#patient y/n

[fl3shm4id3n]

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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴜʙᴜꜱ/ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: slight SMUT?, Mentions of murder/homicides, reader is a narcissists and delulu (delusional af), mentions of promiscuity, talks about sex, reader is self absorb, age gap (reader is early 20s and Jonathan is in his early 30s), toxic behavior, reader is a bit needy, making out, titty grabbing and groping.

A/N: I wanted to write something, based on Jennifer Check from Jennifer's Body.

Masterlist

All that you regretted was not being careful enough, you had been caught. And out of all night, it just had to be prom night, you hated being seen the way that you did. Your dress all wet with blood, your hair was also wet and your makeup was a mess. When you saw the pictures on the news paper, you nearly lost it. All you wanted to do was scream by how bad you looked that night. The only good thing was that you looked hot in the orange jumpsuit given to you, the whole trial you were busy trying to look good and pretty for the cameras. You'd even smile and wave as if you were some kind of celebrity who just won an award and was loved by many. You weren't, but you loved to think that you did.

You were going to be an Arkham for a while, well until you were stable enough to go back out into the real world. You hated your stay. They didn't give you any kind of skincare or makeup that you could use. The only thing that was good was that you had your own room. Except that room looked like shit. You hated it, but it was better than dealing with a lunatic. Most days you'd be rotting in bed or looking at yourself in the small plastic mirror. Trying to make yourself look decent of some kind. You hated not having skincare of your makeup. One morning you had woken up, then discovered that you had a pimple on your cheek. You threw a fit, you screamed and even fought with the security guards because of your silly little outburst.

You didn't even know if you'd be able to stand being in Arkham for long. It's already been two whole years and you still haven't adjusted to that place for lunatics. You wanted to get out, but you couldn't. You couldn't bride anyone with smiles, eyelash flutters or even a kiss on the cheek. Nope, it would be much harder then you thought. When it came to doctors, you tried to bride them with a wink here or a complement there. But no, they'd get fed up with you and leave to tend to someone else. It frustrated you so much. One because those tricks would normally work on anyone. Mainly those dumb high school boys who really wanted attention from a hot girl. Except, you weren't in high school anymore. You were a whole adult and so was everyone in the nut house.

That morning you simply laid in bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling while chewing on a piece of your hair. You were bored, not only that but you felt as if your skin was dry and flaky. You were having a bad morning, all you wanted to do was lay in bed and simply rot. While you continued mindlessly staring at the ceiling, you heard your door open. Sitting up, you saw that it was one of the guards. Great, another doctor. Hopefully this one is easy to crack.

You got up, then followed the guard into the room where you were left alone with the doctor. They told you to sit down and wait, as you waited. You couldn't help but bitch and whine to yourself about looking like crap. "Ugh, if I could at least have my gold hoop earrings." You whined, while throwing your head back as you slumped onto the chair. After a few minutes. You heard the door open, you didn't brother looking over until you saw a man standing in front of you. "You must be miss L/N." He said, his voice sounded, soothing and almost relaxed. Looking up, you saw who this new doctor was.

You were taken by surprise due to how cute he was. He looked no older than late twenties or early thirties maybe. He has brown hair, pale skin, peachy plumped lips and those eyes. God, those eyes were the most beautiful thing ever, almost as beautiful as you. He looked just like those boy magazines that you'd often stare at and have day dreams about bring with those boys. "And who am I pleasured to meet?" You asked, while sitting up straight, even fixed your hair a bit. "I'm Jonathan Crane, but you can call me Doctor Crane." he responded, with a neutral look and voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip and ogle at him, like a teenage girl, that you still wished you were.

"Do you know why am here?" Jonathan asked, while studying your body language. Seen how you must have been smitten by him. It was an obvious observation. "Because you wanted to see the one and only, Y/n L/n?" You teased, while you giggle. All he did was look at you, seen how you were just being a tease. "Just kidding, you came to see what was wrong with me, but don't worry. There's nothing wrong with me, but I'll let you check me up." You said, with a smile and wink. Jonathan just sighed, he almost couldn't believe how shameless you were. "So, your file says that you have been convicted of a few homicides involving boys." He explained, reminding you on why you were here in the first place.

"That was a long time ago, it doesn't even matter anymore." You said, almost getting annoyed but kept your composure. "Tell me about yourself, you must be interesting." You said, while leaning against the table a bit, giving him somewhat of a view of your chest. You were glad that the orange shirt of your prison jumpsuit was somewhat big enough to give a peak at your chest. "How about, we talk about you instead. I'm here to talk to you and about you." Jonathan said, making you blush like a school girl. Were you dreaming or something? "About me? What of me?" You asked him, while looking at him. Admiring how handsome he was. How well put together he is. You just wanted to run your fingers through his hair, maybe even take his glasses and try them on just for shits and giggle. You felt as if you had fallen in love with him on the spot.

"Dunno, I'll let you decide." He said, god he was such a gentleman. "I don't know..." you said, not sure what to say or do, but then you got an idea. You quickly changed your demeaner, you went from being flirtatious to a bit sad. "It's just, been so lonely." You moaned, almost seductively. But he didn't budge. "How so?" He asked, while studying your body language. "You know, no big, strong, handsome man to protect me." You said, while looking at him directly in his eyes. You had a small pout on your lips. Trying to seem and sound as innocent and seductive as possible. "I'm sure security is doing that." He said, damn it! He wasn't falling for it.

You sighed, but kept up your act. "I know, but... You know what I mean. I want someone to love and protect me. You know, how a husband protects his wife?" You asked him, while moving both your arms on both sides of your breasts and slightly pushed them together. Making them more visible for him to see. But you noticed how he wasn't even trying to look at your chest. He just looked at your face. Then you thought of something, slowly. You scooted a bit closer to the table, then your right arm reached over and held it out for his hand to take. "Can you lend me a hand?" You asked sweetly while tilting your head to the side. Jonathan hesitated, but he reached out and allowed you to get a hold of his hand.

You took his hand and slowly guided it towards your chest, but you placed his hand on where your heart was. His huge palm could feel the plushy and softness of your breast. You somewhat wished that he'd give it a small and light squeeze. "Feel my heart Doctor Crane... I think it's broken." You nearly said in a whisper. Seductively. Even with his hand on your breast he didn't seem to budge, he just looked at your face and nothing else. After some time, he removed his hand off your breast and checked the time on his watch. "Well, our time is up." That's all he said, you felt disappointed. You weren't used to that kind rejection, your previous doctors would of cummed right in their pants, him? He was going to be a challenge and you weren't going to give up easily.

Almost a whole month has passed and still, nothing. Doctor Crane was a hard nut to crack. Not only that, but your so called supernatural powers didn't show up. To this day, you still aren't really able to explain how you got them. Ever since that night that you had been killed by those guys who claimed to be a band, you've been behaving and acting strange. Were your powers weak? Or did they go away? The reason why you were powerful a two years back, was because you fed off the attention you were given by everyone, specially the boys. In here, anyone barely even looked at you. It made you feel weak and drained. Maybe that's what it was, the lack of attention is what's making you feel that way. You hated it.

The only one who fed you attention was Doctor Crane, after your sessions. You'd have that energy, you felt much fresher than before. That's what made you love him even more. Despite his coldness, he gave you that energy that you so needed. Your previous doctors didn't do that, since they only see you once and after you played your little game they'd leave because they couldn't stand you. Ever since Doctor Crane into your life, you couldn't help but fall for him. Was it really love? You weren't so sure or bothered trying to find an answer to your question. You just loved how he'd give you attention, even if it'd irritate the hell out of him. He stayed. Probably to study you some more, but you didn't mind being studied by him. As long as he feeds you the attention you've craved for the last two years, you didn't care.

That day, you didn't see the doctor. Since he was other stuff to do. It'd been a whole week since you've seen him. He'd come every day, until now. He just hasn't showed up at all. It made you sad and made you feel even more tired and drained. His attention was something that you've got addicted too. You wanted it, you had to have it. But you couldn't, it wouldn't be easy. You felt your skin get flaky and dry, like a snake's. You began to see that you were getting dark circles under eyes. Because of how tired you've got. God, you missed him so much. You've began to have dreams of you and him, married, living together. You didn't understand why, you didn't have dreams of that sort, ever.

It was already late at night, you laid in bed. Alone in the dark, still feeling like shit. You were laying on your side, facing the wall. Thinking about Doctor Jonathan Crane. You simply stared at the wall, seen how you had managed to engrave his name onto that old concrete wall. Since the day he didn't show up, was when you craved his name into the wall. Just so that you could stare and look at the name, sometimes even caress it as if it was the most delicate thing. Eventually you closed your eyes, trying to maybe get some sleep, and dream about him.

But your eyes quickly shot open when you heard the door of your room open. You quickly sat up and turned around to see who or what it was. It was somewhat dark, but the small window of your cell allowed you to see who it was. It was him, Jonathan. He stood there looking back at you for a whole minute. You didn't even notice him closing the door, your name focus was him. "Jonathan?" You said, almost in disbelief. "The one and only." He said, his voice made your chest rise and your heartbeat go over the roof. Not only that, but you also felt how your skin began to feel fresh, as if cold water had been splashed onto your dry skin. Making it feel refreshed.

"Oh Johnny." You said, quickly getting up from your bed and ran up to him. He wasn't far away from you, since your room was small. Almost as small as your old walk in closet. Once you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Hugging him tightly. "I missed you, so much." You said, while hugging him. You couldn't help but get a whiff of his washed clothed mixed with his cologne. You missed that scent, his scent. You felt how he too wrapped one arm around your waist and petted your hair. "I know you did." He said, neutrally, but it sounded sweet to you. He was sweet to you in his way. You didn't want to let go or him to let you go. You wanted to be in his arms forever until you both die and rot.

Then he slowly pulled away from you, looking down at your face. But you kept your arms around his waist, so that he couldn't go just yet or even attempted to leave. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you." Jonathan said, while gently caressing your cheek. Making you purr and close your eyes by the touch of his hand on your now fresh and bright skin. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me here alone?" you asked, almost desperate to know his reasons why you disappeared for a whole week. "I had other things to tend to." He said, while looking at you. Seen how week and vulnerable you were at the moment. "Doesn't matter anymore, at least you came here. To see me." You said, with a small smile on your lips. Happy to be this close to him. This was the first time you've ever been this close to him.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked, almost timidly, but you just had to ask him. "Of course, what is it?" He asked, while looking at you. His eyes, damn those eyes. They made your legs shake and nearly go week. "Could I kiss you?" you asked, while beginning to breath heavily. All of a sudden you got, you felt your skin heat up and needed to remove some clothes just to calm the heat down. Jonathan smiled at you. Sweetly, but that sweetness had a small hint of sinisterism. "Of course you can." He said, without hesitating. You smashed your lips against his.

Jonathan let out a small grunt as soon as your lips touched his. Your arms snaked around his neck, desperately trying to get him to be closer to you than he already was. Jonathan held you close to him as well. The kiss got slightly violent and more sloppy. Both your tongued wrestled one another's, followed by teeth clanking against one another and your lips pressed against his. You needed that, you wanted that. Jonathan's hands grabbed at your ass, giving it a squeeze every now and then, as a way of getting you either railed up or just flat out tease you. Soon after, you felt his hand get a hold of one of your breasts. Causing you to moan against his mouth.

His palm caress and gripped onto your breast, slightly pinching your harden nipple. "Ah!" You moaned against his mouth, feeling how your once weak body was burning with desire. You wanted more, you needed more. As soon as your hands reached down to get a hold of his belt. Jonathan stopped grabbing your breast and pull away from the sloppy kiss. "Wha-" You manage to say. You looked at him, shocked and breathless by his sudden motion. "Now now." He simply said, while he admired how worked up you were. "But-" You were quickly cut off by him. "Shh, shh." He shushed you. In which you. You could feel how his cold hand gently got a hold of your chin and cheeks, as soon as his cold skin touched the hot skin of your cheeks. You felt relaxed.

"Patience. You're not ready yet." He said, making you let out a small whine. "But I am." You whined, you sounded so needy, but you didn't care. You wanted him right there and then. "You think you're ready, but you're not. Be patient." He said said, almost in a whisper. So that only you could hear. You wanted to protest, but you didn't. You choose to listen again. You simply nodded in response. "Alright, Doctor." You said, almost in a form of a moan. Jonathan smirked at you, gently cleaning off yours and his mixed saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. "Good girl." He praised, making you nearly fell at your knees by his words.

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[greengoblinswifey]

hii ! could you write a story about like nicholas chavez as a doctor x fem patient smut, I've been trying to find a good story like this but I literally can't 😭😭

much love !!

summary— you’re referred to Dr. Chavez at the hospital due to a misdiagnosis. one of your symptoms include intense, unrelenting arousal and as your doctor, it’s his job to help make you better in any way he can.

warnings— female masturbation, voyeurism, abuse of power, fingering, body worship, oral, degrading kink, praise kink, public sex kinda(hospital), unprotected sex, sir kink, ass slapping, choking(with tie), erotic asphyxiation, use of doctor during sex, slight manipulation if you squint, aftercare.

a/n— i’d love if you guys send requests, reblog and comment☺️

After a recent misdiagnosis left you frustrated and your symptoms worsening, you were referred to Dr. Chavez. Though he seemed slightly irritated about having to “fix someone else's mess,” he introduced himself with a polite but distant professionalism. He stood before you, impeccably dressed in a white coat over a crisp suit and tie, every detail in place. He was calm, collected, and intensely focused as he started going over your symptoms.

When you finally mentioned the most embarrassing one, the constant, nearly unbearable arousal, you noticed his reaction, a slight widening of his eyes, and a pause in his typing. “And, uh, how often would you say this happens?” he asked, his voice steady but his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

“Constantly doctor,” you admitted, cheeks flushing. “I’m always horny, sometimes it’s painful. Like, I just can’t think straight, or focus on anything else.”

After ordering several tests, he told you they’d need to monitor you at the hospital. This only intensified your frustration, the more time you spent in his presence, the worse your symptoms felt, in particular your constant arousal. You tried to distract yourself by prying into his life, probing the doctor with questions. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which made your mind spin even more.

Hours turned to days, and your symptoms didn’t let up. You felt more tired, the frustration mounting as medical staff came in and out of your room. Privacy was nearly impossible, leaving you with no room to release the growing arousal that only got worse.

One night, after another round of exhausting tests, the hallway was finally quiet. You were alone. You couldn’t help yourself, the relief you craved was all you could think about. Without any other means as your vibrator had long since been forgotten at home, you let your fingers slide down, imagining Dr. Chavez’s calm voice, his firm hands. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan, picturing him standing over you, his gaze intense.

You flipped the sheets off you and hiked up the hospital gown they draped you in. Still not satisfied, you ripped your underwear off and spread your legs, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit then slipping into your sloppy hole. Soft moans filled the room as your head was swarming with thoughts of Dr. Chavez being the one to make you feel good.

Just then, the door clicked open, and there he was, clipboard in hand, looking caught off guard. He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the way you quickly pulled your hand back. He cleared his throat. “I came to check on you,” he said, his tone layered with something more than just professional concern.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “Doctor, I—it's been so hard, I couldn’t help myself.”

For a moment, he lingered there, eyes locked on yours, before he shook himself slightly. “It’s part of my job to ensure you’re comfortable and to help you,” he replied, voice slightly rougher, eyes not quite meeting yours as he jotted something down on the clipboard.

You looked at him, unable to hold back the desperation any longer and you noticed the dent in his pants. “Well help me, doctor,” you whispered, voice thick with need. “Can you do something to make it go away? Please give me something, anything to make it stop.”

He stopped in his tracks, his already intense gaze darkening as he absorbed your words. “Beg,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please, doctor,” you said, voice trembling, willing yourself to keep his attention. “Please help me, I need you to fix me, make me feel better.”

A dark chuckle slipped from him as he locked the door behind him, his fingers throwing off his tie and shrugging off his coat. He then stood right before you, his eyes sweeping over your form.

Without another word, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over your thigh as he leaned in close. “Needy, aren’t you?” he murmured with a smirk. His fingers teased, trailing down until they brushed against your pussy, his touch almost unbearably light.

“Please, Dr. Chavez,” you pleaded again, breath catching as his fingers lingered at the edges of your need. “Please, sir.”

His smile only widened as he took in your reaction, and without another moment’s hesitation, he knelt down before you. His hands were firm under your thighs and then his mouth was on your leaking pussy, a loud moan leaving you as he began. His focus was unrelenting, and you couldn’t contain your whimpers, each one drawing him in closer.

Every sound you made seemed to fuel him, his hands gripping you tighter, his touch sending you higher.

“Yes that’s it sir, don’t stop,” you whimpered, your hands going to his hair as you held him close and moved your pussy all over his mouth.

“Mm- you taste so fucking good, so fucking desperate for me aren’t you,” he hummed, in between licks.

