#spent fucking days on these my god anyway *throws them at you* the birds are happy for once lets go

[i-would-get-in-the-water-naked]

Athena character design and headcanons

the quality is shit I know, I'm sorry :((

(ART BY ME)

istg if Tumblr fucks up again I will throw my PC out of the window.

anyway.

Headcanons

She's an outsider among the other Gods. They tend to underestimate her, sometimes even humiliate her, especially the men - because she's strong, smart, beautiful, and a woman. They feel like she threatens their status.

Ares is her younger brother (they're just a few years apart, which doesn't really matter now that they're adults because Gods age differently and slower than humans). They cannot stand each other. Ares hates the fact that one of Athena's purposes is being responsible for the fairness of wars - because he feels controlled by her.

Speaking of which, Ares often annoys her in any way he can think of. Athena hates that and it often ends up in her beating Ares' ass.

One more thing about Athena and Ares' relationship: they actually care about each other very much but won't admit it to anyone - not even themselves. They might piss each other off, but they'd never EVER hurt each other. They fight a lot but they make sure blood never gets involved.

The only person who has ever shown her any open support was Poseidon. They spent a lot of time together when Athena was young, he trained her in the skill of fighting, which is one of the reasons she's so good at it.

In the modern-day world, you could say she most definitely is on the autism spectrum. She doesn't understand emotion, hers, or others. The concept of love - both romantic and physical - just doesn't make sense to her (mostly because nobody has ever shown her any).

She probably thinks she's aroace in the way "I don't need love or sex" but if someone hugged her and told her they love her, she would either giggle and kick her feet or cry. Depends on the situation.

She hardly ever cries. She bottles up her emotions because she has always been told nobody cared. She overall is very calm and collected until something or someone hurts her pride and/or ego - which she uses as a defense mechanism because she figured that others don't like her because she's better than them.

She has white owl-like wings which she keeps hidden with a spell inside of the two scars she has on her back - she got the wings in a very painful process and they are very sensitive. She can also turn into an owl and she sometimes does it just to avoid talking to people.

Oh, and she LOVES birds. Like. In her chamber in the Olympus palace, she has a whole collection of sketchbooks which she used to draw birds into when she was little. Whenever she finds out any fact about one of the birds she has drawn, she finds the page it's on and writes the fact down next to it.

She's probably panromantic? But she has never gotten the opportunity to find out (and me neither so I don't have any idea what sexuality to give her).

[blizzardz]

lovebirds

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART TWO

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

AN: I am so fuckin soft for college Kook you wouldn’t even belieeeeeve

Within days of their ‘truce’, Jungkook realises what a huge dickhead he truly is for not remembering Y/N’s name.

She shares his timetable almost entirely.

“I’m the worst.” He bemoans after a particularly stressful lecture on American poetry, “You weren’t kidding when you said you were in all my classes.”

“Almost all your classes.” She laughs a little at the look on his face and shrugs, “I did tell you.”

“It makes perfect sense now why you hate me.”

Y/N nudges him playfully and shakes her head, “I don’t hate you.” “Yes you do.”  He sniffles dramatically, “And you should.  I’m an asshole.”

She pulls a face, “Now what am I meant to do here?  Tell you that you’re not an asshole?  That would be lying.” Jungkook reaches for his heart theatrically and frowns.

“I deserve that.”

She scoffs playfully, “Shut up, Jungkook.”

It’s been exactly four days since Jungkook and Y/N began to hatch their plan to try and get their respective soulmates to fall in love with them.

And though Y/N’s original idea was to host some kind of movie night at her apartment Jungkook has been slowly persuading her into throwing a full blown party.  Park Jimin is an absolute animal, Jungkook promises her (that’s a huge stretch, but what college student doesn’t like alcohol and loud music?) and throwing a party is a surefire way to get him to agree to coming. 

But Y/N isn’t so easily swayed.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” Jungkook tells her confidently, “I’m going to make sure that you and Jimin get together, and then when you have beautiful babies together you’ll be thanking me.  And we’ll forget all about the incredibly unfortunate way we met each other.” Y/N’s smile is soft, but Jungkook sees it.

“I know you will,” She says, “I have faith in your matchmaking abilities, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Which reminds me….Did you think about what I said, Y/N?”  

Jungkook has to admit - he really likes having her around.  Try as he might at first to have seen the worst in her, he has to admit Y/N’s not half bad. 

“About the party?” 

He winks, “Bingo!” 

“It’s a bad idea.”

“Oh my god-” 

“No, because I’m such a wallflower,” She insists, shaking her head firmly, “Jimin will just think I’m boring.”

“I’ll help you come out of your shell.  I’ve told you that already.  It will be like a life lesson for you - a chance to shine in the spotlight.” 

“I don’t shine,” Y/N is whining now, “It’s stupid to even try.”

“No it’s not,” Jungkook insists, “Everybody shines.  In their  own way.  Everybody.” He feels kind of awful for her. 

How can she even think that way about herself?

“You don’t - it’s not.  C’mon Jungkook I can’t-”

“What about the night we met?”  Jungkook interrupts, as the two round the corner of Jungkook’s street, “You were partying then, weren’t you?  You were shining then?” She flushes, “That’s different.”

“How?” She shuts her eyes for a moment.  Jungkook worries he might have pushed her too far.  He slips his bottom lip between his teeth and just as he opens his mouth to apologise she sighs heavily.

“It’s stupid.”

He brushes a hand over her shoulder, “It’s not.”

Her eyes open and he’s taken aback by the softness there. 

He wants to reach out and maybe pat her cheek but he decides against it.  Fuckboy or not, Jungkook is not the kind of guy to do that.  Is he?  No.  He isn’t.

Besides.  Soomi.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’ll throw the damn party.  But you’re helping me with everything, okay?”

Jungkook feels something like electricity shoot up his ass.  (He won’t ever tell anyone else he thought that.) 

