growl back, but it turns into a whimper when she sinks her sharp fangs into your throat. You don’t attempt to push her off, knowing ripping her teeth out of you will only hurt worse. Your body goes limp. She growls in satisfaction. 

Her hips grind against you and you whimper. She’s got her teeth into you. There’s no escape now.

She ruts against you and the sharp ache in your neck makes it take too long for you to notice the hard thing hiding in her pants.

She finally releases your throat and you whimper at the fresh sting. She tries to pull your pants down and growls in frustration, ripping them open with her claws instead. You flinch but they don’t snag you. She lines up her strap and fills you with one thrust before her hand returns to your wrist. You hadn’t even thought to move it. There’s no thoughts now.

Rio doesn’t give you time to adjust or work you up. She ruts into you like the animal she is. Grunting and growling as you whimper and mewl below her. Her nose in your neck constantly nudging the wound on your neck, her hot breath doing nothing to soothe it.

You sloppily meet her thrusts as the stretch turns from painful to delicious, breathing heavy as pleasure floods through you. She bottoms out every time, skin slapping yours as she chases her own high. 

She grunts and bites you again, right above the first mark. A sign she’s close to coming. You whine and struggle against her hold. You aren’t close enough yet. Her jaw clenches tighter, her nails dig into your skin and her thrusts turn punishing. One hand leaves your wrist and finds your clit, pinching harshly. A high-pitched sound leaves your throat and you arch into her, sharp pleasure crashing into you. Her hips do that stuttering thing that shows she’s coming and you fall over the edge together. She’s no nicer, taking what she wants, but you’re too full to care. 

She stills, still inside of you, before laying down on top of you and nuzzling your neck. The movements zing along the lingering pleasure.

Panting, you lay there as the waves ebb out of you. Rio nuzzles and licks over her new marks, knowing it takes you longer than her to come down. You whimper when she hits a particularly tender spot. You can feel her purr. 

Her tongue pokes and prods until you’re limp under her. Satisfaction rolls off of her in waves. You won’t be about to run again and she’s marked you for all to see. You’re hers until the next hunt, when she’ll need to prove her claim all over again.

[kandyscorner]

Do I Know You? Part 34

Synopsis: A car chase and you meet Batman and Robin.

Note: No more in the middle of something cliffhangers. We do get a very short bit of some more backstory and it’s super random but honestly, I think it works. Also, Jason’s been bleeding out of his leg for a while so he’s a little out of it and it shows. Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist

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“Are we about to steal a car?” you ask as you reach the vehicle. His hand settles on the roof of the car, and he speaks into his helmet he’d been carrying.

“Oracle, you mind unlocking this car for us?” he bends his leg slightly as he waits for her and you watch as he grits his teeth in pain. After a moment of silence, he tries the handle, and it pops open.

“Is it stealing a car if its unlocked?” it takes you a moment to realize he’s making a joke in regard to your question and the assistance of Oracle. You don’t laugh and he sighs, “Get in I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not,” you step in front of the door stopping his movement. If you could see his eyes, you’re sure you would be getting a stink eye.

“What? You’re gonna drive. You don’t even have a car.”

“I have a license, dingdong. And you’re in no state to drive. You look like you’re going to pass out, I think you’ve lost to much blood.” Your heart jumps as he suddenly steps closer to you, pressing you against the car.

“I’m supposed to be saving you, not the other way around.” He says quietly. His gloved fingers press into the side of your neck, and you flinch. His hand leaves you again with a look of defeat on his part.

“You did save me,” you rush out, “you got me out of the building before it blew up and now this car is unlocked. I would like to stay alive, so let me drive. You can tell me where to go. I don’t know Gotham’s streets like you do.”

You have the stare down of a century and the longer you stare, the more pale you think he becomes. Your stare breaks when Oracle’s voice comes through his helmet again.

“You’re going to have company any minute now. Can you keep this lover’s quarrel for later?”

You speak up before Red Hood could even open his mouth, “Get in the passenger seat now. This is not a debate.”

He stares at you for another second and Oracle speaks up in slightly more worried voice, “Listen to her, Hood. You don’t have time to argue.”

You watch him roll his jaw and you know he wants to argue. You know that, if he had the strength, he’d shove you in the back seat and take over driving. But he doesn’t have the strength nor the time. He finally shuffles over to the passenger side door. It’s only once he’s sliding in that you slip into the driver’s seat.

As you adjust the seat, the car starts by itself, and you throw a glance at the red helmet in Red Hood’s lap. You silently thank Oracle for it because you’re not sure you were ready to hotwire a car. You strap on your seatbelt and stare at Red in wait.

“What?” he asks clearly still miffed about the driving thing.

“Seatbelt.”

“I’m not going to put a seatbelt on. Just drive.” He grumbles.

“People die in car accidents every day. This isn’t a debate. Put your seatbelt on.”

He at least has the gall to look ashamed before clicking his seatbelt into place. You turn back to the steering wheel and place your hands on it. The last time you drove a car was back in Central City when the accident happened. Despite your insistence to drive, you felt terrified as a number of “what if’s” flitted about your brain.

Nothing breaks you out of anxious overthinking more than a gunshot. The first one is louder than you anticipated considering you’re in a car. The second one makes you move. You shift the car into gear and hit the gas. The car jerks with the suddenness then takes off. You follow the street you’re on, waiting for some sort of guidance.

You glance over at Red and find he seems kind of dazed. Your hand leaves the wheel to smack at his shoulder, “Where am I going?”

He hesitates, which doesn’t seem promising, “Turn left on Warner.”

“Hood, I don’t know where that is. You have to tell me when to turn.” You sigh glancing in your rearview mirror, “We’re being followed. How did they get a car so fast?”

You watch the vehicle behind you in trepidation. A car chase. You used to be good at those before you vowed to never drive a car the way you used to. With a secondary glance, you find someone climbing out the passenger window with a gun.

“Shit, change of plans.” You mumble and slam on the breaks, jerking the wheel to turn before hitting the gas again. Red Hood’s helmet tumbles from his lap to the floor as he holds on to the grab handle, his other hand grips onto the consol.

“Where are you going?” he practically shouts.

“I don’t know but they have guns, and I’d rather not get shot at, okay?!” You yell back. You press on the gas more when you spot them turning on to the street. Your gut instincts kick in, speeding up and slowing down on turns, back wheels slightly drifting as you try to lose them. You slow when you find them missing from your rearview mirror and you turn into a throughway alley. You turn the lights off on the car and wait.

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Red Hood asks and you glance at him, still pale and now looking a little sick. He peels his fingers from the vice grip he had on the handle. You keep checking your mirrors and windows.

“I used to be a street racer back in Central City. I got really good at getting away from the cops.” You admit. It surprised you, the way the words just slipped out of your mouth, like some subconscious part of your mind could stand the idea of lying to him about it.

“You’re from Central city?” he asks and your eyes peek over it his features.

“That’s what you got from that?”

Before you get an answer, you’re suddenly blinded by the headlights of another car in the alley. You hear it rev, jerking towards you. With a glance to your rearview mirrors, you find a lineup of men blocking your way out back.

“What is with these people?” you mumble in confusion, mostly because this didn’t make sense to you. If Black Mask wanted you to spy on Red Hood, why wasn’t he just letting you go?

“You think if I back up, they’ll move?” you ask Red Hood and when you glance at him you find him pulling one of his guns from its holster, shifting to roll down the window. You shift the car in reverse and grab his shoulder to stop him from climbing out the window.

“Absolutely not,” you hit the gas and watch your side mirrors to avoid hitting the side of the alley. You get a glimpse of the men scattering and it comforts you that you probably did not hit one of them. You repeat the process of losing them, taking cross streets and sharp turns. You have no idea where you are, but you don’t want them to find you again, so you just keep driving.

That is until Red pats at your arm and points to an alley. You turn into it, less than pleased when you notice it’s a dead end. You put the car in to park anyway, turning off anything aside from the heat. With the adrenaline from driving, you hadn’t noticed it but no longer running for your life made you realize how cold you still were from your swim. You glance over at your passenger. His head lays against the headrest and you wonder if his eyes are closed.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask after a moment of silence. He laughs, quiet and low. His head tips towards you, a sly smirk working its way up his lips.

“Baby, you were kidnapped and nearly got blown up and you’re asking if I’m okay?”  You shift in your seat, suddenly unsettled by the way he called you baby. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it just made you want to squirm in a way that you only did with Jason.

“Don’t call me that.” You say and ignore the questioning sound that escapes him, “You got shot and almost drowned. Yes, I’m asking if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, Sweetheart.” He stretches his arms as best he can in the tight space with a groan and you’re once again distraught about how his pet names for you make you think of Jason.

You hadn’t thought about it in a long time, didn’t have reason to, the way you had originally thought about Jason and Red Hood’s similarities. With Red Hood right in front of you and your months spent with Jason in close quarters, your jar was spilling over with what your mind thought was obvious. Like it was something you already knew rather than a guess.

“Why’d you stop racing? Is it because of what happened with Natalie?” His words bring you out of your spiral only to throw you into another one.

“What?” you question in disbelief because there is no way you heard what you thought you heard.

“The car accident, is that why you stopped street racing?” He clarifies which only makes it worse. You hadn’t told Red Hood a single thing about that, about your life before Gotham.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you,” You scoff and shake your head.

He has the nerve to sound surprised, “What?”

“What?” you repeat the question back in upset. The only way he could know about that was if he researched you, one rare news article and police records.

 “You have no sense of privacy. You did research on me. I just can’t- You’ve made me a target for bad people, I killed someone and now you’re telling me that instead of just talking to me like a normal person about my life, you find the information elsewhere. I hate you” The words slip out before you can stop, your agitation making your ears ring. He says you name in a startled placating way that just feels patronizing.

“I can’t do this. I need some air.” You undo your buckle and climb out of the car, slamming the door shut which considering your current circumstances is not your best move but you’re so frustrated with him.

The cuts on your feet sting and you’re sure you’re going to get some unknow infection from standing on the wet concrete of the alley, but you just don’t have it in you to care. You were angry. You wanted to throw something or hit something. With nothing nearby to do such a thing, you cry instead.

You sink into a squat leaning against the car door and sob into your hands. Living in Gotham was supposed to make your life dull and insignificant. You moved so everyone would leave you alone. No more stink eyes that made you think the accident was your fault and no more flat condolences that meant nothing.

Instead, you were being overconsumed by feelings that you couldn’t place. Confusion, fear, and upset ruled you if you thought too hard about anything unless it was Jason. You never thought you’d find solace in a person like that ever. You wanted him with you more than anything at that moment, but you an inkling from a rattling Jar that if you could call him, he wouldn’t respond at the moment.

“Rough night?” a deep voice asks, and it makes you flinch almost falling over had your hand not landed in a puddle of what you hope is just water. Your eyes shoot up to the voice, following the lines of a black cap until you find his face.

“Batman?” you asked with slight awe. Of all the vigilantes of Gotham, Batman was the only one you knew about but only because he was one of the OG Justice league members. When you were in your teens, after you had discovered Wally and Barry’s secret, you had harped on them to tell you everything about the league members. They had denied you mostly, but Barry did tell you about the main three: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman. He thought Batman was actually a vampire until he started bringing Robin along.

“You should not be standing in these alleys with no shoes. There is nothing sanitary here.” You’re even more startled by the younger voice and you have to turn your head to find the boy on the other side of you. Subdued red, yellows, and greens hidden by his own cape, a hood pulled over his head.

You push yourself to stand up, wiping your wet hand against the silver fabric of your dress, making a point to not look at what color it might be. You look back and forth between the duo, unsure of what you were supposed to do now.

“What’s happening?” you finally voice your confusion. Robin steps closer to you, far closer than you expected.

“Your alert is still going off and Oracle says Red Hood has gone quiet. We wanted to make sure you were alright.” He answers quietly. There was an itch in your mind with the way he spoke, the way he pouted. You already know this boy. You looked away before the thought could finalize. You were done with the whole civilian identity thing. No more guessing.

“I’m okay. Red Hood, he got shot and almost drowned. He’s playing passenger princess right now.” You share the information flatly, nearing insult. If either of them noticed they don’t say anything yet.

Batman rounds the vehicle to the passenger side; you move to watch him go. He opens the door and disappears from your view momentarily.

“I don’t need your help, old man. Get your hands off me.” You hear Red grumble. His voice is weaker than you remember from moments prior. Then Batman reappears again bringing a limp Red Hood with him. Your surprised when he hauls the bulk of the man up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He walks down the alley, Red complaining the entire time, to a car blocking the entrance. How had you missed that pulling up?

A tap at your elbow makes you turn back to Robin, still hovering close to you. He offers you a black cloth and gestures to your eyes. Right, you had been crying. You thank him and wipe at your under eyes. You use the cloth to wipe at your hand too, still unsure of what you had placed your hand in.

“Your upset with him,” he states as you wipe between your fingers. You want to scoff but the boy sounds concerned, and you have no reason to be upset with him.

“It’s complicated,” you answer. It makes you think of what you said to Damian. I have a lot of emotions when it comes to your brother. It’s complicated. The similarity is one you wish you hadn’t thought about because you were adamantly ignoring how much Robin seemed like Damian. Absolutely not. You were not going to think about it.