He continued, now slipping a finger inside you and sucking on your clit, until, you arched your back off the bed and felt yourself let go, a sensation so intense you squirted and felt your pussy and your whole body quivering from it all.

His eyes met yours, a smirk on his lips. “You were so desperate, weren't you?” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Glad I could help.”

You leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips, savoring your own delectable taste.

“Hm,” Dr. Chavez paused, his lips still mere inches away from you, “based on my observations, I’ve come to the conclusion that you still need my help. You still need me to make you better, so I have to put my dick inside you sweetheart, I just have to.”

You nodded almost mindlessly, leaning into his touch, his mere presence was intoxicating. Though you got the relief you wanted, having him so close to you brought you back to square one. Your pussy was still leaking.

Breathlessly, he unbuckled his pants, the sight before you making you drool like a dog in heat. He slipped himself out, revealing a long, thick and rock hard cock you would do anything to feel inside you.

“God, look at you,” he said, licking his lips and pumping his cock, “tell me how bad you want me, how bad you want this dick.”

“Please sir, I want you so bad, I need you to fuck me. please help me,” you panted, desperation evident in your voice.

“That’s a good girl, my patients are always so obedient.” He grabbed your hair, bringing you down to his cock’s level and thrusted into your mouth.

“Worship this cock,” he demanded, his voice sounding strained as he tried to contain his moans.

“Fuck, I love your cock doctor, it tastes so good, I- mm, need it so fucking bad,” you said, in between having his dick brush your tonsil. You slurped and moaned as you continuously gagged on the feeling of him being so deep in your throat. Reaching down, you played with your clit, desperate for some sort of relief.

“Hey, hey, no,” Dr. Chavez bellowed, “stop touching yourself. I’m your doctor and I know what’s best, I’ll help you with my dick inside you, those tiny little fingers won’t satisfy you. They won’t make you better.”

You whimpered in response but listened. He was your doctor after all, he knew best. He would never tell you anything that wasn’t accurate.

His moans grew breathy and louder but as soon as you felt his balls tighten, he pulled you off his cock by the hair and in a swift motion, you fell flat on the bed.

“S’gonna be okay sweetheart, my cock inside you is gonna make it all better.”

Just as swiftly, his cock pierced your pussy, slipping inside you and stretching you slowly. The stretch was burning as he groaned and pushed deeper but the feeling was soon replaced by immense pleasure.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet, sloppy fucking pussy you’ve got huh,” he moaned, chuckling.

Your face was contorted in pleasure, looking up at your doctor as he pounded into you, the feeling better than anything else you’d ever experienced in your life. Your moans willed him on and his thrusts became more frantic as he felt your pussy grip and tighten around him.

“That’s it baby, this desperate little pussy can’t get enough of her doctor’s cock, gripping me so tight like she doesn’t wanna let me go.” A sob left your lips due to the intensity of it all and soon, you wrapped your legs around his waist, gripping on to him for dear life as you squirted on his cock.

“Good girl, that’s my needy fucking whore, let it all out.”

Small whimpers filled the hospital room as you slowly came down from your high, but you were still needy, your body grinding against him sending even more jolts of pleasure through you.

“M-more, please sir, just one more,” you begged tears in your eyes.

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re a fucking desperate whore aren’t you, God, you just can’t get enough of my cock.”

Your lips quivered and you knew you were being desperate but you didn’t care, all you cared about was your release just one more time. Just once and you’d be okay for the next few days. You needed it quick, the commotion was surely to make a nurse come wandering soon.

“I just— oh,” your sentence was cut short as he easily flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and slipped inside your wet pussy once more. You spread your legs and arched your back, needing him as deep inside you as he could go.

“That’s it baby, spread this fucking pussy.” He slapped your ass harshly and soon you felt something slip around your neck. It was his tie. He slipped the tie around your neck, not enough to restrict your airflow too much, but just enough to have your head spinning and only the thought of his cock in it.

“Take it, take this fucking dick. You were so desperate for it, now you have it.” A small cry left your lips as you felt him repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh you fucking love it, you love your doctor’s cock deep inside your wet fucking pussy don’t you, whore,” he inquired, pulling you back to his chest by the tie around your neck.

“Y- yes, I love it sir,” you managed to croak out.

“Good girl, because as long as you’re here and under my care, you’re gonna get this dick every fucking night. Every fucking time you’re needy and desperate my cock is gonna be here to fill this pussy.”

His words sent you over the edge and your body convulsed under his touch as you squirted. He continued fucking you through your high but you couldn’t take anymore. You squirmed away from him, your pussy somehow still gushing and he quickly pulled out, releasing his warm cum all over your back.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is just gushing,” he moaned, as he pumped his cock, milking himself of everything onto your back.

Your body was so weak you could barely form words as you tried to thank him for making you feel better.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s my job to help you.” He shushed you then went to the bathroom, bringing back a cloth to clean you up and get you back into your underwear and fix your gown. He didn’t need anyone coming to check and seeing you in that state.

He kissed your forehead, caressing your body as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“It’s okay baby, go to sleep, your doctor’s gonna always be here to make you feel better.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

based on this cus i couldn't help myself. fluff n kissing and lowkey iida stray😭 3rd year suki :3

"m'gonna kill you."

normally, most people would be extremely confused, if not terrified at someone wrapping their arms around their waist from behind and those words being growled in their ear.

though not terrified, you are a little confused as to why your boyfriend would say this to you. while also nuzzling into your uniform.

"katsuki, what ?"

"m'gonna fuckin' kill you, if you don't wanna die get ready to tusle." he reiterates, the seriousness in his voice confuses you even more but you can't help but laugh a bit.

"why, what'd i do ?"you chortle. immediately you're spun around and pressed against the abnormally large door of your classroom. you'd been leaning on it waiting for him after you couldn't walk to class together like you usually do since mina had asked you to walk with her to the vending machine to get a snack before class. you figured it'd be okay since you texted him and he read your message but didn't respond, it's a classic petty katsuki move so you thought nothing of it.

but now it's looking like maaayybee you should've.

"ya fuckin' left without me this morning." ah, thought so.

"oh ?" you giggle. he doesn't look amused, glaring harder at you "yeah." he urged. "abandoned me so you could run off with racoon eyes."

"and that's why you're gonna kill me ? cus i didn't give you your morning kiss ?" you tease, voice quivering as you hold in your laughter.

"yup. hope you said your prayers." you roll your eyes, looking around the empty hallways before you decide to make your move. it seemed your teacher was going to be arriving a little late and since everyone had already headed to class the coast was clear.

wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you give him your sweetest eyes. you squeeze at him when he keeps glaring, he grunts.

"we don't have to take it that far.." you muse, pulling him closer to you, his lip twitches as he looks down at you. you get up a little closer to his face, smirking. "shoulda thought about that, sweets." he grumbles, sarcastically spitting the petname. keeping his arms on the door behind you. he's tough, but you're not done yet.

slowly you trail your arms up all the way around his neck, tugging him closer to you innocently. his ears redden the slightest bit, his mouth turns downwards harder and he's basically squinting at you. oh, you got him.

" oooorr..i could just..give you a morning kiss now..? wouldn't that be better ? if you kill me, who will give you your morning kisses then, hm ?" the sudden thought of your boyfriend finding somebody else as childish as it is makes a little salty, so you scrunch your nose up at the air " don't answer that."

at that, he cracks a smile, obviously proud to see the effect his insufferable self has on you. leaning in until your noses are a breath away from eachothers he smirks, usually he'd comfort you about your worries, but he knows better than to answer lest you get cranky and he doesn't get his kiss at all "fine." he grunts finally, his arms suddenly wrap around you, pulling you completely to his chest. he smirks when you splutter in surprise.

he grins "better make this one good, otherwise you owe me five more."

he says though he doesn't let you go after you've pressed your lips to his once..or the second time, pulling you closer to him and grumble when you try to pull away for a third kiss "stop squirmin'" he complains, arms squeezing you closer as you giggle about someone seeing you. katsuki bites at your lip, causing you to gasp. he breathes heavily "i don't care. gimme my kiss." he insists.

and how could you deny him ? you really couldn't, even as you hear your class rep gasp about how indecent and inappropriate you're both being. katsuki pulls away just slightly to grumble against your lips. and he shoots you a look, making a face to make fun of the boy scolding you both, you snort loudly and cover your mouth hoping he hasn't heard you.

katsuki is as unbothered as ever, snickering to himself that he was able to make you laugh, and he doesn't need anything else. he shoots iida a look, tells him him to fuck off, then dives in for one more kiss. he grabs your hand to drag into the classroom. he ignores iida as he continues lecturing you both, sending him a middle finger.

[yawnderu]

CW: mentions of kidnapping and stolen body autonomy.

Find a way in, kill the enemy, retrieve the hostages, leave. A routine of sorts that gave his life some sense of purpose to avoid going insane for the past two decades. Simon liked to believe he got over what happened in his past... truly, he did; and yet Manuel Roba’s horrors seem to haunt him no matter where how many years pass.

“C’mere.” Simon’s voice held no hostility, he made sure of it, yet your stiff position never changed. Legs angled to the right, hands folded on your lap, and eyes looking forward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze even if it’s been hours since your rescue. Garrick, Price and Johnny have already tried to get you to talk multiple times, all of them with different approaches. 

Garrick was friendly, trying his best to seem approachable, a bright smile on his lips that you didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at a wall no matter how much he tried to hold a conversation.

Price seemed fatherly, never once laying a hand on you even if it was itching to comfort you, and so he settled with telling you you’re safe now, how no one will ever get you again now that they're here. His words didn’t seem to do much, either. 

Johnny was… something else. His first attempt was a shitty pick up line, getting a reaction out of you for the first time— a nose scrunched up in disgust, but a reaction nonetheless.  

And Simon… Simon’s approach was different. The man was used to barking out orders and obeying them himself, not to deal with an unresponsive hostage. His behemoth frame was nestled next to you, putting a tray on the table and observing your reactions. From the way you swallowed thickly the moment the meal was presented to you, to the sound of your stomach growling. 

“Go on, then.” Your gaze follows his movements for the first time, the feeling of your stomach rumbling makes you more aware of your hunger, so many years being fed nothing but what was necessary to keep you alive by Manuel and his associates, so many years of being trained like a dog to obey to their very order. 

Simon can see the hesitation in your body language, too tense to allow yourself to dig in the way you wanted, yet no longer as stiff as before. There was a sense of relief at the fact that they didn’t seem to want to hurt you —unlike Roba—, yet years of non-stop brutal training can’t be erased within hours.

Roba’s training was engraved into your brain, and while the sense of security the SAS blokes gave you is something you’re thankful for, nothing guarantees they’re not working for him. You’ve seen other military men come and go throughout the years, always Roba’s friends, and always sharing the same disgusting, sadistic desires.

“Eat up.” The rest of the men watch the way you move, curiosity and amusement mixing at how strange your movements seem, almost robotic. Your forearms rest on the table, elbows away from the cheap wood as you attempt to hold your own cutlery— attempt, because it looks fully foreign to you, trying out different angles to make it work, and yet it's the first time in years you've been allowed to try and feed yourself.

Simon is the first one to catch on, having lived under Roba’s rules for long enough to know he enjoys taking people’s autonomy, to reduce them to nothing but a pathetic mess that depends on him. His gloved fingers are gentle as he takes the spoon from your hand, scooping up some food before holding it up to your lips. His full attention is on you, relief starting to make its way into his body as sees your rather soft lips wrap around the spoon, eating whatever he was feeding you. Lucky for you, this time it wasn’t an MRE… or beans on toast.

His gloved thumb wipes the corners of your lips every time you’re done chewing, and he’s quick to pick up more food from the plate, nothing but patience and kindness shown in his actions, so unlike the brooding soldier he's known to be.

“... two goldfish are in a tank…?” Johnny’s loud groan gets your attention for a second, yet you quickly glance back at Simon, curious eyes looking up at him, almost as if asking him to go on. 

“One turns to the other and says… ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You can see the corners of his eyes crinkle before he even finishes his joke, clearly trying his best not to laugh at just how awful it was. A small smile hides in the corners of your lips, and Simon takes that as a victory, ignoring the questioning looks he’s getting from his team, for now.

[nanaslutt]

gojo's first time meeting you and instantly noticing your freckles. like nothing other than your freckles, not even the clothes you're wearing rn or your hair or eyes.

freckles.

and im absolutely sure geto would be so fed up with gojo ranting about how he wants to kiss every single one of them.

oh my god this is so cute???????? this reminds me of gojos cannon reaction to seeing geto for the first time and thinking “bangs” lol

contains: fem transfer student!reader, 3rd year satosugu, geto choosing to stay at jujutsu tech au, the boys are both 19 here, Geto has morals, gojo uhhhhhh, crackkk, fluff, perv!gojo, masturbation, caught masturbating, fantasizing

note: the toji fic will b posted later tonight or tmrw morn :p

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Freckles………

If you looked close enough you might be able to see the white orbs floating around Gojo’s head,

“Uhhh, sorry is there something on my face” you spoke up when he didn’t say anything after you introduced yourself.

Satoru getting jolted out of his trance when suguru landed a mean smack on the back of his head, pouting at his dark haired bestfriend.

“Sorry about him,” geto apologized on his behalf, “he can be quite oblivious to how his actions affect other people.” suguru grit behind his teeth, looking out the corner of his eye to see satoru shooting daggers at him.

“Asshole…” the white haired man mumbled under his breath, looking up from under his white lashes, gaze set back on your face, watching you rub the back of your neck, saying something to geto.

Words leaving your mouth sounding muffled as his gaze dropped to your neck, noticing that the brown spots trailed further and further down the length of your neck, even traveling under the collar of your shirt, where the cloth obstructed his view.

Lip twitching up breifly at his annoyance, wanting to see just how far the freckles really went.

“Right satoru?” Suguru laughed, both of you directing your attention to the albino, “god da-“ smacking him harder once more on the back of his head, sending him his body curling in on himself on the ground and groaning, “manners satoru jesus christ.” suguru smacks a heavy hand over his face at gojos antics.

—

Gojo let his head fall of the edge of sugurus bed, silky hair falling around his ears, suguru laying against the headboard, flipping through some magazine, sugurus low-fi playlist playing softly in the backround.

“God….did you see how her frek-“ Geto swiftly cutting him off by kicking his foot into his shin, “satoru i swear to god if you say one more thing about her fucking freckles i’m going to cut out your tongue.” he spat, not looking up from his magazine.

For days after your first meeting he would not shut up about how cute he found your freckles.

Learning when you wore a skimpy tank top when sparing with shoko, that the cute spots not only covered your pretty face, but your arms and hands too.

Watching the light hit your skin as your body moved swiftly, shirt lifting when you flipped and twisted yourself, seeing the freckles and moles scattered across your tummy.

Shirt barely having lifted for a couple milliseconds, but he didn’t have good eyesight for nothing. Gojo quickly memorizing the placement of the dots and engraving it in his brain.

Brain practically short circuiting when the sun was beating down on the school a little too how one day, meaning he got to see you in shorts.

short, skimpy, tight, shorts.

It was like you wanted him to look, leaning over the counter, knees perched on the stool and elbows on the counter, cradling your soft cheeks in your hands as you spoke to shoko over the table.

Twisting your hips on the swivel stool, making the fabric of your shorts raise, letting him see even more brown spots on the insides of your thighs from his place on the couch behind you.

“torruuu,” geto caught him off gaurd, whispering into the shell of his ear, “quit bein a fucking perv.” turning to look at the not so friendly looking smile plastered on the dark haired mans face. ugh. buzzkill.

Taking them back to the present, “I know I knowww, you hate beauty we get it..” gojo drawled, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes. Lucky the bed blocked geto’s view of gojo’s face from here, as he probably would’ve hit him.

“I just cannot stop thinking about kissing her cute little face, maybe her neck..” pausing for a second, getting too absolved in his words, “below her neck…” he whispered.

“Satoru, stop telling me about your perverted fantasies about our new classmate, please.” letting the magazine drop into his lap as he finally let himself look down at the man.

Geto quickly noticing the extremely obvious tent in his pants. “You have 2 seconds to get you and your boner off my bed or your not gonna like it.” geto growled.

Gojo let his body slide of the bed backwards headfirst into the hardwood floor. “You hate meeeee,” he dragged out his words dramatically, “You hate my happinesssss” he continued, geto closing his eyes and shook his head, feeling a headache come on at his antics.

“I hate your penis.” Geto corrected. “She has a mind of her own, it’s not my faul,” gojo defended, sprawling his limbs out on the floor.

“Did you just refer to your dick as ‘she’?” Geto asked, needing to clarify the insanity gojo was spouting, leaning over the end of his bed to get a better look at the white haired freak.

“Well yeah,” he stated like it was obvious, “cant be a ‘him’, that would be gay.”

Geto blinked at him, glancing at the ceiling to center himself before he looked back at the man on the floor. Leaning back out of view, he picked up the magazine, throwing it straight at gojos crotch. Of course now of all times when geto decided to assault him, he had his infinity on.