“Yes!  This is going to be perfect Y/N I swear.  Jimin will love it.  So will you,” He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, “It’s the last day of semester in three weeks time.  We’ll use that as a reason okay?  And we’ll plan everything together.  It will be amazing.” Y/N’s eyes dart across Jungkook’s face nervously. 

She seems to be looking for something - what he’s not sure - but after a moment she nods.

“Fine.  Okay.  End of semester,”  Her lips fall into a small smile, “Do you think this will work?”

They stop at the entrance of Jungkook’s building.

“It’s perfect Y/N.  I swear.  Just perfect.”

When her smile widens Jungkook thinks he’s never seen her look better.

“I’m trusting you Jungkook.”  She narrows her eyes playfully, “Don��t fuck it up.”

He crosses his index finger across his chest and nods determinedly.

“Trust me, Y/N.  We’ll have Park Jimin eating out of your hand before you know it.”

And he really believes it, too.

//

The next day Jungkook runs into Y/N at lunchtime.  He hasn’t seen her in any of his classes today and when he texts her to tell her this, she reminds him that Friday is the only day they don’t share a timetable.

He has to admit he’s kind of bummed.  

So when he finds himself wandering into the campus garden with Hoseok trailing less than enthusiastically behind him, his eyes zero in on her immediately.

She’s eating some kind of burrito - probably extra spicy as she’s told him that’s the only way to eat Mexican food - and reading a book.  Of course she’s reading a book.

Nerd.

“Hey Hobi let’s go sit over there.”  He points her out to his friend and Hoseok raises a brow.

“Who’s that?” “Y/N.”

“Y/N?”  His brow raises even higher if possible, “Y/N as in the girl you slept with who’s name you can’t remember and who’s roommate you are in love with?  And who you’ve promised to help set up with Park Jimin?  That Y/N.” Jungkook frowns, “Well when you say it like that…” He rolls his eyes, “Shut up.  Let’s just go.” Hoseok shrugs and follows his friend - what good will it do him to argue anyway? - and when Jungkook reaches his destination he clears his throat noisily.  Y/N looks up and Jungkook notices she’s wearing a pair of thick-framed glasses.  He has to admit… She looks kind of adorable in them.

The moment recognition dawns on her face, Y/N’s lips lift.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s smile widens when she grins up at him.

“Hi.”  She shifts slightly, “What are you uh - doing here?” “Stalking you obviously,” Jungkook takes a seat beside her on the blanket she’s set up to eat on, and gestures for Hoseok to do the same, “This is my friend Hoseok.  The one I said dances with your boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose and flushes, “Jungkook!  He’s not my boyfriend.”  She turns to Hoseok and smiles softly, “Hi.” 

Hoseok - to his credit - doesn’t seem to mind the Jimin comment.  He smiles back at her.

“Hi Y/N.”

Jungkook unwraps the dismal lunch he’s made himself - a sweetcorn and tuna salad - and gestures to the book sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“What’s that?”

She looks down and then up, “Oh.  It’s uh - god.  It’s stupid.” Jungkook quirks a brow, “C’mon tell me.  What is it.” She hesitates for a second and then rolls her eyes, seemingly accepting her fate.

Jungkook almost wants to remind her that they’re friends - she shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of him - but he stays quiet. 

She lifts the book to show him the cover.

“It’s a book on gaining confidence.”  Her shoulders shrug, “I thought it might help.  Y’know…�� With the whole…” Her eyes flit over to Hoseok briefly, “Jimin thing.”

Hoseok chuckles and it catches Jungkook off guard.

He’d almost forgotten his friend was there.

“That’s adorable,” Hoseok comments, “Man if a girl did that for me I’d be beyond flattered.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head, “No - I mean.  I don’t know.  It’s not just for him…”

“Still.” She bites her bottom lip and shrugs, “I mean I guess.  Yeah.  He should be flattered.” Hoseok laughs again and Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion his friend might be flirting.

He doesn’t like that.

Y/N is not for Hoseok.  Not at all.

“Well she’s not reading the book for you,” Jungkook tells him, trying to control his anger, “She’s reading it for Jimin.” Hoseok raises a brow.  He takes a moment and then smiles again.

“I gathered.”

Jungkook spends the rest of the lunch break trying to stop whatever weird energy Hoseok and Y/N have going on.

There is absolutely no way in hell that Jung Hoseok thinks he can just swoop in and ruin all his plans, right?  Y/N needs to fall in love with Jimin. Park Jimin needs to be the one laughing with her and smiling at her and flirting with her.

He’s absolutely livid by the time Y/N scurries off to class.

“What the fuck was that?” Hoseok pulls a face, “What?”

“That.  That… Flirting.  What was that?”  Jungkook has barely even touched his lunch (and it’s got nothing to do with the absolute miserable state of it, he swears.) 

Hoseok seems confused for only a moment later.  Then his face opens up.

“Oh, right.”  He shakes his head, “I wasn’t flirting, Jungkook.” Jungkook hates the look on his friend’s face.  Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

“What’s that look for Hoseok?” Hobi chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing Jungkook.  Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about that godforsaken look.

//

Jungkook wakes up the next morning (which thank god happens to be a Saturday,) to a text message from Y/N.  He’s been trying to convince her to use more emojis - but she refuses.

Secretly, he finds her texting kind of cute.

But he’ll never tell her that.

Y/N: Are you free today?

Jungkook: as a bird.  what did you have in mind?? :) 

Y/N: It’s my birthday.  Soomi is taking me out bowling.  Wanna come?

Jungkook feels his heart swim all the way up to his throat.

Soomi?  And wait what - it’s Y/N’s birthday? He’s sort of offended she only brought it up now.

Jungkook: uhhh… what?? happy fuckin birthday y/n!!! ur naughty!!! birthday ??? why didnt you tell me yesterday??? 