Batman returns, thankfully pulling you from your thoughts. He’s silent for a moment and you wonder if he and Robin are having a silent conversation.

“Red Hood tells me you can’t go back to your apartment. Do you have somewhere you could go? Someone to pick you up?” He asks as he faces you more. You open your mouth and then close it, stopping your reply. Jason. You throw a glance at the car where Red Hood.

You had a terrible feeling that if you had them call Jason, he would be unavailable, despite the fact that he had had no plans for the night aside from being with you. If they did call him and he was in fact unavailable, there would be no way for you to deny that Jason and Red Hood were one in the same. It was too much of a risk, you didn’t want to find out. Besides you didn’t have his number memorized.

You think of the card you had been flipping in your hand all week, mostly due to forgetting it was in your pocket. You had looked at it in boredom enough that you had the number nearly memorized, you hoped.

“I have someone I could call,” you pat at your dress redundantly, you had no phone.

Batman pulls something out of his belt and hands it over to you. Your lip quirks in amusement when you take it.

“A flip phone?”

“A burner,” Robin corrects you, “it’s harder to track.”

“Oh,” You say surprised, “that makes sense.”

You open the phone and type in what you hope is the correct number. You stare at it, reiterating the numbers in your head and willing the card to your memory. Evidently Batman takes your hesitation as a request for privacy.

“We’ll give you a moment. Robin.” There’s a silent conversation between them again, an argument you think this time, before robin huffs and steps away from you.

You finally hit the call button and bring the phone to your ear. As it rings, you tap a nail against the roof of the car, anxious that you got the wrong number or that he wont answer you or that he won’t come to help you. All of which are valid. It’s not like you’ve known him or the family for very long.  

“Hello. Alfred speaking.” The distinctly British voice across the line makes your shoulders slack.

“Hi Alfred, I, um, I need help.” You thought there would be more questions, considering it must be the middle of the night, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“How may I assist you, miss?”

“Thank you, Alfred,” you say for the first time of what you think will be many thank you’s of the night, ��I need a ride and a place to stay, I guess. But I don’t want to be a bother. You can say no.”

Your anxiety gets the better of you and your request. You spare a glance at Batman and Robin. Robin’s eyes are near pinned to you and you think he was going to kill you if it wasn’t for the way his head would turn at random, searching for unseen signs of danger.

“You’re not a bother, miss. I’ll head to the car now and where are you, my dear?” You want to cry at the way Alfred willing to drop anything, presumably sleep to come get you.

“Thank you,” your voice chokes slightly but you turn towards batman and Robin, “I don’t know. Give me a second.”

Your feet sting as you take a step towards them. You wince and Robin is quick to halt your moments, returning to your side in haste.

“What is the matter?” he asks.

“Where are we?” you return in question. He puts his hand out, fingers flexing and you stare.

“Give me the phone and I’ll tell them where we are.” He tells you impatiently. You set the phone into his hand, and he wanders away from you, rattling off street names you’ve never heard of.

“You should sit,” you flinch at the nearness of batman’s voice.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you people? Ever heard of making a sound.” You startle. He doesn’t say anything, but you do think you see the barest hint of a smirk as he opens the car door for you. Your feet hurt enough to not argue. Robin returns as you settle in the seat still turned with your legs hanging out.

“He will be here soon.” He passes the burner phone back to Batman and you once again watch as they have silent conversation. Batman makes quiet hum before nodding.

“Red Hood needs medical care,” he says turning to you, “Robin will stay with you until your ride arrives. I’ve had Oracle turn off your alert. Its lucky you have it.”

With that he nods and turns back to his car. Your eyes follow him as he returns to the sleek vehicle, he had stuffed Red Hood into before your gaze refocuses on Robin, leaning on the car next to your open door.

Should you talk to him? Is that something you are supposed to do? You remember Darla telling you, long before your life became a mess, that most vigilantes didn’t chat with civilians. Between that and your mind suddenly telling you that this boy was definitely Damian. You decide to keep quiet. You don’t need to give your mind more reasons to connect dots you don’t want connected.

“Your hurt.” He mutters and you think he sounds worried. You unbend your knees; feet appearing more in your eyesight. You wiggle your toes and even that hurts, small scraps even there.

“I think I stepped on some glass when we jumped out the window.”

“He had you jump out of a window. That sounds just like him. You are not trained for any of this.” He sounds miffed and you’re almost pleased that you’re not the only upset with Red Hood.

You laugh quietly, “You’re telling me. But there was a bomb. We would’ve died if he hadn’t…”

You trail off, the night suddenly catching up to you. Your chest seizes slightly. You almost died again. And now you’re supposed to spy on someone you’ve been upset with for months but evidently still very much care about.

You shiver and bury your face in your hands with a groan. You flinch at the fabric placed across your lap and pull your hands. Robin stands in the same spot as before now missing his caped hood. In your lap lay the heap of fabric.

“You are barely what’s consider decent, and your dress is still wet. It is hardly warm tonight. You needn’t get a cold on top of your injuries.” He mutters. You stare at the boy, hands curling into the fabric of his cape before shifting it around your body, warming up nearly instantly.

“Thank you, Robin,” you say, and you think the boy looks flustered for a second before returning to a more stoic look. There’s a beat of silence and he speaks up again.

“Why did Black Mask take you?”

You panic, just for a second. Did he know what Black Mask had asked of you? What you’d agreed to do? Your mind settles again when you find his face holds nothing but curiosity. He just wanted to know what happened.

“Its Red Hood’s fault.” You start and wince at the way its sounds, the immediate blame you’ve placed, “It’s a little bit my fault too.” You correct.

“Red Hood used to climb through my window, and I’d share tea or food with him.” You glance at the boy, mild surprise on his features before he’s nodding for you to continue, “One of Penguin’s men saw him, and they figured out it was my apartment. So, they took me. Penguin thought I knew where Red Hood’s safehouses were.”

“You don’t.” Robin says, almost like he’s defending you, “This is the same night as the incident with Ted Jackson, correct?”

You tense at the second reminder of the night about the man you killed. Like your own nightmares weren’t enough, you had to confront it in real life.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly before quickly moving on, “Apparently, Penguin and Black Mask chat and agreed that I would be good bait to get Red Hood killed. Penguin told him where I lived.”

“You didn’t move?” the question is imploring and near chastising. You shake your head at it.

“No, I didn’t, and I know I should’ve. I already had this conversation with Red. I don’t need it again.” You sigh, sagging into your seat more.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to offend.” The boy moves, a quiet rustling that you don’t turn to look at so caught up in who you should be blaming more at the moment, you or Red Hood.

A hiss escapes you at the sudden sting of pain on your knees. You look up and find Robin pressing an alcohol swab to your knee. You hadn’t realized you were hurt there too, probably from the rough concrete of the loading dock. He offers you the one on your knee and then another.

“For your other knee.” He says as he presses it into you before he’s shifting to your feet.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure its fine,” you mumble pressing your feet back away from him.

“I stand by what I said earlier. These alleys are hardly sanitary. You could get a number of infections.” You hadn’t asked what type of infection but you’re suddenly being taught about all the horrible infections you could get from an unclean wound, how they could slowly kill you. You let him clean and bandage your feet as he talks.

It’s as he pins the last wrapping on your foot, that another car pulls up. Your whole-body tenses, a sudden fear that despite your crazy driving, they found you again. You were ready to haul Robin into the back seat and drive away. Until Alfred steps out of the car and walks over to you quickly.

“Robin,” he nods to the boy now standing by your open door before turning to you, “Are you alright, miss?”

“I’m alive, Alfred.” You say with a weak smile. He gives you a concerned nod.

“Well, that’s as good a start as any. Let’s get you to the car then.”

Additional note: Great News (depending who you talk too) she's moving into the Manor! At least for a little while. The whole family is going to be in their business its going to be crazy. Moving forward, Red Hood’s going to disappear for a bit again and it’ll just be Jason. They will continue to be a disaster so at least there is some consistency. As always thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh, @anuttellaa, @nekotaetae, @redsakura101, @sleepy-head1, @aejabba, @asteria33, @princessbl0ss0m, @sinnamon-bunn, @wholelottalove05, @invinciblewaffles, @mischief-somehow-managed, @4rachn3, @thy-crimson-king

[authorhjk1]

I also really enjoyed reading RV doing cosplay for reader.. Would you be so kind as to making one for ITZY too?

Yeji

You were surprised seeing her dress like this. After all, she just asked you to take her on a coffee date, so you thought she would go out like all idols do, when they don't want to be seen. But instead Yeji looked hotter than the summer heat and more recognizable than ever. When the two of you reach your car, you're surprised Yeji asks you to pop the hood. You quickly do as she says, before walking over to her. Your eyes grow wide when you see Yeji lift the top and secure it, but stays bend over the hood. While she looks down at the engine, your eyes are glued to her tight midriff. A couple drops of sweat on her skin glisten in the summer sun.

"Wow. Nice headers. You've got a high-rise double pump carburetor. That's pretty impressive."

You heard these words so many times already. But hearing them come out of Yeji's mouth, with her bent over your hood, pretending to examine your car's engine and her tight tummy on display...

Ryujin

She didn't tell you the whole plan. But just enough to make you worried. Ryujin is dominant in and outside the bedroom. And sometimes her roleplaying is very hard on you. This time is no exception. You lie on the bed, pretending to be asleep, when she opens the bedroom door. She only told you to play along. And now you know what she means.

Ryujin is standing in the door, her brown skirt reaching her knees. Her upper body is hidden by a tight brown top and white furr is draped over her shoulders. Maybe wolf, or polar bear or something. Her mischievous, almost dangerous smirk makes you swallow hard. Your eyes focus on her hands. Her left is holding a round shield. Her right an axe.

You get off the bed, but Ryujin is faster. She uses her shield to pin you against the wall. Her axe dangerously close your throat.

"Looks like I found myself a new slave."

Chaeryeong

"Chaeryeong?"

You yell through the apartment, but you don't get answer.

"Why are all the lights out?"

You step into the living room, which is dark as well. The only light you see is the small light on your music box, which is standing on the coffee table.

"Chaeryeong?"

You wait for a while, but it stays quiet.

Suddenly a sharp snap-hiss sound interrupts the silence. You know that sound. And you're looking at the source. The red lightsaber, which is giving off a steady hum, is being held by Chaeryeong, who is standing in the door. The red light illuminates her black leather outfit. A wooshing sound cuts through the air as she lifts the lightsaber near her face. The red light makes her look so evil.

"If you are not with me, then you're my enemy."

Lia

You don't know if she is supposed to be a Disney princesses, or if it's just a random dress, but Lia looks great in it. She twirls around for you once more, her dress lifting off the floor and showing her feet.

You didn't expect her to come out of the bedroom like this. Even when she said she wants to try something new. But you like it nonetheless.

"My lady."

You give her a quick bow with a smile on your face.

"I'm in need of some assistance. Would you be so kind to follow me into my quarters?"

You laugh at her choice of words, but you follow after her after taking her hand.

Yuna

"Daddy!"

Yuna surprises you as she walks out of the bedroom and in your direction. With no build up at all, she is suddenly standing in front of you wearing what seems to be a makeshift school uniform.

"I failed my exam again."

"Really?"

You luckily don't need much time to adapt to Yuna's sudden roleplaying.

"Yes. I hope you aren't going to spank me again?"

Her eyes, filled with lust, tell you that that's exactly what she is hoping for.

You close the book you were reading and put it to the side. Without a word, you pat your thigh. Yuna pouts, pretending to be disappointed, but moments later, she is bent over your lap.

[silkenwinger]

natural predator

ghost x reader, shifter x shifter. strangers to friends to lovers with a little push. based on this and this. MDNI. cw: stalking, implied manipulation, scent kink, mating cycles/in heat, the slightest dubious consent, biting, implied knotting (it's still rather vanilla). dividers by @/strangergraphics

There are many ways to pass the time. 

You can walk around the block once, twice, until the winter frostiness gives out. Clean your one room apartment from top to bottom, taking care in picking soft scents not to overwhelm your nose. Enter the same shop every Wednesday, never buying anything because it is expensive. It’s a way of living. Perhaps not the best. You wouldn’t know any other, now.

It wasn’t always like this. You used to have parents and friends. Shared dinners. Warm faces by your neck and vice versa. It was scary, seeing it all change. And not being able to do anything about it but flee, thinking it’d be fine somewhere else. A space for your kind doesn’t exist anywhere. You make one by picking a corner and sitting there. And you’re fine here. These past months have gone by smoothly, if a little lifeless.

The one light from the canopy outside keeps flickering beat by beat through the glass doors as you check the register.

“Real issue, that one,” says your manager, Joe. Joe is nice. He lets you do as you please as long as you do the bare minimum. It’s just the two of you, most evening and night shifts in this gas station, and he takes frequent naps he calls resting his eyes.

“When did the repair man say he’d come?”

“Between tomorrow and Friday.” It’s Monday. “I swear my eyes are about to pop open. It’s always just behind them.” He says, making a gesture towards his head.

You close the register. The shop’s jingle plays while you bend over to fix the leg of your pants. When you rise to your full height again, you see him.

Imposing. Dressed in black. Silent and overbearing. He’s wearing the usual surgical black mask, and a cap. Outside, he wears the sweatshirt’s hood on the latter, but he has the sense to take it off inside.