“Oh that would’ve hurt so bad,” gojo closed his lanky legs together, covering his crotch with his hands. “I cant believe you really went for my nads.” gojo bit his lip in offense, faux crying at getos meaness.

Geto just rolled his eyes in response, flopping back into the bed, folding his hands over his chest as he was left entertain-less.

—

When the two of you finally exchanged numbers, he used the opportunity to ask to take a picture together; for your profile picture of course!

Definitely not because he wanted to stare at the picture by himself for hours; pinching the screen between his fingers, zooming in and out of on the photo as he now could really map out each and every one of your freckles.

Blushing when his brain compared them to the constellations, how romantic he thought.

What happened next was… less romantic.

Phone laid out on the bed underneath him while his hand laid next to it, bracing himself as he hovered above it, other hand rapidly stroking his cock.

Staring into your eyes unabashedly, no geto around to tell him off as he engraved whatever piece of your face he wanted into his brain permanently.

Squeezing over the tip when he looked at how big his hand looked compared to your shoulder, palm resting on it in the photo.

Twitching at the mole placed perfectly on your cleavage, getting a great view of the crack between your breasts from the high angle he held the phone at. Mentally patting himself on the back for that.

He had zoomed in onto your half of the photo, not wanting to look at himself while he masturbated.

Mouth watering with the urge to press his lips against every single one of your freckles. Imagining you giggling and blushing while he tickled your face with his soft lips making him dizzy.

Gojo imagined your hand instead of his, wrapped tightly around his cock. He imagined pressing his length against your plush lips, rubbing the tip over them, feeling your tongue dart out and lick his tip.

Groaning out your name when he came, abs clenching when ropes of cum spurted out of his dick, and all over the sheets underneath him.

Grimacing when he watched some of it land on his phone screen; disgust being slightly overpowered by how erotic your pixelated face looked with his cum decorating it.

“Satoru did you take my charger again? Swear i’m gonna kill you-“ Suguru cut himself short when he slid satoru’s door open, taking in the scene in front of him.

Geto wasn’t able to fully see his phone, but he knew full well what his jerk off material was.

Satoru gave him a dopey grin, practically seeing smoke emit from atop getos head as he slammed the door shut, kicking his foot against the wood and yelling out, “cant believe i’m best friends with such a pervert!” down the hallway, voice getting quieter the further he got away from gojos room.

Satoru didn’t care though, gazing back at his phone, picking it up in his palm before using his thumb to smear the cum over your smiling lips lewdly.

He absolutely needed to get his hands on you, and he would make sure he did.

[thechy-fychannel]

y'all ever think abt how it was julie having the affair and it is even said multiple times that she was the one who left him, yet wilson was still the one who left their home and moved in with house. like. he couldn't bear to stay in their home alone. he immediately ran to house and stayed on his couch for weeks. suffered through his pranks and his laziness and his manipulation. telling him he wants him gone while sabotaging his attempts to leave. and he only left once he got a girlfriend again.

[virescent-v]

Reader gets pregnant but baby’s father isn’t the picture and Emily’s helping and supporting reader through out the pregnancy?

Oh Baby

Summary: A glimpse of your pregnancy, with the help of Emily.

A/n: Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: none, this is all fluff! dont come for me about the name i couldnt think of anything else hehehe

Word count: 2.7K

You called her the second you realized your period was four weeks late. To be fair, you’ve never really had normal periods, so you hadn’t noticed at first. 

She showed up at your door, bag from CVS in hand. She didn’t say anything, just took your hand and led you to the bathroom, thrusting the pregnancy test (or five) in your hands before closing the door. 

You opened all of the boxes, followed the directions, and opened the door. 

She was patiently waiting on the other side, arms across her chest, chewing on her lower lip. 

“We’ll deal with whatever it says, however you want.” 

You could feel your eyes starting to tear up, your lower lip wobbling with the influx of emotion. 

Emily just held her arms out and you made your way to her, letting her gather you up in a forceful hug, as if she knew she was the only thing keeping you together right now. She rubbed soothing circles on your back, letting you take the time you needed. 

As you pulled away from her, she pushed your hair from your face. “You ready?” 

You managed a meek, “As I’ll ever be,” before leading her by the hand into the bathroom. You slid one of the tests over to her, grabbing a different one in your free hand. “Together?” 

Emily smiled a little at you, “Together.” 

You each flipped over the tests. 

***

She took off work for the first appointment, told her team to not call her under any circumstances until the appointment was over. She made sure to pick you up, drive you, and she even filled out the paperwork for you because your hands were too sweaty to hold the pen. 

When the nurse called you back, you made sure to grab Emily’s hand, dragging her along with you. She sat on the stool right next to the exam table, holding your hand the entire time. 

As the doctor put the ultrasound jelly on your stomach, you felt Emily lean a little closer to you, trying to see the monitor better even though she had no idea what she was looking at. 

A small little sac with an even smaller blob in the middle of it. 

A baby. 

You heard Emily take in a little breath, her hand squeezing yours a little tighter. You made eye contact with her, smiling at the barely hidden joy on her face. Emily’s always been really great with kids and you knew that she was going to be amazing with your little one. 

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” The doctor asked. 

You glanced quickly at Emily, a resounding ‘yes’ leaving your lips. A flick of the machine, a quick readjusting of the machine, and soon enough there was a rapid, static-like pulse emanating from the speakers. 

“Everything with the baby looks great,” the doctor said. “Do you want some printouts of the ultrasound?” 

“Absolutely,” you said. 

As you sat in the car on the way back to your apartment, you were looking at the ultrasound, each of the six frames looking like the same blob to you. With a quick decision, you tore it in half, leaving three frames on each side. 

When Emily parked, you handed her one half. “For you.” 

You watched as she reverently held the pictures, her finger rubbing gently across the middle frame. “I can’t wait to meet them,” she whispered. 

You smiled. You couldn’t wait for her to meet them either. 

*** 

At this point, you were well acquainted with the inside of your toilet bowl. The morning sickness had hit you swift and hard and out of nowhere. 

You were hardly able to keep food down, the smells of most things sending you running for the toilet. Your cravings hit you just as swift, but changed quicker than you could accommodate them. 

Thankfully, your boss let you work from home most of the week. You couldn’t imagine having to deal with this while in the office. 

Emily made sure to text you consistently every day, as much as her work day would allow for it. Currently, she was out of state, dealing with some psycho in Florida (go figure). 

Emily: How’s today? Still puking your guts up? 

You: Tell your soon to be bestie to calm down! Their mother actually needs to work to be able to afford them and she can’t when she’s constantly staring at the inside of her toilet. 

Emily: Put your phone up to your belly. 

Emily: Hi, little one! Auntie Em here. RELAX. Your mom is throwing a fit and needs to work! 

You: You’re insane. 

You: Thank you. 

Emily: 🙂Did it work? 

You: Ugh, yes, sort of. I’m drinking some water and ginger ale and munching on some crackers. 

Emily: I should be back tonight. Dinner? 

You: Yes, I miss you! We can decide when you get here? 

Emily: See you two soon! 

*** 

Second trimester brought nothing but constant weird cravings. Your pantry and fridge were overflowing with foods you’d probably never eat because it sounded good one second, but you ended up being disgusted by it the next. 

It was around midnight on a random Wednesday when you woke up starving and craving mint chocolate chip icecream and pickles. You padded your way down to your kitchen, tying the tie of your robe around you, before frowning at the lack of both in your refrigerator. 

Chewing on your thumb nail, blankly staring at the light emanating from within your fridge, you heard your phone buzz on the counter behind you. Sighing, closing the door dejectedly, you snatched your phone up, smiling at the text from Emily. 

Emily: I just got back from the case in Wisconsin. You up? 

You: I am. Cravings hit hard for choco chip mint icecream and pickles and I have neither. I might go to the store. :( 

Emily: Absolutely not. I’ll grab it and be right over. Your place is closer than mine and I’m beat. 

You shook your head, not arguing with her. Emily has been a lifesaver during your pregnancy, helping you as much as she can. She’s taken you to most of your appointments, helped you shop for (and build) some nursery furniture, and she’s bought the baby more clothes and toys than you have. 

The opening of your front door jolted you from your thoughts. 

“I come bearing gifts!” Emily said, walking into the low lit kitchen with a few bags. 

You stared incredulously, “Em! I wanted icecream and pickles! What is all of this?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I was hungry, too. And everything just looked so good. So I bought it,” she said, as she slid your icecream and pickles across the counter before emptying the bags. 

You rolled your eyes. You were going to have so much food go bad on you. Opening both the chocolate mint icecream and pickles, you smiled, a happy little dance making your body wiggle. 

Emily grabbed her own icecream, coming back to the island with two bowls and spoons. However, she watched in horror as you took one of the dill pickles and dipped it into the icecream and scooped some of it before shoving both in your mouth. 

You hummed happily, the saltiness of the pickle and the sweetness of the icecream hitting your craving exactly how you imagined it would. 

Glancing up, you almost choked and laughed at the look on Emily’s face. “Don’t say anything. Baby is wreaking havoc on my taste buds. Talk to them about it when they’re older. It’s their fault.” 

Emily furiously blinked a few times before taking a deep breath and ignoring the teasing remark she had. 

As she opened her chocolate icecream, you shrieked, covering your full mouth before rushing around the counter towards Emily. 

“What?! What’s wrong?” She said, throwing her spoon down, thinking something was wrong. 

You continued chewing, shaking your head, grabbing her hand and placing it on your stomach. 

Emily’s eyes caught yours as she felt the baby move and kick. “Is that…?” 

“Mhm,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. 

Emily knelt down to the ground, her face inches from your stomach. She was gazing at it with awe, rubbing small circles over the spot the baby had just kicked. “Hi, baby. I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered. 

At this moment, you’ve never been happier. 

*** 

The third trimester flew by. The nursery was done, with the help of Emily and her coworkers. How she managed to get Derek, Rossi, and Hotch to paint the nursery and build the rest of the furniture in one day you will never know, but you were incredibly thankful. It was one less thing you had to worry about. 

You had a hospital bag packed and ready in your car because the baby could come at any moment. 

Sniffling, you were trying to hide your disappointment as you talked to Emily on the phone. “It’s okay, Em. Work is important. Go. We’ll be here when you get back. They just might be outside of me when you do,” you wetly chuckled. You were hoping she could be there when the baby was born, but you understood her job sporadically called her away. 

There was a long pause. “You and this baby are more important than any job I’ll ever have. Do you understand that?” 

You took a deep breath in, catching the undertone of what she was saying. 

You and Emily had been toeing around each other for the past few weeks. Every moment felt charged and on the precipice of something more. Neither one of you ever brought it up, just allowed it to happen. You knew you were close to finally admitting to each other how you felt, but something was holding both of you back. 

“I know,” you whispered. 

Another long, tense silence. 

A deep sigh. “Try to keep them in there until I get back, okay?” 

“You got it, boss,” you said, still trying to hold back all of the emotions bubbling up inside you. “Stay safe and come home to us.”

You heard Emily suck in a breath. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

There was a click from her hanging up, and you rubbed your belly absentmindedly. Home. Emily was home. 

***

Your relationship with Emily came to head one scary night when you thought you were going into early labor. The contractions felt real – real for someone who has never felt real contractions before. 

Emily came over, rushed you to the hospital, and stuck with you the whole night just for the doctor to tell you it was false labor and to take it easy over the next few weeks until the baby finally made their appearance. 

She took you back home, well after midnight, both of you exhausted from the whole ordeal. You both settled into your bed, still a little hyped up from the adrenaline of a possible delivery. 

“I was a little scared, but also excited to meet them,” Emily whispered in the dark of your room. 

“Me, too. It’s still too early for them. They need to cook a little longer,” you giggled. 

You felt the bed shake slightly from Emily’s muffled laughter. “Don’t talk about my bestie like that! They aren’t a chicken that needs more time in the oven!” 

You laughed loudly. “I know they’re not a chicken, Em! They’re our kid, so I get it that they’re impatient, but they need to walk until it’s safe to come out!” 

It took you a few seconds to realize what you said. There was a tense silence from the other side of the bed. “Our kid?” 

You licked your lips, your hands fiddling on your stomach. Clearing your throat a bit, you sighed. “Yes, okay, our kid, Emily. You’ve been here since the beginning. And we both know our relationship has changed, is changing.” You turned your head, trying to seek her eyes out in the dark. “I’m tired of not admitting how I know we both feel.” 

You turned over, your enlarged stomach making it a bit of a harder task than normal. “You were here when I took the test, you take me to most of my appointments, you’ve built the nursery. Hell, Em, I’ve caught you talking to them when you think I’m asleep about all of the things you’re going to teach them, how you’re going to protect them, and threaten any future boyfriends or girlfriends!” 

You scooched closer to her, your hand coming up to play with her hair. You were pretty sure her eyes were shining with tears, but with how dark it was in the room, you couldn’t be sure. “I love you, Emily Prentiss. Wanna raise a baby with me?” 

Emily sniffled and laughed loudly, her voice gravelly from all of the different emotions the night was causing her. She brought her face closer to yours, rubbing her nose gently across yours. Another quiet sniffle. Her lips briefly met yours. “I love you, too. Let's raise a baby.” 

*** 

Frantically, you tried to put on fresh clothes. The maternity jeans you were wearing having been soaked because your water finally broke. 

Shoving your shoes into some sandals, not caring if it looked silly with socks, you shakily pressed familiar numbers on your phone, waiting for her to pick up. 

On the second ring, a rushed, “Hey, what’s up?”  

“Em,” you panted, rushing down the steps. “It’s time.” 

“What?” There was a second pause. “OH. Okay, okay. Stay there, I’m coming to get you.” 

“Okay, please hurry. These contractions are no joke,” you tried to laugh as another one took over. Through gritted teeth you mumbled, “Use the sirens.” 

Emily was at your place in less than ten minutes, lights flashing. You were at the nearby hospital in less than twenty, the contractions coming every couple of minutes. 

Emily helped walk you inside and get you checked in. In a flurry of minutes, you were undressed, in a hospital gown, and in your own room. 

As you were being assessed, Emily had stepped out of the room to make all of the calls to let your family and her team know what was happening. 

“Alright,” the doctor said. “Baby should be making their way into the world shortly. For now, we’re going to monitor both you and baby and get everything prepped.” 

Another, stronger wave of contractions hit as Emily came back into the room. She immediately rushed over, grabbing your hand and letting you squeeze the shit out of it. 

Over the next few hours, Emily stayed by your side, only leaving to get cold washcloths to wipe the sweat from your face, or to update everyone. 

With the contractions coming closer and closer apart, the doctor came in, gowned up. “Alright, mom. It’s time! Let’s meet this baby!” 

Emily got closer to you, continuing to hold your hand, her other brushing your hair out of your face. “You’ve got this, I’m right here.” 

You took a deep breath, gritted your teeth, and started pushing. 

*** 

What felt like hours later, many pushes, and a few inventive curses, an abrupt cry filled the delivery room. 

“Congrats, moms! It’s a girl!” 

You and Emily caught each other's eyes, not daring to correct the doctor. As the baby was checked, Emily wiped the sweat from your face, admiration shining in her eyes. “You did it. She’s here. I’m so proud of you.” 

A nurse brought over the clean little blanketed baby, smiling as she handed her to you. “What’s her name?” 

As you gazed down at the round, cute face of your newborn, you took a deep breath as her name came to you. You rubbed your finger across her chubby little cheek, getting a little misty eyed. 

You looked up at Emily, watching as her eyes held so much love for your daughter, for you. Your little family. 

“Charlotte Emilia. We’re hyphenating her last name.” 

Emily’s eyes widened a little. She swallowed a little thickly before whispering, “You sure?” 

You took her hand in yours, smiling at her. “I can’t imagine naming her after anyone else. She’s just as much yours as she is mine, Em.” 

You brought your hand up, wiping an errant tear from Emily’s cheek. Rubbing the skin there, you smiled brightly. You trailed your hand behind her neck, dragging her face towards you. “I love my family, Em,” you said, before kissing her. “Wanna hold your daughter?” 

Emily’s smile was the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. 