Y/N: You’re an English Lit student.  Use proper vocabulary and grammar please.  And I don’t know I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Jungkook: u cant change me boo… u just text like a granny.  its your birthday stupid ofc its a big deal.  mind if i invite some of my friends??

It’s a few minutes before Y/N finally replies. 

Y/N: Yeah.  Sure.  Meet us at Blue Pins in an hour?

Jungkook: c u there… birthday girl!!!!!

Y/N: Ugh.

Jungkook smiles at the way she still acts like she hates him even though he knows she doesn’t really.

It really is the start of a beautiful friendship.

//

An hour later Jungkook finds himself sat in a booth with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table.

Hoseok clicks his tongue loudly and grabs his friend's hand from across the booth.  His eyes are narrowed a little.

“Will you calm down?” “Are you kidding?” Jungkook’s eyes are as wide as a pair of saucers, “I’m about to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

Hoseok scoffs at that and Taehyung scrolls through his phone, bored as always.  

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat, “He said yes.” 

Jungkook feels like his heart has just fallen out of his asshole.

“What?”

“Jimin said yes,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, almost as if he’s annoyed at this spectacular outcome, “He’ll come to Y/N’s party at the end of the semester..”

“Oh fuck YES!” Jungkook fist pumps the air in joy as Hoseok chuckles in delight.

“You’re overreacting,” Namjoon tells his friend seriously, “Jimin coming does not equal Jimin falling in love with Y/N.”

“It gets me one step closer though,” Jungkook feels lighter already, “And one step closer to that means one step closer to Soomi falling in love with me.”

Namjoon snorts out a laugh, “Stop it.”

“What?” Jungkook takes a swig from the cappuccino he insisted on ordering as soon as they arrived, “It’s true.”

“You’re not seriously thinking you’re in love with this girl Jungkook?”  Hoseok’s eyes dance with mirth, “I know you man.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok raises a dubious brow, “You’re the ultimate fuckboy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes.  You are.”  Taehyung tacks on helpfully, “Notoriously so, actually.”

“Shut up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it but he knows his friends are kind of right.  Sue him - he’s young and handsome and he’s in college.  Everybody fucks around in college.

“And anyway I don’t actively pursue girls unless I have the intention of taking it somewhere.”  Jungkook crosses his arms, “A fuckboy I may be, but a dickhead I am not.”

“Says the guy who forgot Y/N’s name after a vigorous night of lovemaking.”  Namjoon grins like the cat who got the cream and Jungkook wants to smack him.

“You can thank your dear friend Kim Taehyung for that.”  Jungkook replies sharply, narrowing his eyes at his so-called childhood best friend.

Taehyung gasps like he can’t believe what Jungkook’s just said.

“Seven tequilas on an empty stomach is never a good idea Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You kept insisting.”

Taehyung answers with a flippant wave of his hand, eyes finally moving away from his phone, “Whatever.  You’re an adult, right?  You could’ve said no.”

“Not when free alcohol is involved.” “Anyway Kookie, the point is you can’t be in love.”  Hoseok leans back like he’s just discovered the meaning to life.  Always so smug.

Jungkook can’t help but find it a little annoying.

“And how, oh wise one, are you coming to this conclusion?” Jungkook’s tone is dripping with sarcasm.  He raises a brow at his friend and gives him the most pointed look he can manage.

It’s still Hoseok and Jungkook has to admit he respects his opinion the most.

“Because you’re you.  And you barely know this girl.”  Hoseok rolls his eyes, “That’s how.”

“I find that offensive,” Jungkook retorts, “People are allowed to change and grow.  Now I’ve met Soomi I’m different.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “There’s no point, Hobi.  We all tried, believe me.  But he’s decided that he’s in love with her.  Just get on board with it.”

Jungkook sends Hoseok a toothy grin once he swallows the last of the cappuccino and nods emphatically.

He knows what his friends think of him.

That he’s slutty and careless.  That commitment scares the shit out of him.  That he’s incapable of monogamy.  A combination of all of the above.

But Jungkook knows the truth.  He didn’t want a girlfriend before this because he hadn’t met someone that made sense to him.

And what’s the point of being with someone unless you’re all in?

“Anyway when you’re guests at our wedding it’ll all make sense,” Jungkook pushes his empty coffee cup to the side, “We’re meant to be.”

Taehyung laughs at this - despite himself - and Hoseok and Namjoon chuckle too.

“Jungkook?” The sound of someone calling his name causes him to turn quickly, eyes widening when he sees who it is.  Y/N.  She’s smiling at him of course - but that’s not what causes Jungkook to almost go into cardiac arrest.

No.  Of course not.

It’s the beautiful angel standing beside Y/N that causes him to almost forget how to breathe.

“Hi,” He squeezes out despite himself, eyes riveted to Soomi’s beautiful face, “Hi.”

Soomi smiles and Jungkook is immediately breathless.

“Jungkook right?  Y/N’s… Friend.”  The suggestive tone annoys Jungkook - he can’t have Soomi thinking he belongs to anyone else but her - and he nods.

“Yeah.” “But just a friend now,” Y/N pipes up helpfully, “We… Uh… Worked through our differences.  And now we’re friends.  Just friends.  Totally platonic.” Jungkook thinks she’s kind of overkilling the whole thing but he doesn’t say anything.  Instead he smiles at Soomi and watches as her face puts two and two together.

Yes.  Yes.

Jungkook wants her - no he needs her to know that he’s single.

Really single.

Totally single and available and hers.

Namjoon clears his throat somewhere from Jungkook’s left.  He turns to his friends and nods quickly.

“Right.  Yes of course.  My friends - these are my friends.  Taehyung and Namjoon, and Y/N you’ve already met Hoseok.” The two share a small wave.  Jungkook ignores the stab of annoyance that sends to his gut.

“Hi,” Soomi smiles in a way Jungkook is sure is almost too heavenly to be real, “I’m Soomi.” God.  He really is a goner.

//

Jungkook doesn’t want to brag, but he is pretty good at bowling.