“Good evening,” says Joe, throwing the man a suspicious look. Joe is wary of anyone he can’t get a full report of age and provenience out of, not to mention someone who doesn’t entertain his small talk. Bar you, since you’re a great listener.

The man doesn’t answer. Just lingers on the “sports and health” section for a minute, before grabbing a powdered protein bottle and taking it straight to the counter. You grab it without even looking at him in the eye. Scanning it, you chance a look. His black eyes are focused on your hands, a scar runs on his temple, jagged. His hair looks almost white in the cold, artificial light, his hands in the sweatshirt’s pocket. His eyes leave your hands and meet yours. A sensation crawls on top of you: the need to run. You ignore it and unlock your elbows. Prey instinct isn’t well received in human society.

There’s no nicer way of saying he has a smell. It’s not unpleasant, not at all. But it’s not quite a scent you can name either. Not vanilla, nor a spicy breeze. Not even a heavy musk. It’s just… odd.

You drop the bottle on the counter and tell him his total. He pays cash. Always. His nails brush against your palm as he drops it in your hand, and your breath is quivering. You snatch off your hand in a rush. In the corner of your eye, you can see Joe glaring at the both of you. He must be thinking you’re loony. You more than him, since you’re neglecting basic customer service pleasantries. 

He leaves. Your shoulders relax. But you can still smell him all around. 

You take a walk to the storage room. 

—

You skip around, the limited space hindering your jumps. In the distance cars speed and drive away, the sound muted by the rustling of foliage around your legs. The full moon shows your way through the arms of the trees, silver rays making a stone path on the green high grass. Your ear tickles to the left when you hear a sound, some sort of raspy screeching that has you raise your head. Unsettled, you turn back from where you came from, the meat in your thighs turning sour.

Joe is still asleep, his shiny head falling over his chest. When he wakes and sees you sitting at the counter, he makes an off comment about your hair being messy, voice still slurred by sleep. You fix yourself through the metal reflection on the fridges’ handles and clean the dirt from your nose.

—

Two teenage girls keep shoving their phones in your face. So far from their conversation and monologue towards you, it seems they’re on the lookout for something they call a “dupe”— a lipstick or something. You tell them all the makeout you hold is by the register, on their left. Their expressions clearly show their dissatisfaction with the selection, hands slapping to their sides when they let go of something. 

“Girls! We have to go!” Yells the children’s mother from near the exit, and the twins huff in perfect synchrony. They give the makeout shelf a final disparaging look and exit the store, not minding you one bit. You finish stacking up the bandaids, the sunset outside flooding the enclosed space in orange. You go back to the register when you hear someone entering, so used to the shop’s jingle it’s not annoying anymore.

When the hooded man comes to stand before you, you don’t even think twice. There’s something weird in the air, and he hasn’t come in two days. Maybe he was busy. But the eyes and face you find aren’t of the blonde man, and the fabric covering his mouth isn’t that of a surgical mask. The startling blue colour of his irises freezes your mind. The barrel of a gun is pointed straight at you, an extension of the man’s long arm. 

The first instinct is always to run. But you find yourself stuck to the place, the thump of your heart resounding in your ears. The man is yelling at you, demanding you to open the register, the glossy finishing of the weapon almost blinding. Your right hand twitches, flexes. You’re sure he’s going to shoot you in the head. The muzzle of the gun is moving side to side, diagonally, shifting lightly enough that it would be almost imperceptible to less acute eyes. The man is shaking. The scent is that of fear.

He shifts as if hit by a train. An unstoppable force. The robber falls to the ground, his body making a loud thunk, the gun dropping from his hold. The spell broken, you lean over the counter, your sweaty hands holding the edge of it. On the ground, the man is on his belly, a bigger body over him. You recognize the cold shine of blond hair.

The police come after you finally call them. You think the blond man might have knocked the robber out, because he’s still prone on the ground while he sits on his legs. He hasn’t said a word to you. Just sent you a glare that said call the cops. While the police take the man away, you call Joe and tell him everything, still looking at the mystery man through the glass doors. Joe says you can close the shop, his voice worried. 

You find him still smoking outside. Shifting on your feet, you take his appearance in more carefully. The scent is less intense now, covered by the smoke and dispersed in the open air. The only lights are that of the canopy and the lit cigarette. He’s regarding it as if it’s an ancient book worth revering, the stick looking dwarfed in between his fingers. Tapping your heels, you tuck your nose inside the neck of your coat.

“Thank you,” you let out.

He looks at you like you’ve told him to go jump off a bridge. The blood in your vein chills. 

“Common where you’re from?” He asks, his voice even more rough than you’ve expected. You swallow and take a step back. 

“Excuse me?”

He makes a vague gesture towards the station, the woods behind. You follow his hand with your eyes and tilt your head to the right, confused.

“Putting your smell all over. Calling everyone to come here.” He then takes a long look, up and down your body, that makes you want to crawl back inside your skin. “Don’t look like the type to enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, offended, but don’t move from where you’re standing. He is smelling you, as well? That can’t mean… His expression is annoyed, like he’s had this conversation with you a hundred times and more. Your nose twitches. He doesn’t reply to you, choosing instead to put out the cigarette on the ground and walk back to his car. You’re left, speechless, looking at his back.

—

It’s your free day. You can do everything you want during your free day.

You go running, of course. Choose a little spot off the running track, a clearing with tall grass. You take a few bites, but you’re never really satisfied when you eat in this form. It’s only instinct that makes you do so. 

All of the sudden, the air changes. The needles on your back multiply, as do your look backs. At some point, you’re certain you’re being stared at. Your hind legs kick, the jump propelling you inside the trees, and you disappear among the foliage.

—

“You should use this.” 

A green container is dropped in front of you on the counter. It’s not something you sell in the shop. You look up to the blond man with a dubious face.

“To hide your scent.” He says nonchalantly. You scrunch your face and ignore the unasked gift. You get to the heart of it.

“What’s your name?”

“Simon,” he answers flatly, while his eyes shift to look at the blue plate on your chest. “That your real one?” He says pointing to it with a long finger.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“These,” you say, taking the container in your hand. It’s full of white, small pills, “work… for our kind?”

“Yeah. More for territory issues than anything else.”

“But you still smell.” You shake the bottle in front of him. From above the mask, one of his eyebrows shifts.

“Better than nothing.” His tone is ironic. Ugh, no one wants to be told they reek all the time. You pout, but pocket the pills. His eyebrow is still quirked.

“Just like that?” He says, surprised.

“Uh? You told me to take them.”

“You don’t know me.”

You roll your eyes. You can’t read him at all, but you suppose he’s made you a pet case of his, a new shifter who needs help in his turf. So why preach stranger danger now?

“You already saved me once.” You lower your eyes. “Does that mean there’s a lot of us here, in this city?” You try to keep your tone neutral, but you fear it sounds more hopeful than it ought to be.

He looks uncomfortable now. Like a mother who promised her son a new toy and can’t buy it for Christmas.

“I know a couple of people,” he scratches the back of his neck. “John Price, good man. Big.” He pauses. “I’ll give you my phone number. If anyone else but him pops up here, or at your house, you call me.”

That’s when Joe makes his entrance. His face tells you that he’s not thrilled you two are having this conversation. 

“Everything alright here?” He asks you as he spreads his hands on the counter, and you realize he’s worried Simon’s bothering you. His figure, small and round, pales against the solidity of the taller man’s body, but he holds his head high. And Simon, maybe now conscious of how he’s coming across, shrinks.

“Yes, don’t worry,” you smile shyly to Joe, happy he’s worried about you. But Simon is not necessarily bothering you. You enjoy having someone to talk to about that. Someone who is just like you.

—

He offers to take you home when your car won’t start one rainy night. You tell him you can wait for the tow truck beneath the canopy but he’s unremovable. You don’t question why he was waiting for you to finish your shift. In his car, you just keep your hands in between your thighs, the warmth of the heater thawing your toes. He fiddles with the radio, big fingers turning the dial, the slightest amount of light hair on them. His face is neutral, but you wouldn’t call it relaxed.

“You've been taking them? The suppressants,” he adds, while he turns for what seems the tenth time.

“Yes. Does it not seem so?” You ask, now self conscious.

He doesn’t answer your question. A bit put off by his lack of politeness, you cross your arms and look outside of the car window, limiting your indications to one word replies. He doesn’t seem to need them anyway. When he stops at your house, you put a hand on the door handle and look at him. Something is missing.

“... Do you want to come upstairs?” You ask, voice trembling less than you’d expect from yourself. Again, he doesn’t answer. He just exits the car, long limbs getting out the seat and into the drizzle. You scramble to get out as well. He feels even bigger at your shoulders as you guide him up the stairs. When you enter your apartment, you’re embarrassed by the state you left it in that morning. Simon doesn’t seem to mind, still looking around the space like it might reveal some great conspiracy. Then, he lifts his gaze at you, implicit question in his brown eyes. You look down, biting your lower lip in anxiety.

“This is all I could find on my budget,” you try to justify your living situation, like he’s owed an explanation. He shakes his head.

“It’s nice,” he says, maybe not completely genuinely. But you’re so surprised by a compliment coming from him you almost stutter.

“Please sit,” you say, gesturing to the small table. You make tea in your electric kettle, feeling his eyes behind you all the time. Uncomfortable with his staring and the silence, you try to make small talk, the way Joe has taught you makes customers feel at ease.

“Does it always rain so much here?” You ask, while bringing the mugs to the table. Simon grabs his by the main part instead of the handle, uncaring of the heat. Probably just to do something. He looks huge at your table, the size of the apartment not matching the size of his body.

“Yes. The whole region is rainy.”

“Alright.” You fiddle with the teabag in your cup by its string. Unprompted, you attempt to find the answer to something you’ve suspected for a while.

“Have you been watching me while I’m changed?” You ask, the words flowing out of your mouth like a river in full. He doesn’t answer at first, his whole figure completely still, and you think he’s going to start yelling at you. Maybe you’ve offended him greatly, and the way his kind goes about it, he’ll tear your throat apart. But you don’t even know what kind he is, really. Then, his lips part.

“Just keeping an eye on you,” he says, looking you in the eye, the warm light of the ceiling fan casting shadows on his face. His voice is earnest, and honest, and you want to ask a thousand questions but you think you might already know the answer to some. You tilt your head to the left.

“Worried I’ll commit a crime?” You joke, remembering the way he subdued the robber.

“Worried about others, more like.” He answers flatly, and a flame stokes in the center of your chest. 

“Come say hi next time,” you whisper, the blood in your cheeks scorching hot.

He really does scowl at that, as if he’s tasted something rotten.

“Don’t think that’s wise, pet.”

—

He digs a place for himself in your life and sits there quietly. Always in the vicinity.

The days he comes to the station are more than the ones he does not. He buys mundane stuff, necessities he could easily get when he gets groceries, and starts even getting his gas from you. Requests your service specifically. Joe only looks at you with knowing eyes nowadays, and you’re victim to an unstoppable rush of implicating jokes once you leave Simon.

“You’re the only client I’ve gotten the whole month for gas, you know,” you tell him while he sits in the car, the window lowered. His face is even harder to read with sunglasses on.

“Pity. I find myself well serviced,” he says, and your hackles rise at the friendly, even flirting tone of his. You smile to yourself as you pump the gas, tapping your nails on the black varnished trunk.

With the gas in his tank, he drives you around. Actually, he helps you buy a new table. He says the other one makes his back hurt, so you pick a taller version and he pays. He sticks to your side even when the majority of your time together is spent in silence, or with you recounting your shift at work. He points to you clearings nearby you can shift in more covertly, big places where hunting is always forbidden. The itch to know more about him is always at the back of your throat, but you never ask Simon anything that would stab in too deep.

You meet John Price. He’s been itching to see you, Simon says– and they’re ex coworkers, too, so Simon trusts him implicitly. The moment you see him, you think he must be a bear, his long moustache, the slope of his brow bone. He tells you as much himself, freely, after taking a big sip of his beer.

“You’re a deer, right lassie?” You nod demure at the question. “Only ruminant of the area. Can’t say the green spaces are ample, but,” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “it’s a quiet city thanks to us.” He shoves at Simon’s chest, the latter staying still. The shadow of a smile plays on Simon’s mouth.

It’s not like you don’t know there can be animosity between shifters. You remember there being scuffles back home too– but it’s just little old you here. You doubt anyone would even notice you. When you say as much, the look you receive from the two men is focused and sharp, and it tells you all you need to know. No more of that talk.

You start smelling the others in some parts of the city, and immediately draw back when it happens. When you tell Simon as much, that you’re being careful after his and John’s advice, he smiles a full smile, his canines sharply white, his hand coming to pat your head.

In this idyllic moment of your life, when things aren’t just fine but great– a small sense of community again, a stable good job, and a budding link–

Your heat comes.

It’s not your first. Back then, you had your options. Taking care of each other was the norm. But lately, as stressed as you’ve been, you’d forgotten that this, too, is part of your nature. And you didn’t prepare accurately– including having some relief the days before the actual heat comes. Before you pass out, you have the sense to call sick at work. After that your finger hovers on Simon’s name, but you abandon the idea. He can’t always come to help you.