[kentophilia]

contains: FLUFF, non-sexual nudity, banter, established relationship, pet names, gender neutral reader, another drabble that's a little selfship coded; word count: 1.2k

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

minors, ageless and empty blogs will be blocked immediately!

kishibe was a man of habit. his workdays consisted of getting up at 7:00 (maybe 7:30 if he was really hungover), get ready and be out the door by 8:00 to start his monotonous workday at 9:00 sharp. clocking out at 5:00 to trudge to some shady, rundown bar and drink until the clock struck 3:00am and stumble home to crash on the couch. rinse and repeat.

but ever since you stepped into his routine-clad life, you turned him into a different man. he now stayed longer in bed with you, enjoyed a nutritious breakfast instead of just coffee and a cigarette from the corner store before work. he came home just in time for dinner to be ready, the smell filling his nostrils. excitement to see you would make his heart skip a beat.

for a relationship that started out purely physical to cure the old man’s loneliness after his divorce, you slowly but surely made a space for yourself in his heart. you melted his harsh and cold exterior personality and planted a bud of tenderness that slowly started to bloom. and while you felt like a nuisance in the beginning, he couldn't live without you now since his life would be incomplete. he'd never admit to that, though.

one particular night, you invited him to go through your night time routine together. he looked at you with a raised brow but your honeyed voice and pleads eventually convinced him.

it started with a nice hot shower, washing off the day. he had taken showers with you before but this time felt different. it was like time had slowed down. he enjoyed the way the water loosened his sore muscles, the way your hands gently massaged the shampoo and bodywash onto him, how careful you were applying the cleanser to his face not not get anything in his eyes or mouth (he did get shampoo in his eye, but he would never tell you that). he would do the same for you, making sure to press his lips against your skin every so often.

kishibe learned to be gentle for you. he knew he was a brute sometimes but he held you and treated you like the most fragile little thing. he also knew that sweet words weren't his forte, so he opted to show his feelings through touches. with every little kiss, there was a quiet “i love you” etched into your skin.

you dried each other off, staying naked in comfort while brushing your teeth. you squirted some lotion onto your hands before turning to him. your partner looked at you with raised brows. “you gonna oil me up now or what?” he teased, relishing in the soft laugh that escaped you.

“no silly. while i’d love to see you oiled up for me one day, i just wanna take care of you,” you uttered, shushing kishibe as he opened his mouth to protest, “you don't really take care of yourself other than the bare minimum and you always think it's silly of me to use all of these things so i wanna show you what it feels like to be pampered.”

your partner opened and shut his mouth like a fish before giving an affirmative “alright, do your worst” as the green light.

you started working the lotion into his chest with gentle pressure, moving onto his arms. he felt like he was on cloud nine, especially when you moved onto his back to massage the lotion in. he let out a relieved groan when you put pressure onto his shoulders, gently working at the knots in his back. you smiled when you saw his eyes closed in the mirror, feeling accomplished in getting him to wind down. you quickly moved on to his legs and feet, relishing in the way he let himself relax around you, looking at him with utmost love and tenderness and seeing him reciprocate it. you put some on his hands as well, working out any tension and pressing a kiss to every knuckle.

once he was all lotioned up, you allowed him to do the same to you, scolding him when his hands started to wander with other intentions. you wrapped a towel around his waist and one around you as turned to the small cabinet next to his sink. (yes, his sink. you moved in with him after half a year. you stayed at his place most of the time anyways so he convinced you to end your lease and live with him and he never regretted it once.)

you hummed a little melody, picking out your nighttime skincare. his large hands settled on your hips as he looked over your shoulder to see a small selection of creams and serums on the counter. “what's all that?” he inquired, genuine curiosity shining through in his tired voice.

“it's my skincare for the night. i know you usually don't do this and i’m happy that i got you to wear sunscreen at least,” you mused, squirting some toner onto your hands and gently applying it to his face, making sure to massage the pressure points on his temple and jaw, tracing the scar on his cheek extra carefully. you remembered how, in the early stages of your relationship, he would turn his head in shame when you would try to touch that scar. oh, how time flies.

you went through the rest of the steps, smoothing out the deep wrinkle between his constantly furrowed brows, not forgetting the ears and neck and seeing how his eyes grew heavier and heavier. you did your own face right after as well. he finished it off with a soft kiss against his lips, his now softer hands finding yours.

“thank you, sweetheart. i think i get it now,” he murmured and pressed his lips against yours again. before it could escalate any further, you pushed against his chest, urging him to sit down on the little shower stool to dry his hair.

once you were done with the regimen (kishibe dried your hair as well, naturally), you told him to stay put while you rummaged through your drawer in the bedroom. you emerged a few minutes later in a soft silk pajama, holding a matching one for him. your heart skipped a beat at his laugh, knowing it was reserved for only you before he put it on, even giving you a little twirl. you felt warmth spreading in your chest, happy that you were the only one he trusted enough to be this carefree and silly with.

you both slipped under the covers, rain pattering against the window. snuggling against his chest, kishibe reached for the book on his nightstand, as well as his reading glasses. you've now reached his newly favorite part of nights with you.

before you, the books in his shelf would simply collect dust but now, he has made it a habit to read to you almost every night ever since that one evening. it helped him relax and you fell asleep to the sound of his soothing voice. he flipped the book open where the bookmark you gifted him had been placed the night before. adjusting his glasses, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“now, where were we?”

a/n: this was planned and written for io's flufftober event :3 thank you to @ambiguouslady42 @ryomance @goteique and @staraxiaa for beta-reading! tagging fellow kishibe enjoyers @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat and @gojoest <3

@houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network

© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.

[shroomaz]

"No One Else but You..." (Introduction)

A Future! RISE! Donatello x GN! Reader (Series)

A/N: This is a RISE! Take on the future story (Defeated Krang Route) and how I feel Donnie would act in the future. I personally...feel like he would be a good father, yet he has to get out of the way he acts as a genius and get in touch with his more emotional side...that's where you come in my dear reader. ENJOY!!! <3

WARNING: This is a story of You and Donnie coming together and co-parenting little softshell teetle tots. If you are not interested in babies that's completely fine- I'm much either LMAOOO-

He couldn't remember what life was like before.

It had been 20 years since the Krang were sent back to the prison dimension. And in those 20 years, the turtles have turned from teenagers...to adults.

It was such a change; especially for Donatello. The science behind time was never something Donnie could figure out. Time flew by so quickly- within a blink of an eye.

And thus, science still prospered.

It was something that he could look forward to in studies; more things to discover, more to understand...and that helped keep his mind occupied. This meant more projects of technological advancements and more body parts and upgrades for Shelldon.

It kept his mind off of...you. 

How is this? It all started the day you walked into his life...funny isn't it? The rooftop meeting; he never imagined would've give such bliss in memories as it did now.

Irony? The emotionally unavailable bad boy image twisting around and slowly becoming so attached to you throughout life the more he missed you.

He would often stay up doing all-nighters (like usual), trying to get his brain to think of other things...to no hope. Just going back to you.

It was nearly 17 years ago- 3 years after Krang was imprisoned...

......

...

"Donnie...?"

An 18-year-old Don was working on some upgrades to his battle shell, adding more limbs to his spider and sipping on flavorless juice. Blasting his jammy jams.

"DONNIE!" you had yelled out to Donnie to catch his attention.

"Hm?" Donnie had lifted his tech goggles and raised an eyebrow. "Oh- greetings Y/N! What brings you here to--hEy that's my chair!" Donnie gritted through his teeth as you laid your bum onto HIS chair...anyone else he would shove them out. However, this was you, he hated to admit it, but he had a soft spot for you.

You spun in it whilst laughing as he rolled his eyes and moved his things. "Oh come on Donnieeee...you know you are happy to see me." you had teased him with a little grin.

"Oh, on the contrary, dear Y/N, it is YOU who was missing me!" he gloated placing his hand on his chest with a smile. "Besides, it's been a while since you visited- What brings you to the Great Donatello today~?" more gloating...he loves to toot his own horn, doesn't he? It was cute.

"Can't I just come to see my partner anytime I want, hm? And-" Donnie turned back to you as he cheered.

"Victory! It seems that I am right...much like I concluded-"

"How else would you see me again." 

"....What...?" Donnie's features had dropped, as suddenly the once purple lights faded to black.

It was nothing but you... 

"What...where...? Y/N? What's going on?" Donnie had so many questions that needed answers, but were left unattended. You walked forward like you were reaching...but you turned and walked away, getting further and further.

"Y/N? No...No, no, no--Nonononono-NO- please don't leave me again- PLEASE!" Donnie called out as you continued into the darkness. The more he tried to rush to you, the more he felt like his limbs were being held back by gravity. The sound of an alarm blaring in the background getting louder.

You had looked back at him with a smile before he woke up again.

Gasping for air- and shooting up into a more proper sitting position.

He had fallen asleep at his desk again.

Looking around at his surroundings...feeling older and not like he did in his dream.

A dream...it was all a dream.

Donnie sighs as he places a hand over his face in a facepalm...and then there he felt it, the tears.

....He sighed as he rubbed his temples before looking over at one of his stations.

Standing, and stretching- he made his way to the table, and looked down at his project...his very high priority subject.

Smiling, almost full of pride.

Looking upon a specially-made incubator full of softshell eggs.

(END)

(I know this story doesn't explain a lot but its more like the prologue.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Protect and Serve (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Protect and Serve

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

GothCon is finally here! Will Y/n have a fun and fantastic time or will her lifelong dream be shattered by her past?

author's note:

The wait is over!!! For four long months I left my loves hanging, well no longer! Chaos is back in business and I give you another pivotal dream turned into a chapter. Buckle up loves. We’re nearing the end.

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

The dark gloomy skyline of Gotham was dramatically highlighted by a heavy downpour of rain. Longtime residents weren’t phased by the constant shower and Cindy was no different.  

She walked into a local restaurant, shaking out her umbrella before setting it into a cubby. This place would not have been her first choice, but Barbara insisted the menu was worth the long commute. Either way, Cindy pulled her gloves off as she reached the table. 

The young lady sitting in a decked-out wheelchair was too engrossed on her phone to notice the businesswoman waiting to be acknowledged. “Barbara.” Cindy’s long nails tapped twice on the table surface, finally getting the woman’s attention. 

She locked her phone and looked up, “Hey! You made it!”  

Cindy hummed and sat down opposite of Barbara. A waiter came over to place a drink order and offer an appetizer. 

With the order set, Cindy enlaced her fingers together. “Now, let’s get to the matter at hand. Wait, where’s Morgana?” She noticed there were four chairs at this table and two were empty.  

“She’s running a bit late, something about a high priority client requesting her last minute. Did you message Florence?” Barbara asked from across the table.  

Cindy rolled her light brown eyes and brushed off the question. Not like she cared that much for the loud beautician anyway. “She didn’t reply when I messaged her. I’m assuming she’s still giving us all the silent treatment. Whatever for.” 

Barbara however was more concerned. “Has anyone heard from her since the whole fiasco at Y/n’s?” 

It seemed like ages ago when barely two weeks had passed since your family dinner turned into a disaster.  

Florence stormed out of your apartment and effectively put the girls on silent treatment. A few days of no contact was normal after a misunderstanding like this, but Florence was being petty now. A mess was an understatement to describe it all, although it was the least of Cindy’s worries.  

“No, and I do not care about Florence and her attitude. My focus is on Y/n. My publishing partner hid his past sexual harassment charges from me and the board. I found him in my office with Y/n and...” 

“He did WHAT?!” Barbara half whispered screamed. Her green eyes were wider than the saucers on the table.  

Cindy sighed, “Y/n won’t talk about it, she just avoids the situation with the excuse of GothCon preparations being more important. That’s why I called you. I thought you would know more information being closer to her and all.”  

“I’m no help. These days..” Barbara looked at the rain running down the windows, “None of us are close with Y/n. It's like we barely know her at all.” 

Cindy arched an eyebrow at the ominous words. “Why does it feel like I’m out of the loop? Just because I work all the time doesn’t mean I’m not a part of the girl boss square circle!” 

It was Barbara’s turn to be confused. “Wait, she didn’t tell you? I assumed since you knew Y/n from Blüdhaven and all, that you knew already.” 

“Can you stop avoiding the fact and tell me?” 

“It’s not my place to say.” Barb wavered, but Cindy was quick to dispel the feeling. “How bad can it be?” She countered.  

Barbara winced and started typing in her notes app what she was too afraid to say aloud. Once she was done, she slid the device across the table for Cindy to read.  

Her face was a slab of stone as she read the horrors on the digital screen. Nothing could have prepared her for this.  

Cindy cleared her throat as she passed the phone back. She blinked up at the ceiling to conceal the tears that threatened to escape.  

“Everything makes sense now.” She fiddled with her earrings when the waiter arrived with appetizers and kind smiles.  

Nothing was said as they set plates and cutlery down onto the table. “Did anyone know about this?” Cindy hissed once they were out of earshot. 

“Uh no? We recently learned about it at Y/n’s dinner party. Flo sorta kinda kickstarted the panic attack that revealed it. Y/n’s parents told me, Morgana, Dick, and Bruce.” Barbara pushed her food around on the plate as silence fell over the table.  

Cindy was the one to break it.  

“I remember Y/n having some type of accident several months before she moved to Gotham. It halted her onboarding process, but she never mentioned anything about it afterwards. She just jumped right into writing and releasing books. She was like a machine, you know? I thought it was jitters of being a new author wanting to prove herself. I did not know about..”  

Cindy pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. “I’m her manager, I should have noticed that something was wrong!”  

Barbara couldn’t blame her Cindy for reacting in such a way.  

None of your friends noticed anything either. Your aversions, the incessant need for privacy. They were oblivious to it all. You only wanted peace and quiet and they hounded you relentlessly, treating you more like a child than a friend.  

Now was not the time to be moping around about the past. It was time to act before you spiraled into a hole no one would be able to dig you out of.  

You were already a trigger away from snapping.  

Cindy must’ve read Barb’s thoughts. “GothCon starts next week. I can only image how overwhelmed Y/n already is on top of preparations.” 

“So, what do we do?” Barbara asked.  

She didn’t want to add more unnecessary stress to your plate, but at this point, some friendly interference could help you in the long run. You could use an intervention, therapy even! Or was it the right thing to honor your wishes and let you suffer in silence?  

By the time the two women came to a decision, it was already too late to act.  

It was finally here. One of your lifelong goals as a writer.  

Gotham Con was an esteemed event for any content creator. One week filled with their work being celebrated and on display surrounded by likeminded individuals. You planned this event for months (honestly, years) and now the week before the huge event had arrived.  

With the constant online notifications from excited fans to organizers sending you confirmation emails and last-minute preparation checklists—you were quite literally, losing it. 

And Joker had a front row seat to the impending panic attack. You were neck deep in your computer, fingers typing away at the speed of sound, and you hardly took the time to eat or take any breaks in between prep work. 

Joker was reminded of the first week he invaded your life. You had the same mindset; nothing but work on the brain. Somehow you forgot a wanted fugitive was in your home then and ironically, now.  

He missed those days when it was just you and him cooped up indoors.  

No distractions. No drama.  

Today was the opposite. You were on a conference call with who knows who discussing something that went over his head. He could appreciate the entire event better after catching a glimpse of the behind-the-scenes effort needed to make it all happen.  

“No. No, I requested an hour presentation months ago..” You dug through a folder with papers until one held the info you needed. “Ma’am, I think I have higher priority over a completed web series. Let’s be real.” 

Joker sat back on the couch to watch his Bunny stand up for herself.  

He enjoyed your stubborn pouts when the person on the phone said something stupid. He treated the ordeal as if it were a blockbuster movie and not your carefully thought-out plans unraveling at the seams. He understood firsthand how it felt, however; you managed to always turn things around.  

You made arguing with someone on the phone entertaining, or rather J was just infatuated with you. He secretly loved when you were angry, just not at him.  

You were a pretty thing regardless of your mood.  

Times like this, Joker was reminded of just how lucky he was to have met you. How did he survive for so long without your light in his life? He didn’t, that’s how.  

He was still daydreaming when you ended the call and let out a deep spiritual sigh. You wanted to count to ten and scream at number four.  

Then you spotted your lover staring at you with that dopey look you had grown to love. You wished you could reciprocate that feeling. Hopefully Joker knew how much you cared about him without saying those magical three words.  

For now, you could give him an excuse for ruining his cuddle time.  

“Sorry, the event manager couldn't find my invoice and threatened to take me off the schedule—a week before the con! I feel like everything is going wrong for no reason.” you sighed.  

You groaned all way over to Joker’s lap where he yanked you down to restore your previous seat.  

The giant tv on the wall was muted with the picture still going. Neither of you could remember what y’all were watching before being interrupted.  

Joker could care less. You weren’t paying it any attention anyways and Joker was thankful since his most recent misdeed was currently being broadcasted on the breaking news.  

His goons were swift with their security reports. You had another episode at your publisher’s office and a certain Thomas J. Ford was the trigger. Joker didn’t need to know the details. In fact, all J knew was that you came home with dried tears on your face and way too quiet to be considered fine.  

He got you cleaned up, fed, and tucked into bed before he did what he did best.  

Create chaos.  

And now the news was airing the fool’s unfortunate ‘car crash’ that led to his death.  

Joker snorted. The fire would erase all the torture he inflicted on the man who dared to make his Goddess cry. Joker took pleasure hearing every cry of pain that Thomas created. He squealed like a pig the second Joker mentioned your name.  

‘I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear! I’m so sorry.’ 