Okay.  Who’s he kidding?

He totally wants to brag.

The moment Y/N splits them up into two teams - Soomi, Jungkook and her versus Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung - he’s determined to win.

He has to win. 

He has to show Soomi one of his many, many, many talents. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Soomi remarks as he throws his first strike, “Or is that just beginner’s luck?”

Jungkook shakes his head and shrugs, “I’d say I’m pretty good.”

Her giggle is music to his ears.

“That’s impressive.  What kind of girl doesn’t want a man who can throw a strike?”

Jungkook smirks, “That’s what I always say.” Her eyes crinkle at the side when she smiles and though it's not quite as adorable as Y/N’s - he’ll never admit this out loud - she still looks so sweet his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest.  He forgets for a moment where he is, laying on the charm thick.

“Is that how you seduce poor unsuspecting women then?  With your bowling skills?��

He winks in that way that usually works and his smirk widens, “You know it!” 

Soomi giggles again and Jungkook is surprised at how smoothly this all seems to be going - when the sound of somebody throwing a gutter grabs his attention.

His eyes lift - thinking it has to be the other team - and he furrows his brow when he sees Y/N standing at the very top of the bowling lane, staring at the full set of pins in front of her.

Holy shit.

Jungkook momentarily forgets about Soomi - his competitive nature kicked into overdrive - as he shoots up from his seat and rushes towards Y/N.

“Oh my god,” He’s right beside her in an instant, “Was that you?”

Y/N looks up at him - cheeks flushed - and nods, “Yeah.  I’m terrible at bowling.”

“So why would you choose to come here?  On your birthday?” 

Jungkook is somewhere between disbelief and pure horror.  But he has to admit, the look on her face is sort of funny.  She’s mortified.

“Soomi suggested it.  She said it might be fun,” She looks away for a moment, “For her maybe.”

The sound of someone scoring a strike blares to Jungkook’s left and when he sees Taehyung performing some kind of ridiculous victory dance, he decides enough is enough.

“No.  No.”  Jungkook sets his jaw, “I’m going to help you.”

Y/N’s brow lifts, “What?” “I’m going to help you.  You’re going to score a strike.” 

She snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t think you realise how truly terrible I am at this.”

“And I don’t think you realise how truly competitive I am,” He gestures to the balls, “Grab the lime green.  That’s the lightest.”

Y/N watches him for a moment longer.  She looks behind him and moves her hand in the general direction of Soomi.

“What about Soomi?” He flares his nostrils, “She’ll still be there after I finish helping you.”

Y/N stares at him, and when Jungkook cocks his head towards the row of balls lining the back of the bowling alley, she shrugs and follows his command.  

Jungkook takes this as a moment to teach Y/N how to shine.  

After all, what better way to fell good about yourself than being good at something you always thought you sucked at?

When Y/N comes back with the lime green ball, he grabs her free arm and positions her to stand with her back to his chest, wordlessly.

“Woah.”  Y/N breathes, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s mouth is right beside her ear, “Just follow me okay?  I’m helping you, I swear.”

He slides his hand down to the ball and grips her fingers carefully.

“Don’t hold too much tension in your wrist,” He tells her sternly, “You’re too tense.  You’re always too tense.  Relax.” Something strange passes between them.  Y/N takes a long, deep breath, and Jungkook tries to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Now slowly, slowly, bring the ball back,” Y/N follows Jungkook’s movements, “And… Release.”

He helps her flick it onto the lane, and they watch in suspense as the ball spins towards the pins.  There is almost a moment where everything is suspended in time - before the ball crashes with the pins and nine of them fall down.

Y/N squeals in happiness and turns around sharply, throwing her arm around Jungkook’s neck and pressing herself against him in a hug.

“Thank you Jungkook!” She is smiling so widely, his heart turns, “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.”  Jungkook finds he’s grinning too, “You deserve it.  Happy birthday Y/N.” He pushes some hair out of her face - practical purposes of course, it was getting in her eyes - and she seems to catch her breath at the gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, before someone clears their throat from behind them and they break apart.  Soomi is standing between them, holding a bubble gum pink bowling ball.

Jungkook wonders almost flippantly if she only picked it up for it’s colour.

“It’s my turn, right?” She turns her smile on Jungkook and he melts.

God.

She’s beautiful.

“Right.”  Jungkook smiles back, “Your turn.”

When he turns to move back to their booth he notices Y/N watching their interaction carefully.  Her eyes flit away the moment she’s caught, but Jungkook knows what he saw.

Strange.

Very strange indeed.

//

Later on that evening, after they’ve all shared a pizza, and Jungkook has spent the rest of the night watching Soomi with hearts in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat with purpose.

They’re sat in their living room - Hoseok has decided to crash over because, why not? - and playing a midnight mario kart match, when Jungkook’s friend seems to have something to say.

Jungkook pauses the game.  He turns to Hoseok.

“Yes?” There is a brief moment of silence.  Taehyung is forever scrolling through his phone, and Namjoon has long ago gone to bed.  Hoseok clicks his tongue.

“Are you sure you like Soomi?”

The question completely throws Jungkook off.

He raises a questioning brow, “What?”

“I’m just - asking.  I’m just…” Hoseok turns to Taehyung for support.  When his friend doesn’t notice, he smacks him across the shoulder, “Tae.”

“What?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Have you guys talked about this?” Taehyung seems to realise where the conversation has just come from.  He actually locks his phone and sets it to one side.

“Yeah.”  Taehyung answers honestly, “We have.” “I’ve told you guys a million times.  I know I barely know her but -” “That’s not it.”  Hoseok licks his bottom lip, “I mean it’s crazy you think you fell in love at first sight but… Stranger things have happened.” Jungkook scoffs, “So?  Why have you asked then?” Another beat.

Taehyung sighed heavily, “Because we think you like Y/N.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook snorts out a laugh because really - what else can he do?, “Why the fuck would you think that?” His friends share another look and Jungkook hates that.