Hazily, you think back on the pills Simon gave to you. You ran out some weeks ago, but didn’t think about asking for more. After all, you’d lived for long without, and he couldn’t even tell the difference himself, as shown by his silence on the matter. Maybe he grew too dulled to your smell. 

Maybe he knew that they were finished. Maybe he did it on purpose.

You cough. The slick between your legs doesn’t have time to cool down before a new fresh wave comes, and you curse your animal side as you writhe on the bed. Through the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, you hear your door opening. Panicking, your eyes cross to watch the entrance, the tall, dark figure making its way inside with familiarity.

“Simon,” you pant, “what are you doing here?” You ask, voice rough, when you recognize him. How did he even open the door? You try to stand on your elbows, but fall back over your face in the pillow. You hear his footsteps coming closer and closer to you. He sits on your bed, hand coming to pet your hair, and you muffle a groan, fabric between your teeth.

“Y-you need to leave. I’m not well–”

“Shh,” he just says, still petting your hair. When you raise your head again and turn to look at him, he’s looking at you curiously. You swallow your saliva and try to keep your eyes straight, but it’s growing incredibly harder.

“Why didn’t you call me? I had to ask around…” He says, voice quiet and reproaching. You lean your head into his palm, hands covering your face.

“Didn’t want to bother you…” you whisper, eyes peeking from behind your fingers. “Did you bring the pills?”

He doesn't answer your question. When you’re about to ask again, you feel his body move, his chest coming to press against your back. His arm stirs, makes contact with his head, which then moves. You hear an inhale, his big chest rumbling.

Is… Is he smelling you?

“Simon… I’m really unwell, but I’ll be alright, so you can-” Your voice trembles, but you get interrupted. The tone of his voice is harsh enough to make you cry.

“No. I’m staying here. I know how to handle this,” he says, decisively, but his eyes soften when he sees your scared expression.

“Hey. It’s alright. You know me, right? And I know you. This is just what happens to our kind. I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, hand holding your neck and face buried in your hair. 

And just like that, you surrender. 

He takes off your clothes calmly, with clear intent, lays them orderly on your chair when he’s done with each part. The moan that comes out of you when he takes off your pajama pants is almost vulgar. Before you turn your head in embarrassment, you see a flash of something else but determination in his eyes. An hunger, even.

“Come. All fours,” he orders, and you follow his words blindly. You’re in no state to oppose him truly, and anyway, this is what your body wants. And the mind is not far to follow. He guides you, rough hands on your waist and hips, and positions you the way he wants.

“Look at that,” he remarks, once he has the full view of your aroused cunt in his face. You mutter an offended remark in your elbow that turns into a yelp when he starts spreading your lips, examining you to his heart’s content. One of his fingers comes to brush at the edges of your hole, bringing some of the wetness lower, on your clit.

“Built for it,” he hisses, fiddling with it, your hips grinding against his finger with their own mind, chasing that limb numbing feeling. Once your moans are getting high enough for his judgment, he adds two fingers into your pussy, his reach far better than any you could have by yourself. You move in tandem, a wave of power that starts from him and crashes into you. He starts curling his fingers into you, his palm still grinding against your clit, that’s the moment you let go. You come with a muffled scream into the pillow, your back arched, your pussy trying desperately to milk his fingers. You fall prone, momentarily exhausted, and catch your breath for about ten seconds when you feel Simon’s arms encompassing your waist. 

“Up. C’mon now,” he says, and you let yourself be manhandled. His arm brushes against your stomach. Has… has his arm hair always been so long?

You hear rustling and movement behind you, but you’re still in the aftershocks of your orgasm that you just keep your eyes shut and enjoy the closeness with Simon. When your thigh comes into contact with something, though, your eyes open wide. You try to turn your head to look at his body, but he won’t let you, he just keeps your head firmly into the pillow. At least he shifts it a bit so that you can breathe with your mouth.

“Just enjoy this,” he says, a bit peeved, but with an undertone of shame. What could he possibly be ashamed of, when he’s helped you so much? 

“Thank you, Simon,” you let out breathlessly, and he groans, the sound reverberating through your whole body. The blunt head of his cock breaches inside, finds a clear way from your previous orgasm and the hormones. He starts fucking you with with a punishing rhythm, the snap of his abs against your ass resounding in the room, your slick rendering his shoves almost liquid. Whenever you try to shift a bit you’re hurriedly moved back against him, no chance of moving somewhere else. His mouth moves against your ear, muttering something intelligible, more groan than speech. More animal than human. The sounds, the smell of Simon, the warm air, it’s all getting to your head, filling it with foam. When you start moving back against him, a second climax descending upon you, his thrusts become more sloppy, and you feel his legs tensing, shifting in preparation.

“Take it all now,” he grunts out, and you feel a rush of heat by your entrance, and– and– 

With a snarl, long teeth bite into the meat of your shoulder, breaking skin. You moan in pain and pleasure both, the heading sensation going straight to your pussy, a trickle of blood running down your flushed breasts and on the mattress. You feel twitching and an unmistakable wet sensation inside you, and the feeling is so overwhelming you try to twitch away from his imposing body but find yourself stuck to him. Simon retracts his maw from your shoulder and licks the wound he caused with long, careful swipes, an apology of his own. Once he’s satisfied with his care, his tongue licks the salty residues of your tears on your cheeks, leaving a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers huskily, just as you pass out.

When you wake up again, to the warm and damp touch of a towel, you whimper in pain. The movement stops then, and you open your eyes to Simon pondering what to do next, his hands on his hips. You cough out a laugh at the sight in front of you. When he sees you are awake, Simon’s mouth quirks down in mock scorn, but you read the implicit laugh behind his lips. He bandages your wound and you fall asleep again, worn out by your vulnerable state.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a wolf?” You break the silence later, leaning on your good side while he spoons you from behind. His sharp nails brush against the skin of your stomach.

“You never asked.” He says, almost bored, but it’s a farce, and you both know it. You roll your eyes, grateful he can’t see you. There’s probably an ancient taboo regarding shifters of different species being together, but then again, you hold the very human belief that you can do what you want as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else.

After all, being in the middle between animals and humans means you always have two ways to approach things.

taglist: @rafaelacallinybbay

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 4

Ice cold water splashed on Danny's face, soaking his hair. Danny woke up blearily wondering when his roof had started leaking.

He opened his eyes hand almost gagged . He was met with the exact person he wanted to chew apart.

Jason was running across building at top speed. Danny's apartment was a wreck and he was nowhere to be found. Jason had only looked away for a few hours, who knew Danny would be targeted already.

Well there was the News that had displayed him the previous day.

"Wakey wakey hero"

Danny squinted as his vision became clear.

"A clown?"

"I saw your little show and decided to break out of Arkam sooner just for you. It's my turn to put on a show now"

Danny wanted to strangle him right then but there were people around. Well they were just henchmen, if he knocked them out then they would see anything.

More importantly he had a few ideas on how to handle the joker.

"Put on a show, how about I do to you what you have done to countless of my patients" Danny threatened glaring murderously.

"Patience, I'll kill you after I tune in out friends"

Danny rolled his eyes. Back in the cave Batman had received an alert that Joker had broken out of Arkham.

Apparently he had kidnapped a prestigious doctor too.

"Incoming video call" the bat computer alerted.

The screen went black for a second before a smiling joker appeared in front of the camera.

"Hello batsy"

"Joker" batman growled.

"My friend here-"

"Shut the duck up! We are not friends GOD!"

Batman was taken aback.

"I'm going to beat the everloving hell out of you!" Danny shouted.

"He's cranky, I'm going to kill him slowly, break his resolve-"

"NOT BEFORE I BREAK YOUR FACE!"

Joker looked seriously annoyed.

"Let's get started shall we"

Joker picked up a crowbar.

"Remember this batsy, this should be so much fun. I just love reunion's"

Joker smiled before turning away from the camera.

"Joker!" Batman shouted from the other end of the screen.

Joker raised the crowbar and brought it down crushingly hard into Danny leg.

Batman waited for the screaming, but it was silence.

"Oh my bad, ~ow that hurts so bad~" Danny mocked.

He had phased out of his bindings and was now standing off to the left of joker.

"What- how did you get over there?!"

Danny gave Joker a sadistic grin.

"I'm a doctor Joker, I don't kill, but I did promise someone that I would tear off your arms if given the chance" Danny said as he rolled up his sleeves.

Batman was frantically trying to find them before the good doctor did something he regretted.

"Get him!"

Danny smiled and took on the henchmen, knocking them out quickly.

"How in the hell?! Just how weak are those stupid-"

A punch to the face caught off Jokers words.

"Hey joker, buddy. It's time I break you, permanently"

"Wha-" screams of utter agony filled the room.

Jason had found the building joker was holding Danny. He hadn't started to worry until he heard screaming.

Jason ran as fast as he could. The sight he was met with was not what he was expecting. Joker was laying on the ground with his arms bent in ways they were not meant to bend.

"No,no wait, Im sorry for kidnapping you AAAAHHH"

There was a satisfying crunch sound followed by a pop. Danny turned his head sensing another presence.

"Oh hey!"

"Hey?"

Danny had his foot on Jokers back.

"I was just teaching him a lesson" Danny said with a shrug.

"But his arms are still attacked to his body, I thought you said you were gonna rip them off"

"Well I mean, I broke most of his fingers, hell probably need crutches to walk right after this anyway"

"MY LEGS ARE FINE" Joker shouted from the floor.

Danny shoved the crowbar through his leg.

More screams followed.

"Like I was saying, he's gonna need help walking, hey Hood?"

Jason tilted his head, "hm?"

"I'm not going to jail for this right, it's definitely self defense right"

"You'll be fine, I mean, you might wanna get out of here though. The bat daddy is on his way"

Danny nodded glumly.

"I want to make something clear" he said crouching down to the half conscious Joker.

"I'm not proud of what I did today, but I can't stand by and watch you kill or injury any more people. You, will never touch another person again or I will come back for you"

His tone was more menacing than he realized and the Joker was terrified.

"That's the dude that killed me"

Danny whipped his head around.

"What?! He's the one who beat you death with a crowbar?!"

Jason flinched.

"Sorry, I know that not a comfortable subject I shouldn't have brought it up"

Jason shook his head.

"It's not you who should feel sorry right now"

Danny grabbed the crowbar and Jason had to take it from him.

"Your not killing anybody today Doctor. You still have patients waiting on you"

Danny sighed.

"Alright, let's tie him up and get out of here then"

"What?" Jason asked. He wasn't sure why Danny was thinking about him.

"Well I'm not gonna leave you here to face off with Batman"

"Too late, both of you better start talking. Now" an intimidating voice ordered.

Danny half near jumped out of his skin.

"Um hey bat-babe. See, my friend here and I were just passing through and we'll be on our way now. Bye"

Jason grabbed Danny and shit his grapple hook at the nearest window.

Danny was pulled into the air, gliding as Jason swung. They landed on the nearby road and didn't stop running.

They crashed at Jason's place instead of Danny's.

Danny was out of breath by the time they reached Jason's apartment door. Once he was inside he fell the the ground laughing.

"Hahahah, I can't believe you did that!" Danny cried out as he tried to breathe.

Jason took off his helmet.

"Really? Well best believe it because Batman is a hard nut for sure. Your gonna be on his wanted list now"

Danny's laughter was cut short. Jason turned and saw tears.

"Danny? What's wrong?"

"I can't go to jail Jason! I'm too young, I have my career and I'll be targeted for my good looks!" Danny sobbed.

"Your not going to jail" Jason said sitting down in front of his couch next to Danny.

"And if the bat come for you I'll wrestle him alright"

"Mhm"

Jason stared in front of him.

"I don't think Joker will be able to hurt anyone for a long time, you did something amazing Danny. Your amazing you know that"

Silence...

"Danny?" Jason peeked around Danny's shoulder to see Danny's head slumped down.

He smiled to himself, today had been a hectic day especially for a civilian.

Danny twitched in his sleep. Jason picked Danny up carefully and laid him on his bed before turning him in.

Danny woke up the next morning on the floor not sure where he was.

Flashbacks of yesterday popped into his head without permission. Joker, Batman and...Jason!

Danny sat up and saw the mess he had made of Jason's bed. Everything was pulled off the bed, nothing survived Danny's late night wrath. Danny worked quickly remaking the bed with help from his skills earned during his intern days.

He only considered it finished once there were no wrinkles too be found.

"Hah, I need some water" he muttered before making his way around the unfamiliar space. On his way to the kitchen he spotted Jason on the couch.  His arm was thrown above his head and the couch looked entirely too small for the man.

"Pfft"

Jason opened one eye.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Noo, I just noticed how manly you look today"

Jason sat up.

"Yea alright wise guy"

Danny was about to make a wise crack when his eye caught sight of the clock.

"OH MY GOD!" he shouted horrified.

"I don't report to work yesterday!"

Jason grabbed the panicking man.

"It's ok, I called the hospital and explained that you were in danger. They took a little to convince but I managed to get you the day off"

Danny almost fainted.

"I can't take a day off! What about the patients??"

Jason sat Dany down and kneeled before him.

"Do you not have faith in your fellow doctors?"

"I-I do"

Jason nodded.

"Danny, all you've been doing is looking out for your patients. In order to care for them you also need to be healthy"

"I'm healthy, look at me, I have muscles" Danny said jabbing his arm as if to prove it.