It was too late for apologizes. Joker knew men like Thomas would not learn. Hurting and harassing women was just a pass time to them. Joker took it upon himself to prevent this from ever happening again to anyone. You’d been through enough already. Joker proved he could be your silent protector. He would always protect you. 

No amount of soap could remove the blood from his hands. He kissed the crown of your head while his tainted hands rubbed soothing shapes on your back.  

You were nodding off from all of J’s soft touches but a faint buzzing from your phone, roused you back awake.  

His eyes glanced at the device on the coffee table, “Leave it, Bun. It’s nothin.’” He should have known you wouldn’t listen to his orders. You never did.  

“It could be Delilah with the VIP passes.” 

“Who?” How did you memorize every person you spoke with? He lost count already.  

“It doesn’t matter who, lemme see.” You squirmed in his hold that only tightened the more you rebelled. He did not want you turning around and your gaze landing on the tv, so he made up excuses.  

“Aht aht. You promised to re-lax with meeeee. No phones, no plannin’ from either of us.” 

You were quick with the side eye, “You can’t go an hour without planning something.” His scarred face cracked in a genuine smile from being called out. His brain never shut off. Joker was scheming right now.  

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan?” 

All you did was roll your eyes.  

Joker moved slowly so you could feel his hands cup your face. “My Bunny’s been running like a chicken with her uhh.. head cuT off. I do have a plan if! you’re up for it.”  

“Here we go” you started but Joker silenced you with a playful boop to your nose. He really had to stop doing that. It made you jump every time.  

“Listennnn Bunny. You’ve been stressed lately, hm? So! I was thinK-ing.. I cash in on that err.. promise I made ya. You remember. The night ya neverrr forget?”  

He smiled at your bashful reaction. “Yeah, my pretty girl remembers. Why don’tcha leave all the planning to me and leT me spoil ya. Prett-Y please?” 

How could you deny J when he looked so irresistible? He forewent makeup today giving you a perfect view of the constellations of freckles that adorned his skin. Those vibrant eyes of his were like pools of emerald sucking you in. You could blindly trust this clown and that fact scared you tremendously. 

“F-Fine but nothing too crazy. I still have to work you know.”  

Joker made a funny noise while drumming his fingers down your back. “Mm, is flying ya out the state too crazy?”  

You knew he was being serious by how he avoided eye contact with you. He burst out laughing seeing your troubled expression. No doubt, you were remembering his terrifying flying skills. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding sweetheart.” He purred. He was lying right through his teeth and the both of you knew it. Joker never did things halfway. Over the top and meticulously planned was his signature. “Sheesh, you really are stressed.” He mumbled to himself.  

The steady downpour outside briefly caught his attention. Gotham City was saturated with rain and for once, Joker had no intention of wreaking havoc on the city. He wanted nothing more to stay indoors with his Light and pass the time together doing everything and nothing.  

The simple act of holding you and watching the rain hit the glass roof was enough to satisfy J.  

You called his name, hoping to regain his attention. And just like that, Joker’s intense green eyes were on you. “Do I have time to squeeze in a nap?” you shyly asked. That last business call really took a lot out of you and J took pity on the cute little yawns you tried to mask. 

“Duh! My Goddess can sleep for as loooong as she wants. I won’t move a muscle.”  

“Can you um...” your voice trailed off as your insecurities kicked in. Naturally, Joker noticed it.  

He leaned his head down to urge you to speak up. “What was that, doll?” J had an idea of what you wanted judging by your hooded eyes, but he wanted to hear you say it.  

A closed mouth would not get fed, or however the saying went.  

“Can you keep r-rubbing my back? I-It feels good.” You blurted out. This man had done far more intimate acts with your body but asking him to rub your back is what made you flustered?  

Quiet moments like this with J put a spotlight on his rare soft side. He was shockingly a great cuddler and he was always in tune with your needs. You couldn’t ask for a better partner.  

Wait. Partner?  

Your brain went into overdrive overthinking that one insignificant word. Partner. Is that how you viewed Joker? Did he feel the same?  

He was obvious to your thoughts, but he could tell you were doing some heavy thinking. You were biting your poor lip raw. You couldn’t help stressing yourself out.  

He chuckled while wordlessly obeying your request.  

Joker took a deep breath, before he began moving his hands up and down your back in shapes that only he could decipher. Joker ran like a furnace, not like you minded. Your apartment ran a little cold during rainy mornings. The benefits of living in an old penthouse you assumed. At least having J around saved on your heating bill.  

The steady beat of Joker’s heart was like a lullaby in your ear as you gradually fall asleep in his arms. There was no safer place in Gotham than here with him. You were dozing off in record time.  

Oh, the trust you gave never failed to surprise him.  

Despite your dark past, you opened up and let him see you. Laid bare, broken, and raw, he got to see it all. You let The Joker of all people, know you so intimately. It was the greatest honor.  

Joker wanted to give you the world in return. His sweet Light, who took on so much weight on your too little shoulders.  

You gave him permission to execute his plans, and his goons were on standby to make it happen. Joker put this off for way too long. He picked up his phone and quickly sent off a message.  

‘We’re a go.’ 

How you managed to sleep through the countless door slams and frequent bustling throughout your apartment was a testament to just how exhausted you were.  

Joker saw how much energy you were putting into the final preparations for GothCon but you were running yourself ragged doing so. You more than deserved a break. He planned to spoil you the night he drove you to Blüdhaven, yet outside interference ruined his plans.  

Tonight’s reattempt was nowhere near the elaborate affair Joker originally had planned, but it’ll do. He promised you that he would not go too crazy.  

He half listened.  

In the end, your afternoon nap morphed into an evening one and the smell of something divine inevitably lured you awake. Your hair was all over the place (what possessed you not to wear a bonnet?) and droll was most likely dried on your chin. It was a good idea to freshen up but that smell was just too irresistible to ignore. The penthouse was dark and so was the kitchen as you sat up.  

Your eyes were still adjusting but J was nowhere to be found. And he wouldn’t move a muscle, he said. “J?”  

Your voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings. You secretly hoped he didn’t leave to go out and terrorize the city.  

It wouldn’t be the first time he left you hanging without a goodbye. Regardless, you were hungry, and your stomach cried out, demanding that you find the source of the food you smelled.  

The rainstorm had stopped, giving the city a reprieve for the night. Your sunroom’s glass doors were wide open, and you could see the balcony’s string lights casting a glow from your vantage point on the living room couch. What was Joker up to? 

Without knowing the full picture, you knew your Prince of Crime was responsible.  

You toed on a pair of house slippers and shuffled towards the balcony where the sight wiped the last dregs of sleep away.  

“Tada!” Joker was standing in the middle of a picturesque romcom scene as proud as ever.  

Your eyes did not know where to look.  

Candles and the balcony’s string lights softened the gloomy Gotham City skyline in the background. Somehow Joker found a round dinner table and threw a crisp white tablecloth, more candles, and a vase of your favorite flowers on top of it.  

You knew Morgana’s work from anywhere.  

Her locally grown petals were scattered on the balcony, some being swept by the nighttime breeze. But the best part of all was Joker dressed in a cozy sweater and slacks. You never seen him look so... homey. He made you feel underdressed with your sleep tossed curls and frumpy sweats.  

By how Joker stared at you, what you wore was the least of his concerns. You just woke up and he thought you looked heavenly.  

“Do ya li-ke it, doll?” Joker walked over and wiped a tear from your cheek. You didn’t realize that you were crying. He didn’t mention it either.  

“Your uh, dinner is gettin’ cold. Here.” Joker took your hand and guided you over to the table with the ease of a gentleman.  

He let you sit and pushed you into the table with a low chuckle. You were speechless. Joker was a master organizer, but this looked like it should have taken a day to collaborate, not a couple of hours.  

"How did you do all of this? I took a nap, right? I didn’t oversleep and skip a day?”  

Joker smirked and lifted the metal covers off the plates. Your eyes widened at the steaming entrée that greeted you. Your stomach sang out in glee.  

“Mmh. I’d be hungry too if my owner didn’t. Eat. All. Day.” Joker sent you a sharp glare for your oversight. You were working too hard and forgotten to eat. Again.  

“Sorry.” you mumbled. Joker just rolled his eyes and gestured to the food. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up a fork and dug in, and immediately cooed at the burst of flavor.  

“Did you cook this?!”  

“What? Shocked a white boy can cook?” you almost spat out your food at Joker’s comment. He wasn’t bothered and stabbed a vegetable with his fork, inspecting it closely. “If you must know, I had some uhh... assistance.” He flung the veg over the balcony edge while you weren’t looking.  

You were too caught up in the moment to notice.  

“Yeah, I can tell you called Morgana for flowers.” You smiled at the flower spread surrounding you. He grunted, giving away the answer. You were happy with Joker’s growth. He was learning, slowly but surely, how to interact with others. He still hated people; he just tolerated them for your sake.  

It gave you the idea that he hired a chef. He surprised you that one time by cooking pancakes, but J said it himself, “at least I can feed myself without burning the apartment down." 

There was no way he could have pulled off this fancy dinner on his own. “I didn't know you could this good.” you said, poking around for answers.  

You did not need to know how many times Joker almost burned the food.  

The private chef that he hired offered to cook the meal and give Joker all the credit but that wouldn’t do. J wanted you to eat something that he made, that he provided for you. It was a primal instinct he wanted to act on.  

Joker just needed an expert to spot his work. The three hours and countless death threats to the chef were worth seeing your blinding smile with each bite you took.  

You didn’t seem to notice the too charred vegetables or the grainy sauce, maybe you did and ate it anyway. Joker was happy to see you clear your plate, and he loved watching your childlike excitement as he brought out dessert.  

“It's beautiful, J!” You almost didn’t want to eat the work of art.  

Now this he had to come clean about. “I uhhh..I didn’t make this. Gotta leave some things to ahh, ex-perTs.” 

You sank your spoon into the confit, smirking. “I know, J.” You knew your man didn’t have the patience to make such a confection.  

He eyed your tongue darting out to collect the sugar from your lips. He almost didn’t hear your question. Almost. 

“Aww, don’t worry about me doll. I can find something to do while you’re away. A robbery. A couple of murders. Messin’ with Bats..” 

“I’m serious Joker. I don’t want you moping around the apartment or out causing chaos while I’m at Con.” 

Joker had the right to look offended. “Me? I would never!” 

“Moping around or being a menace?” You challenged.  

J smiled into his bite of dessert. It was his turn to make you all hot and bothered. His moan of delight sounded too suggestive for a harmless dessert. Watching him lick his spoon clean felt like an X rated show. Joker and that devilish tongue of his...  

You cleared your throat. “W-Whatever, you better not get caught while I’m gone.” 

Joker hummed in the intimate air. “You ready for next week?” He regretted asking you the second you groaned and dropped your spoon.  

“Yes? No? Physically I am, but there’s so much I want to say and not enough time to say it in! What if my fans hate my presentation?” Your lower lip wobbled just thinking about it.  

The sight alone had Joker reacting to pacify it.  

“Bunny. No. They won’t hate it. Uhh, remember? I’m your biggest fan? and I would love anything you present. Aht aht. I mean it. They didn’t see how you ‘perfected’ that video a bajillion time and practiced your speech till ya voice went hoarse. I have. Sooooo, I mean it when I say, they’ll love iT. I’ll kill anyone who doesn’t.” He grumbled the last sentence, yet you heard the honesty in his voice.  

“You can’t go around murdering all my haters, J.” 

He arched an eyebrow in denial. “Who says I can’t?”  

Fair point. Not even you could stop Joker from a killing spree once he put his mind to it. Although you could try and compromise with the sadistic clown. “Promise me you won’t go awol?”  

The request went right over J’s head. “What-everrrrr ya say, Bun. Now! Who’s ready for a distraction?” He spotted your empty dessert bowl and wanted to skip to tonight’s main event. He was excited to see your reaction.  

You were curious when Joker helped you out of your seat, cut the lights—plunging the balcony into darkness before pulling you into his lap on the patio couch.  

The nearby Fashion District usually offered up ample lighting, however tonight, its glow was nonexistent. You didn’t like the sea of darkness surrounding you. Joker instantly noticed you tensing up.  

He kissed you on the cheek while pointing up at the night sky. “Watch.” He sent a quick text as you grew more confused.  

“Watch what? It’s pitch black out.” Then you heard it. The first of many canons going off until color invaded the sky. It was a beautiful display of controlled chaos.  

Fireworks in Gotham City.  

Your eyes widened as each shell became more and more elaborate. You couldn’t tell where they were being shot from, but the fact that Joker organized them was touching.  

You told him once in passing you missed the illegal firework shows back in Blüdhaven.  

They were a big deal in your neighborhood growing up. Everyone pitched in money to buy the banned goods. Living in a dense city made setting them off virtually impossible and the police cracked down on the annual tradition harder each year until it ended altogether. 

Joker ever so observant, must’ve planned to set off fireworks in Blüdhaven when the two of you visited. When he did things like this, you forgot all about the psychopathic murderer he truly was.  

A dud went off and you took that time to lean back and kiss Joker. “Thank you.”  

He pretended like it wasn’t a big deal and shrugged off your emotions bubbling up to the surface. You blinked back the happy tears and returned your gaze back to the colorful night sky.  

Joker circled his arms around you, pleased at a successful mission.  

He wanted you to view the fireworks in your childhood neighborhood all dolled up and pretty, but this was still a night you’ll never forget.  

His Goddess tucked safely in his arms, well fed, and happy. What more could he ask for? He’d never forget this either.  

The final fireworks seemed bigger than the sky itself.  

A technicolor canon went off in an extravagant explosion that you knew cost an arm and leg. Definitely imported. One flame diverted its course and set a building alit, but you didn’t see that. Your eyes were glued to the finale canon that went off like a war zone before ending with you and J’s initials inside a heart.  

You didn’t realize how quiet it was until the fireworks stopped. Gotham City was eerily quiet even for a weeknight.  

The smell of sulfur was still heavy in the air as you turned around to face J.  

“Joker that was...!” Your words died out as you locked eyes with your lover.  

All the malice he gave the world melted from his eyes and the remains was pure adoration fixated on you. He looked possessed. High. And his scarred lips spreading into a lop-sided smile didn’t help clear his innocence. 

“Have I told ya that before?” Joker mumbled. 

You didn’t know what he was on about. You silently shook your head in the negative.  

Joker’s smitten gaze hardened as he swallowed. You were shocked to see two extreme emotions alter his face so quickly, but you were patient to hear what this clown had to say. 

“Tell me what?” You caressed his cheek, feeling the scar tissue with your thumb until J grabbed your hand. He didn’t break eye contact as he kissed each of your fingers.  

“I.. I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I do you.”  

You knew Joker was serious. He didn’t stress a single word. He said the most romantic confession and brushed it off the second he realized you were frozen in shock.  

Joker knew you were healing and dropping love bombs wasn’t ideal—but he couldn’t help it! The phrase fell from his lips because it was the truth. He never felt this way before and if he didn’t say it aloud, he just might actually go insane.  

He didn’t expect you to respond. His heart was fine with your silence because the single tear running down your cheek told him you felt the same. 

For now, he could handle a little rejection even it wasn’t intentional. He stood with a flourish and offered you his hand to take.  

“Whaddya say I get my Light to bed? No more stressin’ ya got it? I want these next few days to be... re-lax-ing.”   

You would try, just to see Joker smiling the way he was right now— like all was right in the world, a world where his Light was the center axis.  

True to Joker’s word, he kept you stress free the days leading up to GothCon.  

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger. It was just like the first months with Joker hiding away in your apartment. Just the two of you against the world. You didn’t turn on the tv, Joker turned off his phone or rather, it was off when you were looking. He still had a criminal empire to run no matter how good his intentions were with his Bunny.  

He thanked you for being naïve as he finalized his own preparations for the fated GothCon behind your back. 

He would be busy as well. Everything had to go smoothly behind the scenes for your week to be successful. Which led him to the morning of. 

A sunny day in Gotham was coveted as good luck. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn but that didn’t stop Joker from knowing what time it was. Your phone almost woke you up with an alarm. Not an ideal way to start a, no doubt, stressful day.  

Joker had more pleasant ways to wake up his girl.  

You were already lying on your back, looking so innocent in your slumber. Joker almost felt bad for doing this. Almost.  

His sinister grin disappeared underneath the bedsheets until he arrived right where he needed to be. He slowly parted your thighs to reveal the goldmine between them. Joker licked his lips just thinking about the taste.  

There was a reason why he nicknamed you sugar. He didn’t waste any time diving into his dessert. 

You woke up with a jolt followed by a shudder running down your spine. The odd sensation wouldn’t go away until you felt pressure down there.... 

Despite it feeling absolutely amazing, your first instinct was to kick the offender away—that is, until worn calluses you knew from anywhere, rubbed soothing patterns on your warm skin to calm you down. In that same moment, you yanked the sheets back to reveal Joker’s wild bed head between your legs.  

Joker was caught red handed and he didn’t care.  