He hates that they think they know him better than he knows himself.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Just a feeling.” “A feeling that’s wrong.”  Jungkook states firmly, “Dead wrong.” Taehyung nods and picks up his phone, “Fine.  Alright.  We’re wrong then.” Hoseok seems like he wants to say more but he doesn’t opting instead for something that sounds sort of like a grunt.

Jungkook watches his friends for a moment longer.

“Yeah.  So wrong.”

//

That night, when Jungkook’s just about to go to bed he receives a text message.  He opens his phone, expecting Y/N and finding, instead, an unrecognised number staring back at him.

Soomi: hiiiii jungkook :) it's soomi… y/n gave me ur number. hope u dont mind.

Jungkook pushes his friends’s ridiculous theory to the back of his head, and focuses instead on the fact that Soomi has just texted him.  His thumbs move to answer her but he pauses, moving instead to open Y/N’s chat history.

Jungkook: hey. happy bday again champ. u da bomb!! also thanks for giving soomi my number. u a real one for that, chief!!! :) :) :)

Y/N’s reply comes only a few minutes later.

Y/N: Thank you Jungkook.  I appreciate it.  And no worries… She seemed to really be into you after tonight.  So well done, yeah? :) 

Jungkook smiles at the emoji that he imagines Y/N forced herself to add, and almost misses the part when she says Soomi was into him.

Right.  Yeah.  Perfect.

He opens up Soomi’s chat and starts to write out a reply.

This is exactly what he wanted.

//

TAGLIST:  @cuddleboo @veronawrites @minluvly @severetimetravelnerd @moonchild1 @bunnyjeonjk @multicolourunicorn  @somewhereinthestarss  @jwlmnbt  @jojo-suga @zera10 @ggukkieland @thesugatoyourtae @dxlbts​ @wxndi

[burntmcnuggies]

Jealous Bird (Smut)

Jealous! Hawks x Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, strong language, feral Hawks, rut, unprotected sex, and a jealous birb, 18+ only please! :D

If you’d like the fluff version and not the smut, you can go here! ➪ Fluff <3

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulder were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and I have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always debate you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“People with animal quirks like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start now! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! Getting all wet and horny at night thinking of their hero Hawks taking them from behind~” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please I’ll do anything for you! Take me! Oh please fuck my sopping pussy with your big fat cock til I can’t move anymore! Mm! Cum inside me! Let me bare your kids!

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak so lewdly. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans thirstin’ for my cock~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything sexual with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans aching for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey there, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful ashy blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched their back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understand why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen them before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. “Hawks what-“

“I’m tired of waiting. I can’t fucking hold it in any longer. I know I’m impatient, but you make it so fucking hard to hold back sometimes.” You opened your mouth about to question, but the only thing that came from your mouth was a terrified scream having Hawks launch you both into the air and fly quickly through the skies. You held onto him for dear life, screaming at him to put you down. You nearly hugged the ground when Hawks reached a luxury penthouse apartment. “What the hells the matter with y- mmm!” He forced his lips onto you quickly, roughly grabbing your body and pulling you against him. His wings still outstretched and flapping slightly.

His feathers went to open the sliding glass door, pushing you inside while still having your lips firmly connected. He was hungry, eating your mouth like it was the only thing he’d had in years. His tongue forced its way passed your lips, dominating the inside of your mouth with his fiery passion. Your hands clawed at his fluffy tan jacket, pulling him closer, your body now aching to be touched more by him. He was just so intoxicating. It was starting to get hard to breath after a while, and you tried to pull yourself away, but he moved with you, keeping your lips firmly together. He only parted away to growl out an order to you. “Breath through your nose.”

His hands were on you again, thick gloved hands trailing down your waist to grab a handful of your tasty ass. A squeak flew out of your lips, allowing him deeper access to your mouth than he already had. You couldn’t deny the dampness beginning to build down there. Your panties were now wet with your slick, making you slightly uncomfortable with the way the damp fabric rubbing against your folds. “God.” He breathed against your lips, not even giving you a second to catch your breath before he was on you again. His hands quickly got towork on getting your shirt off. “I can smell your fuckin’ arousal. Fuck it’s intoxicating. You drive me fucking crazy!”

“H-Hawks! W-Wait!” You voiced your want to stop and talk whatever he was feeling out, but just seeing that lustful passionate look in his eyes, it was a lost cause. His pupils were blown with lust, his breathing heavy and ragged, desperate to start touching you again. “It’s your fault... all your fuckin’ fault it came early. Now be a good baby bird and take responsibility.” You didn’t have time to refuse before he was on you again, his lips finding their way harshly to your neck, his teeth lightly biting. You jerked your head to the side, moaning softly at the feeling of his canines digging into your skin. Your heart was hammering harshly against your chest feeling his thick glove drift up your shirt, roughly grabbing your boobs, groaning at the squishy feeling in his hands. “I didn’ want you to see me like this... but after all the shit that’s happened today... I can’t hold back. Not anymore. That was out the door whenever you started mocking my thirty fans.”

He pulled your shirt over your head quickly, pushing you back into his couch while his hands grabbed your waist, his tongue sliding across the top of your breasts. A shiver raked through your body, low pants leaving your mouth as you watched his mouth move lower. In a flash of red, a feather came up and sliced your bra open, being the impatient man he is, he didn’t want to struggle with getting it off you just to see those perky nips of yours. You were quick to cover yourself, too embarrassed showing your best friend your body like that. It’s not like you would ever look at each other the same after this. A strong grip enclosed around your wrists, Hawks grabbing your wrists and pinning them by your sides.