"I see that" Jason said unimpressed.

"But I'm talking about mental health. Take a day and just let someone else take care of you"

Danny scoffed.

"Yea right, like who?"

Jason smirked.

[huenation]

who you are / csb

word count: 3,180

genre: soft angst, fluff, slice-of-life

warnings: not much happens in this and it’s almost a vent piece so you probably wont love this — mentions of nervousness, family issues, mc has a big family

synopsis: when soobin finally meets your family, he learns something about you (and he can’t help but love you more)

soundtrack: lovelovelove by baek yerin and can’t you see (acoustic) by matthew and the atlas

soobin is never home on weekdays in the mornings because of work, happily assisting the newbies at his barista job, since he’s been working there for three years now. he didn’t remember what nine am’s in his home looked like until now. he paces his hallway, awaiting your text message to let him know you’re outside to pick him up. it’s the big day after all, the one where he meets your family.

it’s been roughly eleven months since you both started dating and you’d just been introduced to soobin’s family a week earlier from now at a brunch. his sister and brother had finally decided to both visit his family home at the same time. despite the great harrowing pill of trepidation taken at meeting your boyfriend’s family, they had been so graciously welcoming and accepting of you. their questions were mere softballs, compliments and genuine interest in you that didn’t at all feel too much. you and soobin are familiar with the weight of stares, certain tones, and body language.

you had understood that floods of words could be conveyed through touch. being held by his family, a gripping hug, tearful thank you’s told you everything. it just meant a lot of love. soobin’s parents had embraced you so tightly that night, his mom more than kind and thankful when she held your hands and told you how special her son was to her, how dear you were to him and for that, she thought of you that much as well.

it all made sense that night on the drive home — it made you comfortable, knowing and seeing how soobin was raised well and so loved. he’s his own guy, but he is definitely a fragment of all those around him: infinitely precious.

so, when time allowed for him to meet your own family, despite the fear of jumping off your comfortable cloud into oblivion, you and he felt it was time. sure, he was beyond nervous when you both agreed to today as he’s currently anxious out of his mind, but you are, too. eye twitches, shivers, and that swirling pit in your stomach are all little footprints of this feeling.

really, as long as you have each other, just the knowing of it, that’s what matters.

he feels his phone vibrate and your contact name and picture pop up from a message that lets him know you’re outside. a small grin sprouts between his dimples at the sight of that photo. in it, you’re wearing his hoodie with the hood over your head so only your mouth is showing, a big smile worn. of course he had to set his contact photo as that. your contact name has your name with a single white heart.

just by seeing it, thinking of you… this warm feeling washes over his freezing shivers that wrack him from anxiety. you melt it away. you make a typo in your message as he’s already exiting his place, meeting you, stepping in your car, greeting you with a gentle but wide hug, kissing your cheek and thumbing the ends of your pretty eyelashes.

so, even if he’s nervous, you were able to do it, and it is about time, after all. he can do it. he holds your hand the entire way.

amazingly enough, the drive draws his anxieties away, your hand in his, and far too distracted by your chatter and the way his legs must bend to fit in your passenger seat. you chat about work or school, or something an online player from his game did that was funny, even jamming out to your shared playlist. but then when you start slowing down, pulling into a street, hitting stop signs, it gets quiet.

“we’re acting like we’re going to the police station…” you point out, sharing a little laugh with your boyfriend, whose eyes are bouncing around as they always do. there’s lots of cars down this specific street. it’s why you have to park just a little ways to your destination, beside the curb, soobin gaping at the environment and litter of cars that definitely signifies there’s a lot of people inside. the growing clamminess in his palms only intensifies.

“soobin, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” your small flame of reassurance has him turning back to you, a crease between his eyebrows and a pout on his cute lips. you have this effect; the world can start spinning far beyond a speed he can keep up with, but there you go, slowing things down. “what?” his question comes out a lot louder than intended, making you both laugh. “i wanna do this… i’m just nervous is all. that’s normal. i’ll be fine, babe.” you don’t seem satisfied with that, nodding and trying to smile it off. he sighs, deflating into the seat.

“i just… i don’t want to leave a bad impression on your family.” he mumbles, ears growing crimson. you coo and he scoffs a little, fake annoyance at your touched reaction. soobin’s legs are folded, knees pulled up high from his great height, but they also surround a gorgeous bouquet of flowers that sit in a timeless vase he bought. those familiar, luscious gardens are so full, you can even catch a glimpse of their edges and you’re down the street from them. all in all, it’s a very sweet gesture — you paid witness to him tracking down multiple florists and online shopping for a pretty vase.

“that’s how i felt about your family! and look what happened? i’m still alive and it’ll be the same for you!” you wrap your hands around his bicep in an effort to warm him up. your cheek presses on his shoulder. his head angles down and your eyes lock. oh he’s a very weak man when it comes to you.

“that’s not fair!”

“what is?”

he exhales, eyes dropping to your steering wheel.

“no one could hate you. you’re basically perfect!”

and if you’d been an anime character, your nose would’ve for sure bled. it’s silly how he thinks this way of you when he’s got it flipped. he doesn’t even know how special and loved and wonderful he is. to you, at the very least.

after giving soobin a few more moments to prepare, you both unload your car once he feels ready to enter.

he watches with rapture at the way you look around at what he is seeing for the first time. it’s different the way you do it. you look at things with familiarity and this far away look that can’t decide itself between nostalgia or simple history. soobin’s heart thumps something harder because he’s about to see who you came from and how you came to be.

the door opens once you knock and there’s a few kids lingering in the hallway, waving at you, staring a little too long at soobin. you introduce them as your younger cousins, and all hell breaks loose once you tell them it’s your boyfriend. soobin’s eyes grow so big at their loud excited voices, all asking questions about his height, if he loves you, if he has a lot of money, et cetera — all silly questions that feel like practice runs for when it comes to the adults. he allows himself to be shy, to stutter and make mistakes, expecting harsh reactions for doing so but your girl cousins simply coo and call him cute. the boys ask if he plays any games and right when an interesting conversation is about to start, you hear your mom’s voice before she makes her way over to you, grinning ear to ear.

looking down at others physically-wise is not new to him. he’s just been tall since he could remember, shy, too, might he add, so standing out isn’t a new concept. however, now as he meets your mom and slowly the rest of your immediate family bleed into the living room, he feels so exposed and naked, watching from above, like he can’t control his real body. he finds himself particularly scared. what grounds him is the way you hold his hand or link arms with him, turning your head all the way to face him, smiling at him like you’re the only two here. the littlest contact does wonders for him.

all good?

your eyes deliver this message in the shadows. his dimples flex.

all good.

for the first hour or so, it’s just introductions and endless flow of compliments. all your relatives call him cute, handsome, charming, and oh so very tall. he hides his blushes as best he can despite towering over you. everyone’s having dinner by the time you and he arrive, so you just assume your plates and eat at your own little table, talking and fighting the nervous sweats. soobin finds that the new foods he’s trying seem to distract him with how good they taste.

then, it gets a little… soobin doesn’t know how to put it. nor did he think it was his place to have an opinion. well, at least at first. one by one, some cousins and relatives come by to your table to get to know more about soobin. he gets flustered easily, so it was expected that he wouldn’t be able to handle everything perfectly. but, he did, not that he had a choice. you would be speaking for him, but they would cut you off, demanding he answer instead. you’d seemed flustered, apologizing, squeezing his palm and looking at him expectantly.

it became more than that.

soobin might not know the ins and outs of girl talk and well, the inner workings of your family, but he senses the backhandedness of the constant surprise your family members show at seeing you together. they choose their words incisively. his heart aches for you when they do so. your mom even jovially points out your flaws to contrast his strong points he’s only revealed to answer their question.

you just fight it off with an embarrassed grin, gripping onto soobin’s big hand from under the table.

there’s no place to try to even talk about what’s going on. not without any prying eyes following you or him. he has no ill feelings — well, maybe a little — towards your family, but he doesn’t understand why it is the way it is.

it’s getting awfully late, the party definitely running on momentum to carry on past the dead hours of the night, and you know it’s more than ready to begin bidding goodbyes. you rise from your chair, sparing soobin a tight smile, excusing yourself from your parents first before making any moves with soobin.

leaving seems a lost cause when you keep getting pulled aside by a relative or two. right when each conversation is done, your mom is calling you over to the kitchen to take leftovers. as you should.

it’s when he’s briefly alone, a few family members turn to him, simple questions on their tongue. his heart beats so fast and irregularly, but he somehow finds the strength to ask a few questions.

all he gets is one in, and somehow it is enough to answer a lot.

what were you like as a child?

he is met with inconsistencies or things that seem to be the opposite of you. they fumble softball questions, so obviously unaware of your hobbies, your favorite color, your passions, drawing assumptions of your character on the way they treated you as a kid. soobin smiles and nods, internally confirming his previous thoughts, though it makes his stomach ache at the thought of it.

sunshine comes around the corner in the form of you, speeding over with a large tupperware of food, nearly tripping with the bustling kids running around without care. your smile is stretched so big and he knows more than anything that it’s because you can’t wait to get out of there.

instead of excusing yourself individually from everyone with soobin like you’re supposed to, you both just get up and head to the door, waving and giving one big verbal goodbye. soobin holds the tupperware for you in one hand and he has your purse hanging over his shoulder, bowing his head a few times and smiling while you wave and keep saying bye until the door shuts behind you. you deflate with relief once it does that.

the walk to the car is quiet. both of your stomachs are turning with anxiety because you kinda do have to talk about it.

soobin opens the passenger car door, setting the bins down on the seat before closing, turning to face you as you lean on the car next to him. he moves away so, you can lean on where he was standing.

he can’t really let it go. they don’t even know you. maybe you gave them the opportunity to, while you grew up, maybe you didn’t. but, you just now are old enough, their lack of empathy and familiarity a result of their own carelessness. you were just a kid.

soobin turns on his heel to face you. his shoe twists the gravel beneath, dull against the incoherent beats of crickets chirping and cicadas buzzing. the streetlight above attracts a few fluttering moths, dim in its function, enough for fireflies to float around in the air. the world moves around you both, never pausing for either of you to try and catch your breath. literally. it spins on its axis at 1,000 miles per hour.

it is pretty baffling when he thinks about it. the way you do so much for him, calming down his faint heart, and his chest clenches at the annoyed urge that he can’t have the same or a better reciprocation of providing shelter, happiness, and love.

your eyes are still stuck on your dress shoes, head hanging low and back slumped against the passenger door of the car.

“sorry, you had to see all that.” you finally manage, moving upwards to look at him with a humorous smile.

the world moves fast regardless of what happens. soobin doesn’t know why he gets so hung up on the mountains he can’t move.

he blinks down at you, watching the way your curtain of eyelashes reflect a shine from the lamp post near you, fingers twiddling in real time at the speed of your thoughts. you are everything to soobin. he loves you and declares himself the happiest person ever being with you. isn’t that enough?

there’s a lot he knows he can’t do. but one thing is sure, he loves you endlessly.

“don’t be sorry, babe,” he takes another step closer to you, smile widening and at that, your mouth follows his expression. like magic, lighting a flame in his heart and tummy, your hands reach up towards his, and without sparing another moment, he takes them in his hands. you intertwine your fingers, moving your wrists a little, hands playing around.

there’s a part of him, wide and conquering, that has him unsure of what to say, no room to figure out the best thing to open up with or explain what unfolded. you yourself look overwhelmed with this very burden. even if your smiles say otherwise.

he makes a little noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a hum before sealing the proximity. soobin slides next to you against the car and gently rounds his arms over you, pulling you in for a hug that knows no end to comfort. he curls his hand in your hair. his fingers stroke softly through the area closest to your temple and your own hand fists into his clothes. a kiss is pressed to your crown and your eyes sting.

the crickets chirp so loudly around you. the bass of the muffled music booms from the inside, but it doesn’t reach your ears. he kisses again this time with an audible pucker, making you snicker into his bicep. your hand shifts up to drift over it. you wrap up in each other like two snakes on a caduceus.

soobin is so thankful you let him in to your little world, even if it meant you nicked yourself while opening the door to your background. it adds up as to why you’re so resilient and strong, characteristics he could only dream of being able to call himself. he thanks you for allowing him the honor to knowing you, understanding you, and loving you. the people you consider family don’t know you one bit, but he feels lucky because you let him know you. and you are so beautiful. he has to blink aggressively so as to will the stinging tears away.

“do you think your parents liked me?” he murmurs and you snort, angling your head to now face up at him.

“soob,” your tone is in warning, but he knows you’re joking. “you know they loved you.” with that answer, you reach up and stretch to peck the corner of his lips.

“and your family, too?”

“especially my family.” you chuckle, feeling the fabric of his sleeve. soobin holds back a sigh. guilt and a sort of odd tension bubbles in his gut.

“thank you for letting me meet them,” he mumbles against your hair. you hum out a response, but it mainly comes out as an acknowledgment. “now, i know we have tupperwares of food, but what if…?” you can hear his smile.