His green eyes were glazed over as he laved at your clit with a cheeky, “M’ning sweet thing. So sweet..”  

It was like your pleasure finally registered. You fisted the sheets with a choked moan as it hit you like a tidal wave.  

Joker’s encouraging groans sent little tremors throughout your cunt and he didn’t let you squirm away.  

His hands kneaded your hips like an avid baker, keeping you right where he wanted you. He knew where to squeeze, how to use his tongue, and exactly when to flick your clit just right to make you explode.  

Your poor bonnet slipped off with all the thrashing you were doing but Joker had you going through it. His venom green eyes pierced your soul as he sucked it right out of your body.  

Even when you grew sensitive and began to tap out, Joker shook his head, not letting go of his tasty morsel. He loved feeling your thighs suffocating him as another powerful orgasm washed over you. He wasn’t stopping. If he died, then so be it. 

“J, p-please..” you twitched when Joker licked your pussy like a lolly pop. You could already hear his stupid rhetoric jab, ‘how many licks does it take to get to the center?’ 

One, two... 

You couldn’t take anymore and shoved Joker’s head away but it was too late.  

Your third and final release got tangled up in your throat and it left your face all tingly as a result. Every inhale you took prolonged the throbbing inferno and if it were possible to see clearly, Joker’s face dripping with your juices would have really made you pass out.  

He sat up and sucked his fingers clean while watching you fight your way back to Earth.  

Your hand over your heart did a whole lotta nothing to calm it. 

Everything was times a hundred on the sensory scale. Joker just smirked and helped you down by lightly drawing on your exposed skin with his pinky finger.  

J knew you were back when you sank your nails into his hair. He needed to wash it if he had plans on going out. “What was that for?” You panted.  

As if he needed a reason to bless you with a good morning, Joker gasped in faux disbelief. “Uhh? Today’s the day! You ready to meet your a-bore-ring fans?”  

And just like that, your mood evaporated.  

You groaned straight into a pillow until Joker snatched it away with a sly grin. “Need n’other distraction?” He used his fingers to ‘walk’ up your hip. You were tempted. You still couldn’t feel your legs... 

But you refused to be afraid. “You can’t distract me forever, J.” You flung the covers back and wobbled onto your feet. “Easy there, doll.” Joker teased. 

You ignored his wheezing laughter to check on the outfit you set out the night before.  

You wanted to look your best to feel your best. Large crowds, screaming fans, and tight spaces; your poor social bar was going to be put to the test this week. Day one would set the mood for the entire event, and you wanted it to be perfect.  

There was no room for error when the event would be highly documented via live streams and other media. 

The colorful ensemble Joker helped pick out flowed through your fingers as you inspected for any possible spots. “I wish you could come with me.” you sighed and headed towards the bathroom. “Oh well.”  

Joker snorted when you disappeared into the bathroom to begin getting ready. He was already twelve steps ahead of you.  

You left Joker at the penthouse well before the sun started to rise. Today was a big day and there was no time to waste.  

You arrived at your designated booth to the sight of Cindy and her new assistant, Noah, bustling around. Noah was the first to spot you and his sweet sigh of relief made you laugh as you handed him coffee.  

“Bless you for this!” He downed the large cup in a matter of seconds. Sometimes Gen Z truly scared you.  

Your concerned gaze shifted to Cindy who was talking to two men, pointing to where you taped off a natural line for fans to queue. They nodded and started setting up the rope barriers.  

The last of your booth decor was being put into place while two helpers from Cindy’s office were arranging your books in a neat but approachable, display.  

The meet and greet photo booth was taking shape nearby and you loved how the art you commissioned a fan to create turned out. It was all coming together.  

All that was left was the people.  

An officiant walked by an hour later brandishing a bullhorn. “Doors open in fifteen! Please be at your designated areas in fifteen minutes. Thank you.”  

Cue your panic attack.  

Cindy spotted it and ran over. She pressed your face with blotting paper and offered you a water bottle. “Y/n.... deep breaths, okay? These are your loyal fans. You were born ready for this. Natural smiles, calm demeanor, and a steady hand. Repeat that.” 

“Repeat what?”  

She pinched her nose, sighing.  

Cindy wouldn’t be able to hover over you all morning; that was Noah’s job. The new intern would blend right in with the crowd’s demographic and offer you some moral support while Cindy took care of the networking aspect of things.  

You could use all the support you could get to survive to the afternoon presentation.  

Cindy was smart to schedule it later on in the day in an attempt to help build up some courage for you. It beat presenting bright and early like other seasoned GothCon headliners were doing.  

It was all too much to think about. Then you remembered Cindy patiently waiting for a response.  

“I’ll be fine.” You rehearsed your panic signals. Overwhelmed. I need a break. Abort. You could escape all by fiddling with your earrings or sharpie. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to those extremes.  

You waved Cindy away and sat up tall, right as the announcer came over the convention center speakers welcoming everyone to this year’s GothCon.  

Strangely enough, your face broke out into a genuine smile when curious, and ecstatic, fans started to pour into the building. Perhaps you would be fine after all.  

You were handing a special Braille edition to a young girl when you spotted the next person in line. “Will!” you waved at the twelve-year old and his group of friends.  

They were quite shocked when you stood up to hug William like a close friend.  

It wasn’t time for meet and greets and you knew the line of fans were giving the preteen a mean jealous glare. “You made it!!” You beamed.  

“Haha yeah.. Thanks for the scoring us the tickets btw. Your hands are healed!” Will clapped them, earning a laugh out of you.  

So much had happened in your life since meeting the little Brit. Joker cutting your hands seemed like the least of your worries.  

You held your silver sharpie like a wand. “Yes, all healed which means... do you really need another signed copy?”  

Will took offense. He held up his special edition copy as if it explained itself. It did. There was only a few thousand floating around due to the hand painted edges and embossed crest on the sleek hardcover. Another collaboration with a talented fan of yours at work.  

“Y/n, I’m hurt.” He didn’t have to call you out like that.  

“Okay, okay.. I’ll sign your special edition, geez.” You took your time swooping the letters of your name and emphasizing the swirls that lead to your drawn heart. You loved your Avant Garde signature. No one could replicate it.  

Will stood to the side as you signed his three friends copies and made light conversation.  

They asked how you knew Will so closely and you boosted the boy’s ego by telling them the truth. Not everyone got to have their favorite author show up at their doorstep for dinner.  

You hoped Will would overcome his social anxiety and flourish with his new friends. You saw so much of your younger self in him.  

You handed your book back to Will’s friend. “Oh, don’t forget to stay for my segment! It’s after the meet and greet block.”  

Noah cleared his throat as he walked by your booth, signaling you spent too much time with William and his friends. You winced and waved them off to greet the next fan in line.  

You didn’t understand why you were so nervous earlier.  

Interacting with your fans came naturally to you after the first few awkward minutes. Sure, you messed up a signature or two, no one cared as long as they got a signed copy.  

Once the autograph line diminished a bit, coordinators guided you over to the big photo shoot area you had set up.  

There the bulk of your nerves came out. Talking about your books and signing them was one thing, taking pictures was where you panicked. The constant flashing light did something to you mentally. 

Case in point, a pair of twins were spouting their theories about a fourth WHB book when they surprised you by taking out their personal cell phones.  

The prohibited flash caught you off guard and you jumped back, feeling an episode kicking in.  

Water rushed in your ears, and it made their concerned, ‘are you okay? sound miles away. Did you nod? Did you touch your earring? Who knows. You needed a minute and neither Noah or Cindy was around to rescue you.  

What if someone was filming and posted your panic attack on social media? Cindy’s PR team would murder you.. So many worries piled on and threatened to topple you over.  

You had to be seeing things.  

In your panic scan for an exit, your eyes caught the sight of green in the crowd. Like a light switch, your heartbeat calmed. The stacked noise of background conversations and music rushed back. You were above the water and steady on your feet.  

That slight glimpse grounded you.  

“Omg Y/n? Are you like, okay? I hope I didn’t offend you!” One of the twins said.  

You sent her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, the um.. flash must’ve—Hunter is very much alive. I can’t kill off the eye candy!”  

That got them both to squealing (and diverted the curious eyes away from you) and just like that, the next person was stepping up for their twenty minutes. You hugged and exchanged pleasantries, but your mind was elsewhere.  

You couldn’t shake the sight out of your head. Was Joker really in the crowd or were you seeing things? It wouldn’t be the first time you hallucinated him.  

“—and I’m so happy you’re so inclusive with your stories! I just love you!”  

This current fan was dressed in an elaborate cosplay from some manga you’ve seen once or twice. It was interesting to see how diverse people were with literature. Your novels were a far cry from comics, yet you still had a place here at GothCon.  

Mind blowing. And more so, the turnout you got was insane.  

Noah must’ve seen how you were struggling with this current fan.  

They stuck to character and spoke just like them, making understanding them a bit of a challenge. Noah stepped in with his own bubbly persona.  

“Hi! Love the cosplay girl, but I gotta wrap this up. Attention everyone! Please join us in 2A for our big surprise after lunch! Yes, Room 2A!” 

He grabbed your hand and whisked you away before you could utter a single goodbye.  

“Noah!” You weren’t upset, more like impressed. 

He ushered you into the designated staff area in no time. “I am not missing out on lunch. Cindy promised catering.” 

Both of you shared a look. “Of course she did.” 

How the businesswoman got piping hot food from your favorite restaurant in the rush and madness of GothCon, the world may never know.  

Your team actually sat down in an empty banquet room for lunch unlike other presenters. You saw one eating instant noodles in the staff hallway. It really paid to be organized.  

In between bites of food, you rehearsed your upcoming speech and did a mock presentation without too many stutters.  

“You’re overthinking it, Y/n. It’s perfect, I promise.” Lily, a content editor from Cindy’s Publisher house, spoke up. The team all nodded in agreement, but it wasn’t enough for you.  

Cindy set her fork down before adding in her two cents. “I agree, Y/n. Don’t shoot for perfection.” 

“Says the woman eating seared Halibut at a convention center.” You said with a groan. Your manager oozed perfection no matter the situation.  

Cindy ignored the low chuckles floating around the room. “Just be your fun quirky self and you’ll be fine.” 

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one expected to face thousands of people in person and even more who were logging on to stream the segment. You felt ready to puke, especially when an event coordinator popped in to get you prepped for the stage.  

It was showtime whether you were ready or not.  

Cindy was the only familiar face backstage with you as multiple stagehands ran around performing sound checks, lighting, giving cues to the current guest on stage, etc.  

It was chaos and you were smack in the middle of it.  

Why couldn’t this be done on a smaller stage? You quickly reminded yourself that you were considered big league now. People paid to gain admission to your stage slot. Lots of people that required a large banquet hall to hold, thus a big fancy stage.  

You handed off your USB to a technician who disappeared inside a back room. Giant screens and professional effects were at work here, but it went all over your head. You were a ball of nerves ready to explode.  

Cindy took pity on your fourth pacing circuit and stepped in your path.  

“Y/n, you can do this. How many times have we practiced in my office?” Cindy frowned when you continued to pace, not hearing a word she said. “I’ll fetch you some water.” She sighed.  

She really hoped the problems in your life didn’t ruin this once in a lifetime experience.  

The second she stepped away, a tall man dressed in security garb walked past dragging you behind a large tote stack of equipment and out of sight of everyone backstage.  

The cautionary hand over your mouth fell when he tugged his face mask down to show himself. There was no need; you recognized those eyes from anywhere.  

“Joker?!” you hissed quietly. Thank God you weren’t hallucinating earlier! 

He silenced you with a much-needed kiss. His hands were balmy cupping your face and you melted into the comfort J provided. You whined when he pulled away.  

“Not so loud, Bunny.” He glanced around the totes to see if anyone heard your slip of the tongue. 

The coast was clear for now. “I had to check on ya.” He wrapped you up in his arms and rocked you gently in that silly way of his. It drew a giggle from you, just as planned. “You’ll do great. I. Know. It. Hey. Look at me, mmh?”  

You looked up on command. “There’s my girl. Go out there and have fun mkay?” He encouraged you to nod with him.  

Both of you heard a stagehand calling your name—breaking the stolen moment you had with Joker.  

He grumbled but kissed you one final time before pushing you back into the hustle and bustle. The stagehand sighed in relief seeing you reappear. There was no time to look for a missing presenter.  

They handed you a mic and Cindy gave you a thumbs up as a vocal announcer welcomed you on stage.  

You could hear the audience all riled up and excited. Was it too late to make a run for it? Joker’s words were the fuel to help you skip onto the stage.  

Cindy clapped along like any proud manager would, but her eyes flickered over to the dimly lit corner from where you mysteriously emerged from.  

What were you doing back there?  

Now was not the time to wonder. The audience was chanting your name, and you bashfully stood in the spotlight, soaking up the attention. 

Just like we rehearsed. Go out there and have fun. You were born ready for this. 

Everyone’s words of encouragement pounded in your head. You exhaled and raised the mic to your lips.  

“Hey hi and hello! Thank you all for your attendance! Wow, that sounds so academic. Am I a professor now?” Your natural rambling earned you a collective chuckle from the crowd. These were your fans and fellow readers who loved you unconditionally. Why were you worried? 

You shook your head to reset the speech engrained in your head. “Anyhoooo. Let’s try that again. Hey hi and hello, welcome to GothCon!!”  

The crowd roared their greeting, feeding off of your sudden burst of energy.  

“Alright that’s more like it! We made it to GothCon loves and if you follow me on socials.... I promised a big, huuuuuge surprise. So! Let’s discuss our favorite handsome trio. The boys have been up to no good! I mean.. Bill might be dead!”  

You paused for dramatic effect as girls screamed like mad. You paced the stage, giggling into the mic. You were known for being a troll and your fans loved it. 

“And we cannot forget about Hunter finding the connection to our world. Who knows.. he might hunt down the reader who’s responsible for these senseless murders.” You looked directly into the main camera so the haters (mostly Harvey Dent) could get the message.  

Your books were works of fiction despite it being the reader’s fault the in-book characters kept dying.  

“Now I think all of you would love a fourth installment..” The audience held their breath knowing something big was coming. The suspense was growing just like you rehearsed. You were a romance/thriller author after all.  

Someone in the crowd grew impatient and cried out, “OMG, I’m gunna die!”  

“Please don’t.” You replied just as quickly. That earned you another collective laugh.  

“Okay, I trolled you guys and gals for too long! My publisher house is partnering with The Wayne Enterprises... yeah that Wayne, to give us all what we’ve been craving.”  

You cued for the video to begin. The banquet hall’s lighting dimmed as the giant screens started to play your promo.  

The screen was stark white until it came alive with your distinct handwriting filling the screen. You worked with special effects and the graphic’s team to make this possible.  

Your own hand wrote out, Will. Hunter. Bill: Official Script and the crowd went insane.  

A clip of you and Wayne Enterprises production team brainstorming played on as it cut to show bullet points of potential actors you had in mind, teasers of storylines, and other goodies. The video was one big promo to announce the obvious. Your book series was green lit for film.  

The announcement was an instant hit.  

You were too busy watching your fans go berserk that you almost didn’t see the screen begin to glitch. Finally hearing the track skip made you react in your typical comical flair.  

“Woah, technical difficulties in 2024? That’s wild. Can we get this troubleshooted backstage, please?”  

You turned to the crowd to apologize when you noticed the horror on one girl's face in the front row. “What’s wrong?” 

She pointed up at the screen. You turned back around to witness your worst nightmare unfolding. 

The glitch was far worse than you imagined. Your movie promo was gone and recent pictures of you and Joker out and about, all of them depicting a red x crossing out J’s face, covered the screens. There were so many...  

You and Joker at the grocery store. At an amusement park near the apartment. Leaving Euphoria that night in Atlanta. Walking around together in Martha’s Vineyard. Shopping at Tiffany’s...  

Every private moment you spent with Joker was on display for everyone to see. Thankfully, his face wasn’t shown but the bloody red covering it made it clear that someone wanted him gone.  

And you didn’t have to guess who was behind this hack. The last picture shown made your blood run cold.  

You could never forget that day.  

You could still feel the silk dress against your legs and the weight of the arm slung over your shoulders. The picture was taken the day your life changed forever. You sat at the VIP booth in Vincent’s restaurant cuddled up with his nephew, Tyler Bicchieri. 

Your past self was smiling wide at the camera while the monster hidden in plain sight had his eyes firmly on you. His knowing grin sickened you.  

Joker didn’t care about the consequences. He saw the video glitch out and instantly reacted. The same pictures that were delivered to the beach house (along with some new additions) were being aired out for the world to see. It was a mild warning before. Now it was a promise.  

Your ex had declared war.  

Joker pushed his way past the backstage crew and actual security trying to bring peace to the assembly. A voice announcer was reminding the guests to remain calm as they experienced technical difficulties.  

Technicians were trying to shut down the video with little success. It was pure madness. The only thing on Joker’s mind was getting to you.  