“H-Hawks...” Your breathy whisper of his name drove him almost mad. He breathed onto one of your nipples, hot breath fanning over the entirety of your perky buds. You squirmed in discomfort and whimpered, your body betraying your mind, desperately wanting his mouth on you. “Hah... I knew you wanted me just as much as I fucking wanted you. How long, how long have you wanted me? Tell me. Tell me how much you crave me right now, ‘cause I can’t get enough!” He drew out the flat of his tongue, running it over your nipple, all while his golden eyes stared right at you expressions. Your legs clinched together tightly feeling a tingling sensation spread from his lick. “Hawks no, mmm~ you cant...”

“I can, and I will, you’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you out of my apartment until I’ve marked you as mine, and you’ve got so much fucking cum inside you that you’ll already look pregnant.” Your eyes widened and you jerked away from him. Pregnant?! Was he out of his mind?! You weren’t even dating yet! Sure you’ve had feelings for him for a long time now but this was all moving too fast! “What did you expect? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. So fucking good. You won’t be able to think about anyone else but me.” Now it all clicked. What he said earlier, how he was acting now. Why hadn’t you noticed it sooner? He practically told you everything this morning, you were just too stupid to consider it.

Mating season.

That’s why his feathers had been brighter, the cooing and whistling coming from his throat. The displays of dominance to other men who you conversed with. Courting traits for a male trying to attract a female. You weren’t dumb, animals mated to do one thing, and one thing only. Reproduce. Their instinct immediately is to find a female and mate with them, reproduce and leave. However, this wasn’t always the case in some. “Fuck, you smell so damn good down here. Your pussy’s so wet for me already. And I haven’t even done anything, yet. Looks like you’ve become a thirsty fan, huh? Wanting my cum deep inside you and gettin’ wet while I manhandle you? Fuck, you’re so damn sexy.”

“Hawks m-more~” You were hesitant to ask him for more, worrying for your poor body and your sensitive heart. Only sensitive for him. You accepted your feelings for him, struggling to voice your new found notion to him. He growled lowly in response to your request, hands hastily pulling your pants off in one fell swoop. He was absolutely feral. “I wanna eat you out so fuckin’ bad. Your sweet pussy, sopping snd beggin’ to be stuffed, fuck.” He has a particularly vulgar tongue most of the time, but never like this. He always expressed how hard it was for him to hold back, but this was a completely different side of him you’d never seen. It was like he was feral. A complete animal. “Oh, I’m gonna tongue fuck the shit out of you. You’ll cum all over my tongue, just like how you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.”

He stood up quickly, his feathers dispersing to shrug his jacket off before he pulled his tight shirt over his head. Just like that his wings came back to life, flapping slightly as a readjustment. His gloves were removed as well, now you could feel his bare hands roaming over your exposed body. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs and putting your inner thighs around his head, but not too tight. He approached your entrance, a damp spot clearly evident on your fabric panties. His fingertips dug into your thighs, pushing his face flush against your panties. He let out a breathy moan against your wet folds protected by your panties, subconsciously humping the couch for even the slightly bit of pressure against his hard cock.

“Hah, fuuuuck. I’m so horny, everything’s so hot. Let’s get these cute little panties off. Don’t wanna rip ‘em now. Need something to hold my cum inside your pretty pussy so you bare my kids.” Hawks grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs and onto the floor. He kneeled on his knees in front of the couch, his head between your legs, your feet propped against the coffee table, and your hands gripping the couch anywhere you could, desperately wanting to grab his messy hair. “Oh god...” He moaned at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slick slowly dripping onto the couch much to your embarrassment.

“D-Don’t stare dumba- H-Hawks!” You cried out his name in surprise once he drove his face deep into your crotch. His nose firmly pressed against your sensitive clit, his tongue diving deep into your cunt without warning. Your hands dove straight to his hair, pulling at his blonde locks trying to keep yourself composed from his pleasure. “Oh fuck! Oh Hawks! Sh-Shit! Mmm baby yes~” Your head was spinning, his teeth lightly pressing against yours folds. It didn’t help anything with all of the lewd smacking and slurping of his tongue eating you out so damn good. “Ahh! N-No Wait! Your tongue! It’s so... Ngh! Deep!”

“Keep moaning for me, just like that. Moan for me and don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.” The vibrations of his lips against your sensitive pussy cause you to flinch and squirm against his sinful touch, fingers pulling at his hair harder. An unexpected groan escaped his lips as he went back to work, tongue swirling and digging around, searching for that one spot that would make your world come undone. You continued to moan and call out his name, instinctively pushing his head deeper. His movements were quick and sloppy, savoring every lick of your delicious fluids, groaning lewdly against your pussy’s lips once he found that spot. “Oh fuck! Right there! Mm~! More! Please a-again!”

He ruthlessly began to abuse that spot, pushing his tongue harshly against it and attempting to massage it. His fingers poked and prodded at your insides, pushing his fingers past and replacing his tongue with those long slim fingers of his. Your head was now thrown back against the couch, releasing his hair and clawing at the couch for dear life, desperately clinging to anything you could grab. You moaned at the foreign feeling, forgetting what if even felt like to have sex. You had a fleeting experience in your last year of high school, but that was it. One time thing. Now here you are doing it again, with your best friend no less, or were you even friends anymore? His fingers worked on making sure you were prepared for him. You were enjoying yourself, being pleasured by the man you’ve hidden your feelings from for years. Him however...

His cheeks were dusted pink, sweat trickling down his forehead with some of his curly blonde locks sticking to his face. His breathing was ragged, heavy and stuttered with a thick sense of desire behind it. His wings were quivering, the color so vibrant it could rival a neon sign. Now you didn’t know much about their nature, but you could tell just by looking at his wings that he was very excited and desperate. “Gotta get you nice and prepared for me right, chicken wing? Gotta get you ready to take my fat cock.” His lewd words made your world just so much hotter. You could feel your arousal leaking down your pussy to your puckered hole and down onto Hawks’ expensive couch. “Ahh! St-Stop! I’m-Im gonna cum! Oh god I’m gonna cum!”