“what if we go get mcdonald’s and watch a show while we snuggle?” at the last word, soobin brings you closer in his chest, laughing at your muffled yelp and own laughter.

you angle your head to peck a kiss to his wrist, looking up at him and he is already gazing down at you, eyes full of love.

your heart races just a bit at the excitement but also because you know you are due to talk about how you felt during the dinner. the drive home is going to be filled with your favorite songs, you and your boyfriend singing along to the lyrics while the other one talks or comments on tonight. soobin drives this time, ordering and picking up the food, your order memorized. you feed him some ice cream while practically downing your own. once the show is on, food is settled, you and him are wrapped up in blankets. you bring it up on your own accord, talking about how your family made you feel and how you already would rather spend heaps of more time with soobin’s than your own. soobin will stay quiet for a bit, hand rubbing your back in circles until he tears up, making you tear up, leaving you two to have quite a heart to heart. the forecast has already played out, but it doesn’t matter; none of it does since you have soobin and he makes you so happy. so, you pull away, giving him a big smile, which makes him light up like a star, and say,

“i’d want nothing more.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

ending note: if you have any ideas or requests that have actual plots and want to spare me one and do me a favor, please hit me up T_T i feel like i give you guys nothing and i’m so sorry,,, if you made it to the end, thank you 🙏

[edutainer2022]

I keep amusing myself with the idea IR, the Tracies and their typical Tuesday shenanigans probably land A LOT on the (quite exasperated) Counterterrorism and/or Special Ops Division plate. A wider context can be found in PERSON OF INTEREST and a reference to that one background headcanon could be traced to the UNREQUITED-verse.

PERSON OF INTEREST TOO

"Whoa! You okay down there?!"

"Caramba! Yes! Just act normal! Pretend you're giving me directions."

That came out as a hissed whisper from behind the bench in Central Park, where the older of two women ducked to pretend retying the running shoes. The hastily pulled up hood added to the camouflage.

"Tell me when he passes by!"

"Alright."

The girl on the bench shrugged and tracked a tall figure in jogging gear, that just turned a corner at a distance. The man was balancing a cardboard stack of four take away coffee cups and a paper bag of baked goods from a world renowned place in Manhattan and still maintaining a running pace without a tilt in balance. When he was safely out of earshot, her counterpart unfolded a lithe form from behind the bench and watched the man disappear over another bend of the path.

"You should have told me he was in town already! I wouldn't have showed up myself for the briefing!"

"The World Expo starts only Saturday. I didn't think it was relevant."

"It IS! Scott Tracy is a stickler for routine. That's his Route 2 for running - the longer one. It's good for clearing the head and ditching the security detail. Which is just sweet, given there's a bomb threat!"

Her younger colleague followed the hushed, yet agitated muttering with increasing confusion.

"I thought the threat referenced the Expo!"

"It DID! And now we have two more high profile potential targets to cover. Coffee and bagles means brothers. Multiple."

"He had four cups."

"Two're for the Artist. But you're right - the Blond Fish doesn't drink caffeine. So there could be three more potential targets to cover. We'll need more feet on the ground!"

"There's the fifth brother!"

"Yeah, but the kid will likely be with the household security detail at all times. Unlike Scott! I can't leave that to chance! And we can't tip them off - we don't know where the leak leads, yet."

"You don't trust their head of security?"

"I generally don't trust international terrorists and their immediate family members. Not with Scott's life, anyway. How're things on your end, in Tracy Industries?"

"So far - nothing."

The girl on the bench adjusted the glasses and rubbed her hands against the morning chill.

"I'm toiling in the trenches with the interns. Which is fun, but is getting old. Everyone's hyped for the Expo and for sighting the CEO Dreamboat. There's no trace of suspicious activity or breaches in data. Well, except for Eos."

"Does the bot snoop around often?"

"She's an AI and no. She pops in here and there, but mostly to check in on the CEO or to tweak his schedule. She's not a part of any ongoing workflows at TI, from what I can see."

"Good! At least they're smart enough not to expose themselves to integrity lawsuits from competitors. Keep an eye on her, though!"

"You don't trust Eos either?"

"We have no record of her between escaping containment on our servers and resurfacing at Five. In the meantime she attempted an act of mass terrorism twice. Nearly successfully. We don't know what code may still be dormant. Neither do the Tracies."

"You think the Hood could have trained her neural network and set her loose?"

"The Hood. Or worse. The crowd whose chatter on the planned bombing we picked up make the Hood look like a cartoon villian!"

"I'll update the tracking protocol! Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

That earned her a quizzical arch of a dark brow.

"Permission granted."

"Why didn't you and Scott Tracy... I mean... you obviously care and worry about him! And you were engaged... it's in his GDF file, sorry! I looked the classified portion up before this undercover gig! What I mean to ask, with all due respect... He's Thunderbird One! How does one even unlove Scott Tracy?! Apologies if I overstepped..."

"You don't."

"Pardon?"

"The answer is "You don't. Ever unlove Scott Tracy." But sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away and do your job. We've got lives to protect, Dr. Simpson. Dismissed!"

The taller woman adjusted a well-worn oversized Yale hoodie and resumed jogging, leaving the silence hanging viscous in the morning mist.

[joywindsong]

King Cronart

"When I was a boy Orcs walked the streets of my kingdom. Not as invaders. Not as citizens. Hard to even say as enemies. We always heard the stories of an orc breaking down your door to slaughter you and your family, but now they were walking by our door with no concern for us. Taking passage through the mountains of Alterac, offered by our traitorous king. They wanted to lay waste to the human kingdoms. Who was to say they would not turn their blades and hammers towards the civilians and do what they did to Stormwind? If that happened the royals and nobles would be ready and able to retreat and live. Though that is what happened, just not at the hands of the Horde." A plate broken in the night awakens Vontez Cronart. The bear of a man sits up in his bed calmly and turns to put his feet on the ground. He is wearing thin trousers that cover the length of his legs and not much else. Reaching to his nightstand for his cloak that he uses to cover his wide chest and back. The man is covered in body hair and has a bushy beard that comes down from his rugged face. Receding and thinning at his hairline shows his age.

The man sighs and walks to the door of his bedroom to pop it open. The door opens to reveal the small living space and kitchen being lit by the moonlight from the open front door. Vontez steps into the kitchen to find the pieces of the plate broken on the floor. "Alright... I know you're here. You can leave or I can acknowledge that I gave you the opportunity for mercy." Vontez says under his breath trying not to wake up all the way.

SWIPE! A dagger slides across the back of Vontez's hamstring. Immediately Vontez pivots and grabs the Syndicate assassin by the throat and slams him down on the ground. The wiry pale assassin is no match for Vontez physically as the hulking man puts his weight on top of him. Vontez removes the orange mask from the assassin's face. His cheeks are sunken in but he looks like a relatively young man with strands of blonde hair poking out of the front of his hood.

"You tore my trousers you bastard!" Vontez growls through the sting on the back of his leg.

"You're on Syndicate land... you have to be removed one way or another!" "I'm trying to sleep." Vontez puts a knee on the man's chest and kneels with the other leg. He takes the assassin's arm with the dagger and bends it over his leg. "What are you doing! No, please!" The Syndicate member pleads. "I gave you the chance for mercy." CRRACK!

"GYAH! AGH!" The Syndicate member yells out as Vontez effortlessly snaps the elbow and the dagger falls to the floor. "YOU MONSTER! WHO ARE YOU!?" "I might as well be the king of this mountain. Now go back to your band of thugs and make sure they know who did this to you." Vontez picks up the intruder easily and tosses him out the open door before he slams it shut. He runs his hand along the back of his leg. The attack tore his pants but barely broke the skin on his leg. "Now it's cold in here..." He looks at the floor to see the assassin's dagger and broken plate. "I'll deal with that in the morning... and I guess reinforce the door." ~

The next day Vontez spent his morning reinforcing the broken down house in the mountains.

Over the years he had been building the home on the outskirts of the ruins of Alterac between the walls of the city and Strahnbrad. Vontez always saw Alterac as his home. No matter how overrun it was with enemies or how far he would venture into the world.

"Click-thunk" The towering man tinkered with the lock on the door. It had been broken beyond repair by the intruder the night before. The old rusted lock stripped by the thieves' tools. He would have to go scavenge for a new one.

The Paladin would put his plate armor over the chainmail that he would wear casually throughout his days. His cloak covered his head and helped protect him from the cold of the mountains. Throwing a shield on his back and sheathing his sword he ventured into the ruins of the city.

Heavy feet crunched the snow and soil beneath the boots of the Paladin as he walked through the broken gates of the city. Scanning the field of ruins for his intended goal. Snow was falling to limit how far Vontez could see but he couldn't help but notice commotion off in the distance. WOOSH! A large wild cat sprinted past Vontez as the commotion came his way. "Come back! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HEAL ME YOU ELF BASTARD!" A human man stumbles out from the fog of snow about thirty yards from the Paladin. His chainmail armor is broken and hanging off his torso and blood is running down his forehead. His eyes meet Vontez. "HELP!" Before anything can be done a large figure appears behind the adventurer by the head and neck. "NO! NO! NYAHGGHHH!!!" The ogre rips the poor man's head from his jaw and lets the body drop at his feet to stain the snow red. The ogre steps over the body and towards the Paladin. "Puny humans. Stay off our mountain!" The ogre charges towards Vontez. SLICE! Thud! With a single movement Vontez draws his sword and lobs half the ogre's arm off. "GRR! YOU PUNY HUMAN TAKE ARM! DIE!" Vontez rolls out of the way before the ogre drops a crushing blow to the ground where he stood. "Not very kind of you to rip a man's head off. An arm for a head is hardly even a fair exchange." Vontez drew his shield and took his battle stance. "Back down now and I won't have to end your life." "HAHAHA! You puny humans always talk until I squash you!" The ogre revs back again but gets stunned by a flash of light.

The metal shield bounces of the skull of the ogre followed by a burst of fiery judgement, then finally the sword of Vontez pierces the sternum of the ogre. The sword is removed and blood spills onto the snow before the large corpse falls back and crashes to the ground.

Vontez walks past the body to inspect the door on the ruined building in distance. "This will do." Vontez pulls the door from the rotting frame and casually places it over his shoulder before walking back out the gates to his home.

As Vontez approaches his house he sees a Draenei woman outside. She sees and approaches him.

Her skin a light blue and hair white slicked back behind her horns. Wearing white robes with plate armor on her arms and legs and a hammer strapped to her back. "I assume that you are Vontez Cronart? Paladin of the Argent Dawn?" She questions him. He walks past ignoring her to prop the door up against the exterior of the house. "Who's asking?" He asks without turning to look at her.

"The Argent Crusade is requesting your presence at the Sanctum of Light. We need all the champions we can get." The Draenei instructs as he inspects the door. "Don't you have plenty of soldiers at your beck and call? I have things to do." Vontez dismisses. "Ah yes. Plenty to do out here I see." She teases to no response. After a moment of silence she gets to the point. "The Legion is threatening the wellbeing of Azeroth. We need everyone we can get... Tirion has fallen." Vontez stops what he's doing and turns to the fellow Paladin with a look of confusion. "What?..."

"Tirion Fordring was defeated by the demons. As well as the King of Stormwind. Even the Warchief of the Horde. You may want to sit out here in your mountain but I'm sure your oath will not allow you to."

[aveegrex]

MECHANIC CHOSO

I want choso so bad in my life it's unbearable please god

genre: smut pairing: choso x f!reader word count: 0,5k tw: oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), hints on vaginal sex, slight voyerism, fingering (f!receiving)

mechanic!choso who runs a little car shop with his brothers, always wearing the same dirty wife-beater unintentionally showing off his rippling muscles with a sheen of smeared machine oil

mechanic!choso who pins a cigarette behind his ear and shyly asks for your lighter as he sees you smoking outside, while yuji works your car 

mechanic!choso who always gives you a discount when you bring your business to him wearing the most inappropriate skirts known to clothing world

mechanic!choso who can’t for the love of god hold himself from sparing a glance at your panty-clad pussy as you bend over your car’s hood to show him what you think is wrong

mechanic!choso who blushes when you touch his bicep, asking him something about your car, and pops a boner when his sight lands on your pretty tits squeezed together by an irredeemably small tank top  

mechanic!choso who sometimes can’t help himself but leave a small thing about your car unattained so you’d return soon

mechanic!choso who once tells you to pick up your car after working hours to ensure his brothers are away for the night

mechanic!choso who musters up all his courage to ask you out that night, but stutters like a pre-teen boy when you bat your eyelashes at him, your hand on his hip, asking if he would consider taking alternative forms of payment from you

mechanic!choso whose brain goes hundred miles an hour when instead of elaborating on your offer verbally you chose to drop to your knees in front of him to get your point across orally

mechanic!choso who just nods feverishly when you ask him if that’s alright and prays that he doesn’t combust then and there, as your pretty glossed up lips wrap around his tip

mechanic!choso who looks down at you sucking him off, making the lewdest noises with your mouth, and tries to ground himself by grabbing your hair

mechanic!choso who goes nuts when you release him with a loud pop and ask him to fuck your throat with the most innocent look on your face

mechanic!choso who cums deep down your throat, your hair in his iron-grip, your pussy stuffed with your fingers

mechanic!choso who apologizes profusely for going too hard on you, mumbling that he never felt that good, only to have his words stuck in his throat as you hop on some random car hood behind you, spreading your legs to show him you didn’t even bother wearing panties

mechanic!choso who drops to his knees in front of you, stuffing his face with your pussy and making you cry with his tongue

mechanic!choso who then drives your fixed car over to your house the next day to spend his evening between your thighs, thanking all the deities for sending such a gift his way

mechanic!choso who gets so pussy drunk with you he has to take a few days off make sure you can’t walk

mechanic!choso. yeah, he’s the guy

reblogs are welcome, MDNI, btw this post is me manifesting

© 2022 AVEEGREX, all rights reserved. reposting and copying my works without my consent is forbidden.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

MOTHER’S MILK | MARVIN•T (the boys)

—

“For Forgetting” (Mother’s Milk x Fem!Reader)

| You’ve been separated for months and yet he still comes back to you.

| SFW, getting back together, -stripper!reader

| 1k+ words

While walking to the pole after you’re introduced you let your eyes rome over the crowd. Thursday crowds were always a mixed bag, but tonight the turnout was scarce. Good news for the lazy and disgruntled part of you, but not amazing for your pocket. If this was your regular shift you’d be sucking your teeth right now, but as it was you were working over-time, and any cash you made today would be extra.