You were frozen on stage, too horrified to scream. Your eyes were glued to the message blinking on screen. 

Can’t hide forever honeydew. I’ll see you soon. 

Joker radioed for Frost and the others to have the car ready as he picked you up bridal style and fled the scene.  

[paithology]

𝙎𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙃, 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙋𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙄𝙏 ☆ ݁ ⋆

- Your average trip to the dentist.

Pairings: Doctor!toji x fem!reader

Content warnings: smut, oral, size kink, doctor au

Doctor!toji who told you you had perfect pearly white teeth although he had one concern, the bruising in the back of your throat. You never heard anything about bruising in the past. This was a new dentist after all, maybe he noticed things your previous doctors didn't. 

Doctor!toji who wanted to examine the bruises with a new technique of his, he was the doctor and knew best so you decided to give him your full trust. He assured you the procedure was painless and all you had to do was say “ahh” 

Doctor!toji Who was now palming his cock not breaking eye contact, pumping a few times. Horse groans, escaping his lips with each stroke. parting your lips with his thumb. 

“This isnt gonna take long is it?” you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“Not at all.” He reassured aligning his cock and your mouth

“Now be a good girl and open wide.” He said mimically  

Slightly opening your mouth, Before you could fully take all of him in. He forcefully shoves himself into you, instantly gaging, saliva escaping from your mouth, eyes widening with the sudden invasion.

Doctor!toji Who was now clenching his teeth and slightly biting his lower lip, In pleasure. His hips bucking into you as he pushed you further onto his cock. Making sure you took every inch of him. It was his duty as your dentist to feel every perimeter of your throat. 

Thinking about Doctor!toji with his cock twitching in your mouth, the aggressive stroke of his hips, and the pretty sound of his grunts. It was all too much, Nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

“So needy, always wanting something down your throat” he taunted as your eyes began to water as he hardly shoved you against him. Nose pressed against his pelvis, content with the ring of cum and saliva forming at the base of his cock.

Doctor!toji who couldn't make his diagnosis until your mouth was full of him. Loosening his grip on your hair after his final twitch before releasing his load into your now severely bruised throat. As he pulls out, you greet him with a pleading look in your eyes, mouth full of his cum. Earning a smile from him pleased with your appearance. 

Doctor!toji Who told you that he really couldn't be sure where the bruising was coming from. He insisted that the only way to make a clear diagnosis was to go through this same procedure each visit. You both knew exactly what the source of the bruising was. You were just happy to have such a concerned dentist. 

Work of : Paige, do not copy

[guilty-pleasures21]

The health checkup

Patient!Miguel x Doctor!Reader ?! I'm just crazy for shy Miguel, okay?! 😍

Warnings: manipulation for sex and explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

_______________________________________________

     “Dr O’Hara?” Miguel looked up at the sound of his name and the nurse gestured for him to head to the examination room. “The doctor is ready to see you now.” Miguel strode over to the door and knocked on it before entering. It was just his yearly checkup with his usual doctor - the older man he’d been seeing for years. But the doctor sitting in the chair when he walked in was neither old nor a man. 

     “Doctor O’Hara?” the unfamiliar doctor inquired, looking up from her computer to flash him a warm smile as she did so. She was really pretty: tumbling curls, almond-shaped eyes, rosy lips. Miguel cleared his throat suddenly, realising he’d been staring. 

     “Uh, it’s academic,” he elaborated, lowering his gaze as he took the empty seat beside her desk. “But … you’re not Dr Jefferson.” 

     “Good observation, Dr O’Hara,” the young doctor teased him. “Looks like your eyesight is all on point. Now let’s check your blood pressure.” He held his arm out so she could strap the monitor around it. Then she pressed the ‘start’ button before turning her attention back to him. 

     “I’m X, by the way,” she introduced herself finally. “I don’t know if Dr Jefferson told you before, but he’ll be retiring soon, so we’re starting to transfer his patients to other doctors.” 

     Right. Dr Jefferson had told him that, when Miguel had come in for a nasty cough a while back. But did that mean that this new, unnecessarily cute little doctor was going to be his regular from now on? “Oh, yeah. I’m Miguel.” 

     “Nice to meet you, Miguel.” She flashed him that pretty little smile again, then removed the monitor before pulling out her penlight. “So, Miguel, what are you a doctor in?” 

     He flinched a little as she shone the pen into his eyes, but she finished rather quickly before moving on to his ears. “Uh, genetics.” 

     “Ooh, fancy!” She sat back down in front of him and took hold of his chin and he opened his jaw to allow her a glimpse of the back of his throat. “I was thinking of specialising in that at one point.” She placed her penlight back into her pocket, then turned around to prepare the syringe and tube for taking a sample of his blood. 

     “But?” Miguel asked, the nervous fluttering of his stomach getting drowned out by his curiosity now. She shrugged, then turned back to him to clean the inside of his elbow.

     “I dunno. I quite liked looking after patients.” She tied a band around his upper arm, then tapped on his skin to find the vessel. “So I thought I’d stick to it.” Miguel felt a slight pinch as she stuck the needle in, but he kept his gaze fixed on her as she drew his blood. 

     “How old are you?” he inquired, his eyes narrowing in thought. She seemed pretty young to be working on her own already. Not that it made him doubt her abilities in any way! It just made him think that maybe she was really smart - another one of the boxes on his checklist ticked off. Not that he’d been counting or anything. Then, realising that the question might come across as offensive, he quickly added “if you don’t mind me asking!” 

     X removed the syringe and set the tube of blood down on the sampling tray. “Twenty-seven.” 

     His eyes widened in surprise: she was four years younger than him! He didn’t think doctors could start practising on their own until they were at least thirty or something. “Wow, that’s … pretty impressive.”

     X turned back around to face him and shot him a little wink that had his stomach flipping over. 

     “I’m a fast learner,” she joked. She reached into a drawer and took out a small tube, then she stood up and started pulling on some gloves. “Could you get on the bed, Miguel? I’ll be conducting your prostate exam now. It should only take a minute or two.” 

     Miguel felt his entire body heat up at her request - he’d completely forgotten about that part of the checkup! But how the hell was he supposed to let this pretty little doctor stick her fingers up his ass?! “Uh, right.” 

     Miguel walked over to the bed and started undoing his belt and zip, making sure to keep himself turned away from her. Dios, this was so awkward! Or maybe he was just making it awkward? She was a doctor, after all: she’d probably done this a hundred other times, with a hundred other men. He dropped his pants and underwear and climbed up onto the bed, waiting as she coated her fingers with the lube she’d taken out. 

     “I love it when a man knows how to listen,” X joked, placing her hands on his cheeks. Joder. How could she say that? How could she tease him like that when her slender fingers were gliding all over his skin and gently prodding around in his ass? F*ck. “Are you sexually active?” 

     “Uh, yes. But not recently!” Coño, why did he say that? And so quickly too, like he wanted her to know he was available or something? Available for what?! “I’ve just … been a little busy with work lately.” 

     “Hmm.” He was really cute, the way he kept shifting around and clearing his throat and sneaking nervous glances at her. And so hot too, with his dark hair and his sculpted features and his perfectly crafted physique. Shit. She was so glad Dr Jefferson had decided to retire. “What kind of work do you do?” 

     “Just research,” Miguel responded vaguely, too distracted by the feeling of her long fingers brushing against him to focus on anything else. Finally, she pulled away from him and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Bien, it was over. Now he could leave and request to be transferred to a different doctor - someone older and meaner who wouldn’t make him start getting hard every time they so much as smiled at him. Mierda, he was such an idiot. 

     “Feels good!” X informed him, taking a step back so he could push himself up off the bed. “Should we do a fertility check now?” 

     A what? Dr Jefferson had never suggested such a thing before. Miguel twisted his head back to look at her before posing the question. “A what?” 

     “A fertility check,” she repeated, already feeling her underwear starting to get damp at the thought of his cock. “Don’t tell me Dr Jefferson never did one for you.” 

     She said it so casually, like it was a normal part of the examination that he’d maybe missed out on. So maybe Dr Jefferson had just forgotten about it? 

     “Um, no.” He pulled his underwear back up over his waist and then turned around to face her. “What does it involve?” He glanced up at her briefly and felt the blood begin to redirect itself to his cock at the mischievous glint in her eyes. But it was a ‘fertility’ check - what else was he supposed to think it would involve?

     “Well, first,” X began, taking a slow step towards him. “I’m going to want to make sure that your testicles are all in order: no abnormal lumps or anything like that. Then I’m going to need a sample of your sperm.”

     She placed her hands on the bed - in the space between his legs, right in front of his rapidly hardening cock - and tilted her head as she gave him a challenging smirk. “Are you up for that, Dr O’Hara?” 

     He swallowed hard and shifted in position as he thought about it - as he tried to think about it, all his thoughts currently focused on if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. But coño, she was his p*nche doctor, for f*ck’s sake! How disrespectful of him to be having such thoughts about her! “Uh, if … if you think it’s necessary.”

     Shit, he was so cute! How could someone so hot be so nervous?! She straightened and tried not to let her lips stretch too wide as she lowered her gaze to his crotch. “Pants off, please.” 

     Miguel glanced away from her and cleared his throat as he slid his underwear back down. His eyes flickered back up to her when she didn’t do anything, and he felt his cock twitch when he saw the way she bit her lip at the sight of him. F*ck. 

     Wow. He was hard? Already? For her? X looked up to find him already looking at her, and he dropped his gaze quickly when their eyes met. She grinned and got down on her knees to pull his pants off entirely. 

     She was … a little enthusiastic in the way she ripped his pants off. But maybe she just wanted to get it over with? She was probably busy, after all, with a whole list of patients to get through today. And that was the last rational thought he could remember having, because then her hands were on his balls, her fingers stroking and kneading him so carefully, so gently. Miguel sucked in a breath and gripped onto the edges of the bed at the sensation and she looked up at him in question. 

     “Everything all right, doctor?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice as she said it. F*ck, this was so embarrassing! How could he be getting hard for his doctor while she was just trying to conduct a routine exam? Miguel didn’t trust himself to keep his voice steady if he spoke, so he settled for just nodding instead. X grinned and turned her attention back to his cock, the tip already red and swollen for her. 

     “Miguel …” she began slowly, licking her lips at the sight of his engorged cock - he was so big, she couldn’t even wrap her fingers all the way around him! Shit, he was hot! “Do you think I could … use my hands? Without the gloves, I mean. I could … get a better feel of things …” 

     She fluttered her eyelashes up at him pleadingly and f*ck, how could he resist her when she was looking up at him like that, her dark eyes all wide and pretty? He nodded again and she took off her gloves before returning her hands back to his cock. 

     Coño, it felt even better; having her smooth skin running over his cock and brushing along his length so delicately. She circled his slit with her thumb while she moved her other hand back to his balls and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop a groan from escaping his throat. 

     She wished he wasn’t so shy - she wanted to hear the satisfied groans and moans fall from his lips as she played with him. He just had such a nice voice, so deep and so gentle, and she’d have loved to hear him vocalise the pleasure he was deriving from having her hands all over him. Maybe she should try something else? 

     “Miguel,” X called to him, her gaze fixed on his cock as she stroked and squeezed him gently. “I’m … running out of lubricant. Do you mind if I …” 

     She looked up at him and licked her lips and he felt his heart start thudding in his chest at the hungry look in her eyes. ¡P*ta madre! How was it even possible for her to get any prettier?! Sitting there in between his legs, her delicate hands pumping his cock slowly, the tip just inches from her mouth. He knew exactly what she was asking him without her even having to finish the sentence. Miguel found himself nodding in agreement and X’s features lit up with delight. 

     She leaned forward and gave his tip a kitten lick - so light he barely felt it. Then she dragged her tongue harder against his slit and his entire body shuddered at the feeling. She snickered at his response, then swirled her tongue around his length, her head moving forward slowly so she could pull him into her mouth. And then he was inside of her, her mouth warm and wet around his cock, her tongue trailing along his length as she bobbed her head up and down. 

     “F*ck!” Miguel exclaimed, digging his fingers into the bed. X chuckled at his response, then pulled him deep into her mouth before giving a satisfied moan. Miguel shivered again as the vibrations of her voice danced along his length and then he let out a low groan. Coño, he wished he could reach out and grab her head, hold her in position while he f*cked that pretty little mouth of hers. Mierda, she felt good. 

     Holy shit! Holy shit, he sounded so good! And he felt amazing too, sitting there so obediently while she licked and sucked on his dick. She dragged her fingernails along his thighs and let out another moan before pushing her head forward, taking him all the way into her mouth and then swallowing around him. 

     “F**********ck!” Miguel’s head fell back in pleasure and he bit his lip as his cock began throbbing inside her mouth. Then she pulled her head back, dragging him out of her mouth before she sat back to look up at him. 

     “Miguel.” She swallowed hard at the sight of him, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his eyes glazed over with lust, and her stomach flipped. “I don’t … want to get anything on my clothes. Are you all right if I take them off? Just until I get the sample!” 

     She gave him an innocent look, blinking her curly lashes up at him as she waited for his response. But f*ck, he could see the mischief hovering on the edges of her expression, her rosy lips curling at the ends as she let her fingers go back to stroking and fisting his cock. Did he really feel that good? So good that she refused to let any part of her body lose contact with his? Or was she just trying to be a good doctor and get him to come so she could get a sample of his sperm? She ran her tongue across her lips, licking up the prec*m smeared all over them, and he felt his cock give another twitch at the sight. X grinned, delighted, and Miguel guessed that he must have nodded his head without even realising it. Because then she was standing in front of him, her pretty little body completely bare before him so that he could trail his eyes over her tanned skin and her perky tits and her perfectly curved waist. “Mierda.” 

     His cock jerked at the sight of her naked and X giggled before climbing up onto the bed and straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, bringing her mouth close to his. 

     “I’m still going to need that sample, Dr O’Hara,” she informed him, her voice low and seductive as she spoke. She tilted her head and he followed the movement, his lips chasing hers instinctively. She grinned at the dazed look on his face and pressed her lips to his gently, brushing them against his as she spoke. “Are you going to give it to me? Are you gonna … Are you gonna come for me, Miguel? Or am I gonna have to make you?” 

     He slid his hands along her sides as they kissed, groaning at the feeling of her tongue tangling with his - mierda, she tasted sweet - then he lowered his hands to her ass and dug his fingers into her soft flesh before tugging her even closer to him. “F*ck, you’re so soft. And so f*cking pretty.” 

     X chuckled against his lips as she continued to move her mouth against his, her hands sliding into his hair to tangle in the strands. “Prettier than Dr Jefferson?” 

     Miguel didn’t respond, choosing instead to move his hands around to her breasts as he continued to lick into her mouth. X gasped as he began to knead her breasts gently, then she felt her p*ssy start to leak again as he circled her nipples with his thumbs. 

     “Mmm, Miguel,” she squeaked into his mouth, her body beginning to contract as he stimulated her. She sank against his chest and he nipped at her lower lip before wrapping his arms around her waist and moving his lips to her neck. Her head fell back as he grazed his teeth along her throat, and she let out a whimper when he nibbled on her collarbone before kissing and licking his way back up to her jaw. “Miguel, do you … Do you want to take your shirt off? You seem … You seem to be running a little hot, Dr O’Hara.”  

     “Mmm,” Miguel moaned against her skin as he glided his hands up her back. He was too focused on how soft she felt in his arms to pay attention to what she was saying. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever.” 

     X let her hands drift down to the hem of his shirt as he continued to press open-mouth kisses to her neck and shoulder, then she pulled his shirt off. 

     “Shit,” she groaned, licking her lips at the sight of his broad chest and hard abdomen. She ran her hands along his glistening skin, appreciating the defined ridges of his muscles, then wrapped herself around him so that her breasts were pressing into his chest. “Mmm, Miguel.” 

     She started kissing him again, rolling her hips against his and delighting in how warm he felt against her, his bare skin sliding against her own. He gripped onto her ass and she giggled as he started moving her harder against him, her soaked p*ssy rubbing against his stiff cock. 

     “Miguel,” X began again, moving her lips to his neck so she could lick the sweat off of his skin. Shit, he tasted good. “Aren’t you gonna come for me, doctor? Aren’t you …” She let out another soft moan and Miguel squeezed her ass again in response. 

     “You want me to come for you?” he asked, slipping his hand in between their bodies to try to find his cock. “You want me to come for you, princesa? I’ll come for you, just … just let me …” He fumbled with his cock, trying to guide it into her hole as she continued to lick and nibble on his neck. Mierda, how was she so wet already? How could she be so aroused by him when he hadn’t even done anything - just sat there and listened to what she’d said? Was she just that attracted to him? Joder, that was hot. 

     “Mmm, you need some help, Miguel?” X asked, grinning when she felt him trying to slide himself into her. “You need to feel my p*ssy squeezing around this deliciously huge cock of yours before you let me get a taste of your c*m?” 