He jerked his fingers out quickly, grunting in the process as he lustfully stared at his fingers coated in your juices. He breathed out a moan while he kicked away all your juices, growling lowly in possessiveness. “Sorry chicken wing but... I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel you clampin’ down on me, cumming so hard you faint. Screaming my name at the top of your lungs so that everyone knows that you’re mine! All fuckin’ mine.” Your eyes widened seeing him sit up more, pushing his pants down the rest of the way before kicking them off, leaving him in only his red boxers. His arousal was definitively clear, noticing how the head of his cock peeked out from the waistband, leaking pre-cum, tip red and aching. The sight was undeniable steamy, your legs clenching together with your thighs slowly rubbing together. “That’s right baby. Already thirstin’ for my cock, aren’t you? Fuckin’ slut. My slut. Hah... fuck I gotta be inside you.”

He pushed his boxers down, revealing his aching hard-on. Balls lulling down, full of cum, ready to be emptied out inside of your tight pussy. Without thinking, you sat up slowly coming close to his erection. You could smell his heavily masculine and musky scent from where you were, but you needed more of him. You sadly didn’t get far before he grabbed your head and pushed you back. “Nah ah, baby. Not today. I’m too fuckin’ horny and desperate to let you suck my cock today. Next time.” Next time? There was going to be a next time? Your heart hammered harshly knowing your long time friend and crush planned on doing all of this again with you. “Hang on tight, dove. It’s gonna be a long bumpy ride.”

“W-Wait!” You watched in worry as Hawks pinned you down, spreading your legs and positioning himself. You hadn’t taken him seriously, but now you regret it. “P-Protecti- Ahn~!” You couldn’t even protest once he pushed himself inside, moaning loudly at the sinful heat that engulfed his cock, heating up his entire body more than it already was. His wings flapped slowly, occasionally twitching as he impatiently waited for you to get used to his size. The cool breeze sorta calmed you down, taking your attention away from the pain nestled in your lower regions. “Fuck, can I move? Please, please let me move.”

Good god did he sound fucking hot begging.

“Yeah, y-you can- MMM! Fuck!” You threw your head back, pleasure spreading through your body. As soon as he heard the word “yeah” he immediately got to work on fucking your cunt until you were overflowing with his cum. You harshly bit your lip, holding in your embarrassing noises from his ears, however, he had no problem not hiding them from you. “Fuck, fuck, hah... don’t hide your moans from me. I wanna fuckin’ hear ‘em. Let everyone know who’s fucking you, who you belong to, and that you’re m-mine! Fuck!” He breathlessly moaned against your face, ramming himself into you repeatedly. Your hands were now on his back, clawing down his muscular back. He growled lowly into your ear, breathily cursing. “D-Damnit! Can’t... f-find it! Ahh... hah... fuck chicken wing, fuck yeah!”

His husky grunts were dangerously bordering animalistic. His pants were ragged, hips never faltering in movement, his wings flapping slightly and quivering every now and again. “Yeah baby? You like me fucking you? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. You’ll bare m-my clutch! You’re mine, ahhaahh! Fuck!” You were crying his name, clenching his back with your legs squeezing on either side of his waist. His cock was hammering against a bundle of nerves in your body you didn’t even know you had. “Hawks! Oh god! Please! Slow down-!” He pulled out quickly, leaving you a whimpered mess without that full feeling in your stomach. He flipped you over, hastily ramming himself back in you from behind, his wild thrusts getting harder. “Yeah, fuck yeah! There it is! Yeah! Gonna cum right in that womb if yours, you’re gonna be so round and pregnant with my kids! N-Nobody’ll ever come near you again! They’ll know you’re mine! My dove! My b-baby!”

His hot hands pushed your lower back, slamming you down against the couch and brutally fucking your tight pussy like no tomorrow, animalistic growls leaving his lips, teeth burying into your shoulder and neck. He was marking you as his. You were covered in his scent now, other men wouldn’t dare come near you now that you were filled with Hawks’ pheromones. “I’m gonna cum! Ahh! Hah! Hahn fuck I’m cumming Hawks! I’m cumming!” He rose his hand and smacked your ass harshly, the red tingling sensation spreading through your cheek. It felt so damn good. He grasped his hand over your stomach and pushed harshly. “You’re cumming, yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna try and milk me are ya? Milk me, baby! Milk me so damn good and get every last drop of my fuckin’ cum in that ripe fertile womb of yours!”

“Hawks! Hah! Hah! Oh I’m cumming! Nhhh I’m c-cum...ming! Ahh!” You came harshly all over his still thrusting cock, your creamy juices spreading all over his cock and slipping down his balls full of his child baring cum. He didn’t stop yet, still bucking his hips through your orgasm even though you were still so sensitive. “Ohho! You’re such a good girl! So good! Fuck baby! Yeah, keep squeezin’ me! Keep fuckin’ squeezin’ meee! Agh!” He groaned deeply into your ear, desperately panting and grunting into your ear. You cried, physical tears running down your cheeks at the intensity of his brutal thrusts on your aching sore cunt. He slapped your ass again, squeezing it tightly afterwards with his nails creating crescents in your smooth skin. “F-Fuck I’m close! Yeah you want my cum? Tell me you want my cum deep inside you! C’mon baby, say it!”

“I want your cum Hawks! Mmm! Please! Please I want it! I wanna carry your kids! I want to be bred by you! Ah hahn! I can’t! Please!” You immediately regretted your words. His pace had become quicker, harsh pounds becoming desperate. You could feel his balls slapping against your inner thighs, a red itchy tingling bubbling up. His hands came around your neck, the other going to harshly rub your clit. You couldn’t contain the endless moans, cries, and screams of his name, his hero name to be precise. “Oh god! Oh my god! Feels so good! Mmm! Hawks, I-I’m gonna cum again!” He pants against your ear, snarling and growling about how good and round he’s gonna make you.