You reach the pole and swing around it simply. You said you were feeling lazy today, and you kind of meant it. You swing your body again and then jump up on the pole. The routine you pull out is simple enough that you can actively watch the crowd for most of it while still keeping their attention.

In spite of your reservations about today specifically, you really did enjoy being up on the stage and getting to show off your body to men with big mouths who let you know when you were pleasing them.

It was fun knowing they were breaking their necks for you without even getting to touch a single inch of your melanated skin.

- - -

It’s around your fourth set that things begin to switch up. A man in a hoodie walks in, easy gait, seems to have a simple enough interaction with the barkeep when he orders a drink, and flags down a floor manager right after taking a seat at the back corner.

He’s managed to catch your attention mostly because he’s a harsh shift from the shifty eyed white business men that are scared their wives will somehow pop out of the floorboards at any second. But how long he spent by the door was also a pretty good eye catcher, the man walked in and out of that shit three times before finally coming all the way in, though he was otherwise cool after that.

You do an upside down move on the pole, arms shaking with the exertion as your breath huffs past your lips, but delighting somewhat at the pinpricks of new dollars raining down on your skin as you go spreadeagle. He’s talking to the manager, Thomás, for a while before you see the man glance up at you. It’s not until the other follows Thomás’s gaze that you make out he’s black himself.

Hmm.

The back of your mind sizzles with the prospect of getting called in for a private session as Thomás inevitably starts pointing out the other free dancers but the man continues looking at you.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so slow after all.

You incrementally make your way down the pole, doing a Cupid and then bending yourself into a cross leg release until you can get your hands on the ground and slip yourself into the cool down part of your routine.

The floor routine you finish with is simple and met with even more pinpricks as you get more intimate with the customers. Regardless of how fleeting the intimacy.

There’s claps as the DJ announces your set is up and introduces the next dancer but you barely pay attention to any of it as you gather your gains and track Thomás as he follows you backstage.

Seems the odds of you being mystery guys’ pick were pretty high.

You were living it up as Thomás talked to you and as you were led to a private room up until you really weren’t.

Oh, absolutely not.

“Marvin?”

He takes his hood down and the look on his face is too reminiscent of a kicked puppy for the emotions clambering for attention to get any concrete hold of you.

“Yeah.” He waves. “Hey, Y/n.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me any more,” you raise your eyebrow at him as your lips purse.

“It’s healthy to switch things up.”

“Don’t patronize me, Marvin. Why’d you ask for me?”

He shrugs.

“Just to check in.”

You squint at him before scoffing.

“Last time you spoke to me you said we had to stop seeing each other. I’m pretty sure ‘check-ins' count as seeing each other.”

“You know it wasn’t safe.”

“Oh and it’s safe now?” You wave your hands around. “You not still running around on your Supe Scavenger Hunt?”

“Not no more. I’m tryna turn over a new leaf in my life. Supe free.”

You squint at him.

“And this has to do with me, how..?”

“I missed you.”

You stare at him. He missed you. A sigh leaves your mouth. Of course the motherfucker would break your heart and then pull this shit less than two months later.

Marvin drops his head into his hands and then peaks up at you from between his fingers.

“What’s that look for? What’s going on in your head right now?”

You shake your head, “A lot of shit, Marvin.”

The upturn of his lips is jagged. “Tell me something, then.”

“Why now,” a frown pulls at your face. “Why me? You got a perfectly good nuclear family waiting for you. If you’re fixing things, why not go back to them?”

“Why do you always have to be like this?”

You shrug before making a gesture for him to get on with it. He rises up and leans back into the seat to meet your eyes fully.

“I’m not going back because we’re done, Y/n. Monique ended things with me and after everything I’m lucky she even let me back into Janine’s life.”

His hands clasp together in a way that looks painful as his sigh shutters out of him.

“I’m not trying to get back with my ex wife. She’ll always take up a place in my heart but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you.”

As you’re looking at him there’s a part of you kicking and screaming to snatch up this chance that you’ve been entertaining for weeks, but actually having that chance go from fantasy to reality has you rethinking your eagerness.

“And I’m not trying to diminish that, but we just had some really good sex and that’s it-”

“You gon just down play us like that?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Exactly like that. We had a good run while it lasted and yeah okay maybe it wasn’t just great sex and being with you felt…amazing…”

You sigh, avoiding his eyes as you work through your reasoning.

You shrug weakly and force the rest of your words out, “But maybe let’s just stop while we’re ahead.”

“Y/n, baby, you make me happy! I don’t want to stop.” He watches the way you glance up at him, words lodged halfway up your throat, and reaches out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you tell me to leave and I’m gone for good but don’t do this because of what you think I want when I’m telling you it’s you. And not just because of the sex.”

He gestures around the room at the sour look you give him.

“I might’ve bought this room but that don’t mean we have to have sex, I want our relationship to be more than that.”

Your teeth grind together. His eyes were so goddamn earnest.

“We don’t have to have sex-” you nod your head at the obvious bulge in his jeans. “-but you’re hard right now.”

Marvin shrugs, “You know how it is seeing you up there.”

The false levity and his tired smile makes crackles run through your soul. Something slow and coy pulls at your lips and your eyes go half lidded as you lean forward on the mini stage.

“No, I don’t know, maybe you could describe it to me.” You watch as those earnest eyes flicker up and down your form. “Though I imagine it has something to do with the fact that you came all the way down here instead of to my house to catch me.”

“You could call the cops on me at your house.”

“Mhm.” you point to the door. “And Raheem is outside right now, like he always is, and I think if you try something I don’t like he’d have a way faster response time than the police.”

“I’m not winning right now, am I?”

You shake your head as satisfaction shifts the upturn of your lips and your teeth flash at him before you chuckle.

“Oh yeah, I’m eating your ass up right now. Just be fucking honest.”

Marvin stops meeting your eyes as his gaze flutters around the private room and you watch him hard before sitting back. You wait him out as his eyes inevitably find something that worries him and he starts shuffling things around. Everything in ascending order by size, from wipes to massage oil.

“I’ll admit the line of thinking that brought me here wasn’t…the best.”

“You didn’t want me to tell you no.”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t want you to feel unsafe. And yeah -hell yeah- I didn’t want you to tell me no, but if I’d caught you off guard you’d have felt intruded upon-”

“And I wouldn’t have talked to you. Not this well anyway.”

You give him a small smile and he gives you a wider one back.

“See. I know you.”

The only thing you respond with is a bitten back laugh before nodding at his active hands.

“I know that when we broke it off you weren’t this bad.”

He nods at the soft note in your voice but still shrugs it off.

“It’s just hard doing all of this shit without structure.” He finds the cleansing caddy beside him to shuffle around to his satisfaction. You don’t stop him. “Last time I slowed down, before Butcher got back on his bullshit and carried me along for the ride, I had the girls. Then after everything I had you and then nothing because things got crazy again, and I don’t know what I’d do if any of you got hurt.”

You swallow hard, “Marvin-”

From where he’s stacking the wipe packets he shakes his head and intermittently meets your eyes through his movements.

“Let me finish, baby.” He waits for your nod to continue. “I want to get back with you. To make us work cause I know I didn’t hallucinate all the good times we had, and I didn’t memorize your smile from lack of practice. Please Y/n.”

He made a hard case to go against.

“Okay…one more go.”

“That’s all I need.”

The eager lines of his own smile break down the paper thin borders of your resolve even more. It takes a couple more minutes of you basking in one another’s presence in silence before Marvin’s satisfied enough to give you his full attention. Whatever crisis he feels is gonna happen temporarily averted.

When he gets closer you shiver at the feel of his arms finally back around you. You accept his kiss with a little noise he matches with his own and your hands come up to cradle his face. Yeah, you could make this work.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I’ve been sitting in this one, so here y’all go. Mind any typos I’ll get to them eventually.

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[haitaini]

making nahoya flustered when u randomly sit on his lap, 'inadvertently' sinking into his crotch. all he can do is breathe heavily and act like he doesn't want to flip you over and fuck you til you pass out.

u, hana, are the spawn of the devil for giving me different nahoya thoughts Every Day

warnings: exhibitionism? its kinda light tho, he calls u whore n slut *twirls hair* and he pulls ur hair keke

hes just talking to souya and ken, legs bouncing up and down, fully absorbed in the conversation hes having while you look at him from afar, wondering when he’s gonna start giving you attention. you tried to text him, but his phone’s always on silent. you’re tired of it at this point.

so you walked to him, expecting his attention to be yours, but that did not happen. he greeted you with a kiss to your lips, wrapped his arm around you and continued his conversation.

you stayed sitting in your place for what felt like hours, when in reality it’s only been fifteen minutes, just thinking about this. yes, it’s been bothering you that much. you stretch, and whine from how bored you are, before an idea popped into your head.

you looked around, everyone busy with their concersations themselves and you took it as a chance.

you removed his arm from around you and climbed up to straddle his lap, thighs on either side of his leg, pushing your hips directly on top of his clothed cock. his attention was fully on you now, caught off guard from what you’re doing before you push your face into his neck, inhaling his scent and leaving wet kisses all over him, causing him to grip your waist so tightly it could leave bruises.

you pull away to look at him, and he’s flushed red, eyes hooded and dark with lust engulfing them. you hear a whistle coming from the other side of the room but decided to not pay attention to it. nahoya then grabs your shirt and pulls you towards him so youre head level with him, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing im front of everyone, you slut?” he mutters, voice threatening and low. “you better fuckin’ behave, or you’re not seein’ heaven.”

you whimper at his words, hearing more people talk behind you but you pay no mind, brain only focusing on nahoya and nahoya only. “shut your fucking mouth shuji, i’ll fucking kill you.” you hear your boyfriend bark at hanma brfore looking back at you, lust and irritation evident on his face.

“jus’ wanted your attention ‘hoya,” you pout and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to get him closer to you. “nah babe, you wanted everyone’s attention in this room,” he says before stroking your cheek with his fingers. “like the little fuckin’ whore you are.” he mumbles and moves to play with your hair. “no! only you, no one else, been craving your attention so bad.” you whine as he grins at you and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“you have no fuckin’ idea how much i wanna bend you over on that table, and show everyone how much of a filthy attention whore you are,” you let out a whimper at his words and grips his shirt with both fists. “i bet you’d fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you?” your eyes flutter close and you nod, “y-yeah, i want everyone to know how good you make me feel, please ‘hoya.” you breathe out before he chuckles, gripping a handful of your hair to raise your head, eyes rolling to the back of your skull trying to muffle the moan that threatened to leave your lips as a wave of pleasure pulsates in your bloodstream.

“and that’s exactly why im not doing shit to you,” you gasp as he tugs you by your waist, seating you directly on top of his hardening cock. “you’re gonna be sitting here in this position until we leave, move and you’re not getting shit,” he breathes into your ear, hearing you whine. ���if you do stay still though, you will be rewarded greatly, so choose what’s best for you, pretty.”

[stardustedangel]

Red Light

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pairing || ransom drysdale x fem!reader

word count || 2.4k

summary || you and ransom have some fun in his car after you had been begging for some special attention

warnings || 18+ ; minors DNI ; teasing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), finger sucking, car sex, semi-publix sex, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, slight degradation

author’s note || first fic in over two months so i’m nervous but hope everyone likes it <333 YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY PERMISSION TO RE-PUBLISH, TRANSLATE, OR TAKE ANY OF MY WORK.

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There you were, sitting in the passenger seat while your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your slip dress in a sad attempt to keep your hands off of the man driving. You glanced over at Ransom and clenched your thighs at the sight beside you.

Nostrils flared. Eyebrows furrowed. Bottom lip pulled between his teeth and two fingers were placed against his temple in an attempt to rub out his growing irritation. God, it was a sight to see. You tried to keep the small smile threatening to show as pride bubbled in your chest knowing that you were able to work up a reaction like this from him.

You knew you should’ve been embarrassed with what had happened in the last thirty minutes. Ransom and you had been at a bar drinking with some of his friends when you all but begged him to leave. He’d refused the first few times you had asked, throwing you an eye roll and telling you that you’d both leave with the next hour, but when your hand palmed at his subtle bulge under the table he dragged you to the car, but not without throwing his friends a half-hearted apology.