     “F************ck!” Miguel groaned, his head falling back in pleasure at her dirty words. How could she say that? How could his pretty little doctor just sit there and suck on his dick? And then climb up on top of him and tease him with her tight little body? F*ck, she was hot. X leaned forward and nipped at his jaw and he sighed at the feeling before returning his gaze to hers. She continued to fix him with that naughty grin as she curled her fingers around his cock and started sliding him into her.

He dug his fingers into her waist and kept his eyes locked on her face as she wriggled her hips, taking him deeper and deeper into her body. And then he was balls deep inside of her, her warm and wet p*ssy throbbing around his cock pleadingly, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt so good in his life. She reached up to brush her fingers along his cheek, and he clenched his jaw as her body contracted around him. 

     “Miguel!” she whimpered, her lips twisting into a sweet little pout that had him growling and thrusting himself into her insistently. 

     “Yes?” he asked her, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he kept them trained on her face. “Yes, doctor?” Carajo, she felt good, so soft and so f*cking tight around his dick. She gripped onto his shoulders as her body contorted with another contraction and he bit down on her shoulder as his abdomen began to tighten. X slid her fingers into his hair and continued whining and moaning as he kept pumping his cock in and out of her p*ssy. It drove him crazy, the little sounds she kept making, and it wasn’t long until he was coming inside of her, his warm and sticky c*m shooting into her cervix and painting her walls white. She shuddered at the feeling of him filling her up, and then she was coming too, her tight little p*ssy squeezing around his dick and milking him for all he was worth. He kept his arms around her and held her against him until she was done, then she straightened. 

     “Mmm, your flow rate seems good, Dr O’Hara,” she told him, smiling against his mouth as he pressed soft kisses to her lips. She slid her tongue into his mouth and swirled it around before pulling back and getting up off of him. Miguel shifted in position as she began picking her clothes off the floor, his body heating up in embarrassment at the sight of the c*m soaking his thighs. 

     “Uh, don’t you … don’t you need to take a sample?” he asked her, staunchly refusing to meet her gaze. X turned back to him and grinned when she saw him getting all shy again. She bent over and took hold of his cock, bringing her mouth centimetres away from it as she looked up at him. Then she parted her lips and dragged her tongue along his length before closing her mouth around him and licking him up. Miguel sucked in a breath and gripped onto the edge of the bed as she let out a satisfied moan. Finally, she released him with a wet ‘pop’ and stood up again, flashing him a naughty grin.

     “Tastes healthy,” she informed him, sliding her hand up his chest. She leaned forward to kiss him again, spreading the salty taste of him over to his mouth, then she nipped at his lower lip before pulling away from him. “That will be all for today, Dr O’Hara. Don’t forget to make a follow-up appointment with the nurse on the way out - we still have to discuss the results of your blood test.” 

     “Uh, right.” He swallowed hard at the thought of seeing her again; of having to come in and act like nothing had ever happened - like they hadn’t just had sex on her examination bed! But … he did want to see her again. Just … not like this. Miguel slipped his shirt and underwear back on, then fiddled with his belt before pulling his pants back up over his legs. “You know, I could … If you gave me your number, we could … we could always discuss my results over dinner … or something …” 

     He glanced at her from beneath his eyelashes and bit his lip as he waited for her response. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of him nervous before her - at him asking her out! - then she turned back to her desk and grabbed a piece of paper to scrawl her number on it. She swivelled back around to pass him the paper, but pulled her hand away before he could take it. 

     “Or,” she suggested instead, her mind working quickly to come up with a retort, “how about we discuss your results at that follow-up appointment, and then talk about something else at dinner?”

     She held the piece of paper out to him and his lips curled at the corners as he took it from her. “I’d like that, X.” 

     X’s smile stretched even wider at his response and she adjusted her shirt before heading back to her desk. “I’ll see you soon, Miguel!” 

     Before the week was up, if he had anything to say about it. He grinned and gave her a little salute before making his way to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Dr X.”

[8um8le]

Smol reminder

[grabby-smitten]

The real reason I choose Sylus as my favorite is because the N109 Zone doesn’t have sun. My retinol routine would be thriving and I would save on sunscreen. I already take vitamin D supplements so it’d be fine.

He would be so done when I don’t let him touch my face once the skincare is in place. I’ll tell him to wait a couple of hours so it absorbs well and then he can do whatever he wants.

*sylus as soon as the time is up*

[sipnoot]

hes my queer platonic wife btw

more stuff under cut

no effects that i almost kept it as bc i have no idea how to shade

eclipse shirt inspire by top left of this

I have superglue on my hand :3 | I will stab you with my rays.

silly lil continuation (text taken from this post)

was actually the inspiration to draw this. i attempted to draw it on the daycare pickup magma but it just wasnt working out so i gave up, ran to procreate, and changed the characters !!!!

[dockett]

All The Very Best of Us II Din Djarin x Reader

Born to Beg For You: non-linear one shots. The Mandalorian helps a slave.

Summary: You take some initiative.

Warnings: minors dni, 18+ only! Smut!! Oral/fingering (f! Receiving), unprotected p in v.

Word count: 2.6k

Hello my friends! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come out with another post, but here you are! This takes place after Everything I Love! Hope you all enjoy!

You fidgeted, nervous as you pulled at the bra you were wearing. You watched your reflection as you listened to Djarin move about the ship. You sighed, looking over yourself. The lingerie was a deep red, crimson as blood, and it hugged your body in all the right ways. You felt… pretty. A rarity. 

Would he think the same? 

You pushed away the immediate thought of rejection that followed, your brain conjuring the image of the Mandalorian refusing you—dismissing you even. Shaking your head, you tried to focus on the facts: he allowed you to sleep in his bunk now—encouraged it, even. You had learned in your time with him that his primary love language was physical affection, his arms always wrapped around you at night, his hands always finding a place at the small of your back during the day. You had danced around your affection for each other, never verbalizing it.

He had told you weeks before that he had wanted you, but he wanted to take it slow. You hesitated again. Would this be pushing the boundary he had wanted to hold with you? You finally met your eyes in the mirror, and you heard him make his way into the cockpit, no doubt doing his final check over everything before getting settled to rest with you. 

You nodded to yourself as you came to a conclusion, you would try, and if he wasn't ready, it didn't mean he wouldn't eventually be. Before you could second guess yourself, you opened the fresher door and made your way to his bunk. 

You sat down on the bed to wait for him and you felt the seconds tick by, slow and agonizing. 

When you heard his footsteps, you leaned back, staring at the door. He knocked once, asking, “Can I come in?” 

“Yes,” you called, bracing yourself. 

The door slid open and he stepped once before stopping completely. His helmet was focused on you, visor gleaming in the low light. He didn't move or speak, making no indication of what was on his mind. You glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“I… I hope that this is okay,” you mumbled. “I was—well, I am—nervous.” 

He shook his head after a beat, stepping fully into the small space and closing the door behind him. You swallowed, bare feet rubbing against each other in anxiousness. He took another step, and lifted his arms, slowly reaching to discard his gloves. You held your breath as his golden skin came into view. His hands reached for you as he got closer, fingers wrapping around your ankles and pulling your feet apart. 

A shudder ripped through your body as he finally spoke. “This is more than okay.” His voice dripped with desire and a feverish heat ravaged through your body, lighting your skin on fire. “Do you think you can do this to me and get away with it, mesh’la? Maker, you're tempting me.” 

He knelt down onto the bed, his hands now tracing up your thighs. You breathed harder, head tilted down as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. 

“Tempting you?” You asked coyly. “I'm not doing anything.”

He hummed. His hand gripped your hip as the other came to your cheek, cradling it in a gentle hold. His thumb brushed over your lip. You knew he was staring at them from under that visor. You were seized with an idea, and slowly, you took his thumb into your mouth and without looking away, you sucked. 

His hand tightened its hold on your side and his chest heaved. You smiled, delighted by the effect you had on him and released his thumb with a loud ‘pop!’

“Senaar…” he groaned. Your thighs trembled and wetness pooled between them. 

“I want you,” you told him, moving to kiss the palm of his hand. You had wanted him for a long, long time. His body pulled away, and you frowned, reaching to keep him close, but he was too fast for you.

Panic ensued, and you felt that maybe you shouldn't have said what you said. The room was plunged into darkness a second later as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

“Need to taste you,” he growled, stepping back towards you. Then, you heard the sound of metal being set down. A harsh realization struck you. He was taking off his armor.

“Stop,” you said. All movement halted. It was impossible to see anything with the lights off. “Are… are you sure?” 

A pause before you heard, “I am.”

“Wouldn't that be—”

“It's fine, mesh'la.”

You hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

Nervousness tingled in your stomach and he told you to take off your bralette. More soft clinking sounds echoed through the room, and then the unfamiliar hiss of his helmet being detached. The bed dipped with his weight, his hands reaching and finding your legs in the dark after you had discarded the lingerie. You startled when you felt his lips, and the faintest scratch of facial hair, along your calf. 

His hands trailed up the tops of your thighs, fingers curling around your underwear before sliding the pair off and down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. He kissed up your leg, and you shuddered. Was this even real? Was Din Djarin really between your legs, helmet forgotten, or was this another dream?

He meandered, taking his time with you. When his breath coiled over your pubic mound your hips bucked. He chuckled, the sound almost foreign without the modulator in the way. Your breath hitched in your throat as his arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you down firmly in place. 

You whined, shivering as he kissed the junction of your pelvis and thigh. You could feel his smile against your skin. Maker, his smile. You trembled again, gasping out, “Don't tease me.” 

“Getting impatient?” He said back, tone light. Your thighs threatened to slam close around his head, his voice shaking you to your core. He laughed again, and then leaned in closer. “I've been waiting to taste you, senaar. Teach me.”

Your hands reached for him then, your skin on fire from his breath. Fingers pushed into his hair—curls—and pulled him closer to you. His tongue tentatively licked up through your folds and your back arched off the bed. You'd been waiting, too, you realized. You'd wanted this for a long time.

A soft hum came from the man and then without hesitation as you tugged on his hair, he ate you out like he was starving for it. Maybe he was. 

His right arm moved, releasing your thigh as he brought his fingers to your pussy, dipping a digit into your entrance. He licked small circles around your clit, an action that had you seeing stars. Your hand tightened its grip, and your moans increased in pitch. 

You could feel it rising within you, your orgasm threatening to break you with its growing intensity. He listened to every change in tone, every jerk of your body, repeating his patterns and inserting another finger. He curled them inside of you. Your body arched off the bed again. “Djarin!” 

“Again,” he growled. “Say it again.”

You did so, repeating his name like a prayer until you couldn't even think of anything else. All that was in that moment was him, his hips grinding into the bed in time with the thrusts of his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit, his breath insanely hot against you. It was all too much. 

“Yes, yes! Right there!” 

“I want you to cum on my fingers, mesh’la. Want to taste—” 

Your thighs abruptly slammed closed around his head as your climax ripped through you, exploding inside your abdomen, causing your body to tighten over and over again as you shook. Liquid fire filled your veins and you felt like you couldn't get enough air into your lungs. You groaned his name as he worked you through it, pace slowing but not stopping. You could hear him talking, little words in Mando’a—mesh'la, kandosii’la, ner riduur. 

You didn't know what the words meant, but you craved them all the same. You scrambled to try and get away from him as the attention became too much, hissing through your teeth. 

“Nayc, mesh'la,” he asserted. “I'm not done.” 

You shivered as his arm grew tighter around you, holding you down. His fingers curled inside of you. Your body jerked in response, a high pitched whine dripping from your lips. Everything you could feel and hear in the dark was him, and Maker you wanted this to be how it was every night.

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest that had you reeling. You had said the last part out loud. Your face burned. He licked a broad stripe over your folds and your insecurities were pushed away and out of your brain.

“Din, please,” you mumbled as your head lulled to the side. Another swipe of his tongue had you shaking, hips jerking against his hold. 

“Please? What do you want?” He asked as the hand you had in his hair slid down to caress his cheek. Din leaned into your touch. 

You swallowed, relaxing back into the bed. “I want you inside me.”

His head pulled away and you twitched when his lips pressed against your stomach. Climbing his way up to your chest, he kissed you every inch of the way and you reveled in the feeling of his powerful body sliding against you, of his lips on your skin. 

The Mandalorian’s mouth was hot on your nipple when he licked over it, his teeth experimental as they grazed over your breast. Your body arched into him and he eagerly began to suck on your nipples. Soft sounds escaped from your mouth, which seemed to encourage his tenacity. 

His mouth, after satisfied with both nipples, began to trail up to your neck, where he kissed up and across your jaw. You turned to meet him, your lips locking together in a surprisingly chaste kiss. He exhaled loudly and pulled back when you brushed your hips against the hard bulge of his flight suit. Your hand fell to his shoulder, the other entwining in his hair. 

“Will you fuck me, Din? Please?” You whispered into his ear. 

All Djarin could do was nod before pulling away completely. 

You heard a shuffle as he took off the last layer of clothing he had on. When he came back down and reached for you, you grabbed onto him and rolled you both over, until you were on top, legs straddling his hips. 

His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, where he gripped them firmly. You shuddered at the feeling of his hard cock pushing up against your core, and you rocked your hips against him. He huffed, his fingers tightening on your flesh. You repeated your movements, filled with delight and excitement when you heard him groan. 

“Mesh’la,” he gasped. “Please… want to be—”

You listened as he cut himself off with a gasp as you reached down, wrapping your hand around him and pumping several times. You continued to hold him against your folds, covering him in wetness. Din breathed hard, his body shaking under yours. When you were ready, you slid him inside of you. 

His whole body jerked under you as he hissed through his teeth. You let out a growl of satisfaction, feeling his hard and delicious length fill you up in every way you wanted. His grip was sure to bruise as he panted beneath you. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you tested the waters by shifting your hips slowly. 

Your hands tightened on him in return when you heard Din whine. You couldn't help your bodily reaction as your thighs squeezed his hips a little tighter. You were making him, the mighty Mandalorian, into nothing but a whimpering mess beneath you. Fire lit inside you, burning through your veins, and you leaned down, moving one of your hands up to his jaw, where you tilted his head up. You brushed over his lip with your thumb in the dark before you brought your lips to his. 

You rolled your hips, drinking down the sounds he gave to you with each rise and fall of your body. Your lips moved together as his hands moved and brushed up to your hips. He gave a gentle push and pull, diligently keeping time to your rhythm. You pulled away from the intimate kiss, before peppering kisses down his jaw and neck to his collarbone. You pulled yourself up and began to set a harder pace.

Djarin’s moan then was a deep and gravelly growl, his hands pushed you harder as he brought his own hips up, slamming into you unexpectedly. You pitched forward as his arms came up, wrapping around you and holding you tight to him. His mouth found your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses over your skin. Your body jerked against him, a gasp dripping from your lips as he started to fuck you. 

He moaned softly against your skin, “So… tight… senaar.”

Your body tightened as his voice, thick with the fog of pleasure, washed over you. You quickly began to grind your hips down, meeting him thrust for thrust. His mouth came up the side of your neck until he found your earlobe. He gripped it gently with his teeth before tugging on it, which caused your body to jerk. You quickly became overwhelmed, trying to focus on shifting your body to keep up while he distracted you with his teeth and lips. He continued to breathe hard against you. 

Placing your hands on either side of him, you pushed against his grip. His arms fell away, and his pace slowed, letting you take back the control. You felt elated and ravenous, beginning to bounce up and down, hearing the slap of your skin against his. His name dripped from your lips and he jerked up in response. 

You could feel it rising within you, an impending orgasm being pulled from deep within your stomach. Your body began to tense, fluttering around his cock as your eyebrows furrowed. You moaned, loud and uncontrolled, as he shifted up against you once more. His hand reached up, moving to grab onto your breast as he sat up. He found your nipple with his mouth, sucking it eagerly, and then you were lost in the darkness. 

Your eyes slammed closed, brightly colored dots dancing in your vision. You felt yourself shake against him, your body twitching and jerking with each wave of your release. Din stilled, gasping and pressing you down onto him to prevent you from moving further. 

“Where can—senaar’ika—I can't—”

Through the trance of pure pleasure, you could see him holding back, waiting for you as best as he could, wanting to please you. You rocked your body forward and back, signaling to him as best you could without words. You felt too overwhelmed to speak. Within seconds, he was pushing in and out of you, your thighs a twitching mess, before burying himself as deep as he could. A strangled grunt dropped from his lips, a strained whimper of your name, and then he was twitching inside of you. 

You practically collapsed, body falling against his. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you off of his cock while keeping you pressed close to him. You both breathed hard in the dark and suddenly you felt like crying. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this safe. 

“Rest, cyar’ika,” he said to you, his breathing finally calmed. “I will be here when you wake.” 

You immediately felt comforted, curling even closer to him, and soon your eyes were closed, and you were drifting into sleep. You felt him settle down beneath you, both of you enveloped in the darkness, and basking in the presence of each other until you couldn't think anymore.