You’d been thinking of something to say. Maybe asking him where he was going as if you didn’t know. Just something to break the tension in the car—something that would hopefully end in him taking you over the hood of his car. It only took a few more seconds of rubbing your thighs together and mouth opening and closing time after time trying to force words out before a whimper tumbled its way out of your mouth. Your head fell against the headrest in embarrassment, but your thighs didn’t stop their movements.

Ransom’s eyes left the road for a split second to take in your hazy appearance, either from the alcohol or from how needy you were, and eyes shifting lower to see the way your dress was slowly slipping up each time your thighs shifted together.

Ransom’s eyes returned to the road as he let out a deep sigh. “What are you doing?” Thank god he said something.

You let out a frustrated whine, confused as to why Ransom was taking his sweet time on the road instead of fucking you the minute you two got into the car. You were even more annoyed that he wasn’t showing you attention while driving—no hands on you and only one gaze your way since he’s been driving.

“Waiting for you to do something,” you whined while your body slightly thrashed in the seat.

Ransom couldn’t stop the amused quirk of his eyebrow, “Oh?” Ransom halted the car when he saw the light flick to red and looked over at you lazily. “What exactly should I do, baby?”

“Fuck me,” you said bluntly with a whine trailing off at the end of your words.

You slid your left hand across the center console and set your hand on Ransom’s upper thigh. You squeezed lightly before trailing your hand to rest on his bulge, squeezing again all while making eye contact with Ransom. He twisted his face in mock sympathy, leaning over the console sweetly holding your hand that was placed over him. You were quick to lean into him, thinking he was going to finally give you what you want before he tossed your hand back into your own lap and started driving again when the light turned green.

You groaned and sunk further into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fucking tease.”

Ransom chuckled and rolled his eyes at your words. “That’s rich coming from you, baby.”

Truth be told, Ransom would have no problem fucking you in his car—maybe ever pulling over and bending you over the hood while he gave to you as good and hard as you always liked it, but where would the fun be in that? He loved watching the way you got yourself worked up all night, trying desperately to drag Ransom away from his friends so he’d touch you or give you anything. And he loved seeing you squirm in the seat of his car, practically dripping onto the seat. Ransom was willing and looking forward to seeing how far you’d take things.

“I can’t wait till we get home. Can we do something now, please? I just,” you cut yourself off when you let out a desperate sigh, “I can’t wait, Ransom.”

Though his eyes were still focused on the road you pouted up towards him. Putting on your most innocent, pleading expression you could and leaning in towards him. His eyes left the road to connect with your bright ones, feeling a small part inside of him twinge in pity. A bigger part of him felt pride, amusement, and all and all—need.

Ransom saw the way you were eyeing his bulge and his mouth quirked up in a smirk as he relaxed further into his seat. “You have until we get home, kitten. Better make it quick.”

You squealed in excitement. Hands sliding over the center console and working on the button and zipper of Ransom’s pants, hand reaching beneath his underwear to pull his cock out. You didn’t know how long you’d have till the two of you would be home, but you figured choking on his cock was a good way to pass the time.

Your right hand worked over the bright red tip, smearing his precum around. Your hand left his cock for a split second to spit into it before returning and working your hand up and down. Ransom let out a low groan, grip tightening around the wheel as your own tightened around him.

You barely paid attention to the reactions that you were getting out of Ransom, instead choosing to focus on the movements on your hand. With each pull upward your thumb rubbed over his tip. After a couple of minutes, you leaned your head down to lick his tip, then dragged your tongue down to lick the underside of his cock. Ransom let out a shaky breath, hand coming to rest on your head and thread through your hair, not pulling or tugging, just simply resting there.

You finally took him down your throat, mouth wide and eyes closed as you reveled in the feeling of some of your needs being satiated. You always loved taking Ransom down your throat; having him use you any way he liked. Your left hand grasped onto his thigh while your right continued to work over the parts of him that you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Ransom quietly let out, but you still heard it. You moaned in response and Ransom’s hips quickly thrust up, eliciting a gag from you. You kept your mouth on him, but only quickened your pace.

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth is so warm. Fuck- feels so good.”

Your mouth came down harder and quicker, taking him down your throat even further, taking pleasure in every sound that Ransom made. Ransom shuddered above and had to make a conscious effort to slow down the car. He hadn’t noticed how hard his foot was pressed down on the gas pedal until he was forced to slow to a red light. He was grateful that it was only him and a couple of other cars on the road.

Ransom’s grip then tightened in your hair, pulling you up and down faster as he continued fucking your mouth. He was chasing his high and all you could do was wait for him to come down your throat. As he chased his high, your hand moved back towards yourself and under your dress, rubbing your clit through your lace panties before shoving two fingers into your pussy. Ransom took notice of this and his hand left your hair, yet his thrusts never ceased. He spanked your ass that was arched high in the air as you played with yourself, making you moan and jolt forward.

“Playing with yourself while taking me down your throat? You’re such a dirty girl, fuck. Such a dirty girl letting me fuck this warm mouth right here.” Ransom’s words spurred you on, making your cunt clench. He spanked your ass again, noticing you getting closer to your high.

“Fuck, kitten. That’s right. Come all over those pretty, little fingers. Be my good girl.” You moaned against his cock and your hips started to rock over your own fingers.

It only took a few more rolls of your hips for you to come, whimpering and loaning on Ransom’s cock while he palmed at your ass. Ransom pulled you off him with a pop. “Ransom,” you whined up at him needily. Eyes glassy and lips red and swollen. He took a firm grip on your jaw, pulling your mouth onto his, tongues moving over one another’s before pulling away.

Ransom’s previous plans of driving home had been long abandoned. He quickly put the car in park, not caring that he had just stopped fully at the light—not like there were any cars around anyways. Ransom looked at you with a smirk on his face. “Change of plans,” he grabbed your waist and swung you into his lap, “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want right now.”

You moaned and started to rut against Ransom’s cock the moment you were settled in his lap. His head teased your folds as he pulled your panties to the side and used his right hand to move the car seat back. When the seat jerked you gasped and pulled at the collar of Ransom’s shirt eagerly. “Fuck me, please, Ransom. Need it so bad.”

“Don’t worry, kitten,” Ransom lined himself up at your entrance and placed his hands on your hips before looking at you with a mockingly sweet look in his eyes, “I got you.”

Ransom then thrust up into you the same moment he pushed you down onto him. You cursed loudly at the feeling of being stretched out so deliciously. The feeling you had been waiting for all night was finally here and your body moved quicker than your mind did as you started to ride Ransom.

Your hands settled on Ransom’s shoulders while his fell to your hips fastening your pace. His nails were biting into your skin leaving crescent-shaped marks that you were sure you were going to see the next day. His head tipped back and his mouth fell open at how warm and tight you felt around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me. Can’t wait to come in this tight, little cunt, baby.”

You sobbed and threw your head back when the head of his cock hit the special place inside of you that had you squirming. You could already feel your next orgasm building from your last and started to pull at the collar of Ransom’s shirt desperately. You looked at him with dark, lust-blown eyes and whimpered. “Ransom,” you gasped and swallowed in an attempt to get the words out, “kiss me.”

Ransom was quick to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you into him. Your lips slid together as his tongue slipped into your mouth and played with yours. His hand on your neck tightened and as the kiss continued you were slowly becoming light-headed. Everything felt like too much yet not enough at the same time. Each time you wanted to pull away from the pleasure you were only further encouraged by yourself to dive in deeper.

Ransom's tongue licked over your bottom lip as he pulled away and used his grip on your throat to bounce you harder onto him as his hips thrust in time to meet your movements. His hand previously on your hip went to play with your neglected, throbbing clit and that sent your upper body curling into Ransom.

“Ransom! F-fuck, I’m gonna come.” Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as he groaned at your touch, and your face rested in the crook of his neck. Your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and nipping marks that you hoped would last for days.

“Come for me, kitten. I’m right behind you.”

You quickly came undone around Ransom, clenching around his and hands tightening onto the tufts of hair between your fingers. Your hips rolled against his wanting to ride out your orgasm as long as you could. Ransom helped you along as his fingers circled and played with your clit as you came. Seconds later both of Ransom’s hands returned to your waist to bring you down onto him one last time as he crashed into his own climax. He mumbled your name over and over as he rode out his own high.

The two of you finished riding your highs out and your bodies were sat close together, exhausted and sweaty. When you had enough energy to move you sat up and threw Ransom a tired, but bright grin. He returned a smug grin of his own, hand coming to guide your face to his to place lazy kisses onto your lips. They weren’t as heated and desperate as before, but the passion was still there as the two of you lazily kissed.

Ransom separated from you and moved your body upwards slightly to pull himself out of you. He cockily admired the way his cum dripped out of you and used his fingers to push it back into you. He adjusted your panties back over yourself and tapped your thigh teasingly as he finished. Ransom pressed a kiss onto your collarbone and carefully maneuvered you back into your seat. “Let’s get you home. Alright, baby?”

You hummed and slumped back into your seat with a dopey grin on your face, your body feeling fully relaxed and your mind completely fucked out. “Yes, sir,” you said in a teasing manner.

“Oh, one more thing,” you said quietly and shuffled in your seat slightly as you beckoned Ransom to lean over the center console towards you. He did and let out a low 'yes, baby?’ as he did. You lined your lips up to his ear and giggled to yourself.

“The light’s green,” you whispered with a cheeky smile. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling back fully into your seat and bringing the seatbelt over your body, eyes closing in content. Ransom could only shake his head at you with a stupid, grin on his face as a breathy comment of ‘brat’ left his lips before he was buckling up himself and putting the car in drive, ready to leave the light that the two of you had been sitting at.

You giggled at his next teasing words and bit your lip in excitement. “Don’t get too tired, baby. You’re gonna wanna be up and ready for round two.”

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taglist || @donutloverxo @aquariuslavenderhoney @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @strawbeariefaerie @kenzieam @animnerd @capsiclecevanss @honeychicana @la-cey @nony-bear @doozywoozy @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @white-wolf1940 @patzammit

(send me an ask if you want to be added <3)

[zeninsama-moved]

I HAVE MORE please stop me

-aki likes cars. Readers like okay. But she wants to get more invested in it for him, so she asks to go to a car show. He takes her to one and they walk around looking at all the cool cars. Reader is dressed like a snack™️ and she keeps bending over to look at cars. Other men are looking at her and about to hit on her or do and aki scares them away. They end up going home and readers like “you know I like your car the most /double meaning/“ then they fuck on the hood of his car

-WHAT IF ok hear me out what if they do drag racing and it’s a competition and reader is like the flag girl looking all hot. She wanted to go in the car with aki but he wouldn’t let her cause it’s too dangerous so she’s like fine I’ll look hot and do the flag thing. And he’s like okay? He didn’t realize how much he’d like it until he saw her walk up and stand between the cars and wave the flag thing and he’s like oh I have discovered a new thing about me aknfkshdisj and he’s racing whoever and readers like waiting and the girlfriend of the other racer is like talking down on aki and reader pops off and talks about how cool he is, after a long time she gets nervous cause he should’ve been here already. Eventually he comes back /first place obviously/ she jumps up on him and kisses and is like YOU SCARED ME and he’s just happy he could make her proud

-reader getting into a fight with another girl. It’s getting pretty ugly but aki doesn’t step in cause he knows reader can handle herself and he wouldn’t hit a girl, but then the girls boyfriend starts talking shit about reader and akis like alright that’s my cue *cracks knuckles and punches the guy once super hard and he either KO and the girl gets scared and they stop and run off or the boys get in a fight too and the girls have to drag them away cause aki is gonna kill him* if it’s the second one then reader takes him home and is cleaning up his wounds /you should see the other guy/ and is like “you didn’t have to do that for me.” And aki looks deep in her eyes and is like “of course I do.” Sijdjsbxjsjd

-reader and aki have a sleep over with pjs and a movie and candy and popcorn and they just like hang out I think it’d be cool to see more of their friendship. It’d be cool for like before they got together and they’re both in relationships with other people and readers boyfriend calls and is like “where are you you aren’t responding to my texts” and she’s like “oh I’m having a sleep over” and he’s like “with who” and she’s says “aki” and the guys weirded out like “…your guy friend?” And she’s like “yeah 🥰” not realizing what that seems like skcjosjsks but also it’d be cute to see after they’re together too

ANYWAY skjdksbxjajdho -rem

REM, THE SLEEPOVER ONE IS KILLING ME!!! reader sitting there watching a movie with aki while her phone is blowing up beside her... it makes even more sense bc her prequel bf is naoya & he's soooooo jealous and toxic... u would not hear the END OF IT!!!

AND OHH MY GOD, READER PATCHING UP AKI AFTER A FIGHT!!! HIM DEFENDING YOUR HONOR!!! apologizing for the sting when u dab at his busted lip but he can't focus on anything other than the fact that you're so close to him right now, he can feel the warmth of your breath fanning across his face... it's rare for aki to get sentimental because he's usually so 😐 but he would look u in the eyes so sincerely and tell you he would always stick up for you like that, it's the least you deserve. GOD, I WANT THEM TO KISS!!! that's the most stressful part of the prequel dkfls so much tension and pining and i'm screaming at our own story like JUST KISS ALREADY!!!

the street-racing one is sooo sexy too... like in genesis when reader leans through aki's window when he's picking her up... this man would want to fuck u on the hood of his fancy fixed-up car <3