“Fuck I’m cumming! Hah, fuck!” He grunted loudly and released heavy shaky breathes, his raging hard on twitching inside your now gooey insides. You came harshly, your walls clamping down on him. He was fully embedded within you, balls pressed firmly against you, his scarlet wings twitching and flapping, stretching widely suddenly stiffening up. You could feel the warm spurts of his cum deep inside, forcing a low moan past your swollen lips. His wings happily drooped once he had finished, his head now hanging low, trying to catch his breath. “H-Hawks... I love you.” You finally admitted to him, watching intently to see his reaction to your words. He laughed huskily, his golden eyes raising back up to meet yours, still cloudy with lust. “You fuckin’ better. You’re my dove, now and forever, ya hear that? Now...”

“Let’s make sure you get pregnant.”

—

Pain was the first thing you were met with the morning after your undeniably passionate night with Hawks. Feathers were scattered all over the place, large blankets thrown everywhere, and some of his clothes were thrown over you. Incredibly confused, you sat up but quickly jolted back down as a searing hot pain shot through your body from your hips. “Woah there, chicken wing! Relax, you must be in a lot of pain. I don’t blame you after the harsh fucking I put you through last night.” The man who had put you in such pain walked into the room, shirtless and only in a pair of boxers. The bed dipped slowly as he sat on the bed, handing you a cool glass of water. You painfully sat up, gently taking the glass from his rough hands, thanking him quietly. “What the hell did you do while I was out?”

The pro hero looked around the room before coming to lay eyes on you again, scratching the back of his neck with a faint blush on his cheeks. “I uh, made a nest!” He answered bashfully. It was an incredibly rare sight to see him embarrassed. Uncomfortable sometimes, but never embarrassed. You looked around the mess and raised a brow. “Nest? Why the hell did you-“ You stopped once you remembered what had happened last night between the both of you and what you had realized. You blushed and threw the covers off yourself quickly, horrified at the sticky mess dripping from your insides, still. Just how many rounds had you gone with him last night? “Hah, Sorry. I just couldn’ hold myself back. My ruts are really bad, which is why I always take a week off.”

“You didn’t have to cum inside me this much Hawks...” You said and cringed at all the fluids dripping out of your abused cunt. You didn’t notice, but his wings shivered, ruffling up a bit at the sight of your leaky pussy, until they settled down again. “It’s your fault ya know? Makin’ me so damn jealous I had to claim you for myself. Claim you before someone else took you.” Your cheeks reddened slightly, and you looked to the side, your heart racing. Of course, he could feel your sensitive heart racing, and slowly leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, melting into his sweet kiss. There was no sexual intention behind the kiss, only a reassurance that you didn’t have to worry about speaking your true feelings, that he already knew you loved him. “You’re my baby bird now. You’ve upgraded chicken wing. Congrats.”

“How many levels are there with you?” You laughed, enjoying this sweet moment with your new lover. He laughed and hopped into bed beside you, pulling you close to him in your little nest. His hands ran over your flat stomach slowly, cooing and flapping his wings lightly. “A lot more, step up your game, baby. You good though? How do you feel knowin’ you have the most popular hero’s cum inside of you. Mixin’ with all your fertile eggs to make my fuckin’ kids.” He growled possessively and wrapped his wings around you protectively, kissing your head and over your face. You couldn’t help but turn red at his words, embarrassed by how blunt he is. “Do... do you really want to have kids Hawks? I mean... we just started... d-dating...”

“Who cares the order, as long as you’re mine and that little bundle of feathers inside you is all mine, order can go fuck itself.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his arm gently. His whistling and cooing got louder the more he cuddled you, his lips peppering your face with kisses. “Ya know they already have story’s about us? They got my whole ‘top bird’ thing on video.” He seemed quite happy with it. The president of the HPSC would not be happy about this once she found out. But knowing Hawks, he couldn’t have given two fucks about it. He raised your chin, smirking smugly. “I also tweeted that we’re dating and that you’re mine, and that we’re gonna have chicks, and that all those other guys better stay away or I’ll kill ‘em.”

You rolled your eyes. “You jealous bird...”

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Nosy

Summary: The team notices Bucky sneaking off the compound every weekend. Now they’re standing outside of an apartment in Brooklyn while Redwing spies out the window.

Warnings: Language, smut, sex tape, daddy kink

Pairings: Bucky x Black!Reader

(A/N: This is a rewrite of Bucky’s Secret Life because 😬. Anyway enjoy. Likes and reblogs are great thanks.)

“C’mon, aren’t you a little curious?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes as Tony nudged him. Bucky had been acting a little stranger than usual. If they didn’t have a mission he was leaving in the evening on Friday to come home Sunday nights. This had become a weekly basis kind of thing to the point where he didn’t even show up to parties unless it was something completely mandatory.

It’s not like Steve had never asked him about it. Bucky was his best friend and of course he was curious why he was so hush hush. He hadn’t been expecting for him to freeze up and stutter his way around giving him any details. 

It was killing Sam the most because of course he was nosey as hell and between the three of them, he hated not being in the know. Natasha was even curious. Wanda kind of knew, but that’s because she couldn’t help the things she saw. Besides it wasn’t her place to tell. 

Because what Wanda had been seeing when she’d get a glimpse into his mind were filthy. Absolutely fucking filthy. The images flashing into her mind of him and the same naked woman that he was doing unspeakable things to. It played like porn, but they were clearly memories. She stayed quiet because it was none of her business.

“Why don’t we mind our own business,” Bruce suggested. “Bucky’s been through a lot. Maybe he’s just unwinding.”

“Bruce is right.” Steve smiled at the scientist, appreciative at him for speaking up.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, shrugging her shoulders. “Is he, though?” She replied. “What if he’s doing something dangerous. He could still be having issues.”

“True,” Rhodey finally giving his input from his spot at the table beside Tony. “We would rather be safe than sorry.”

Steve groaned. “Fine.”

Steve reluctantly trailed behind Natasha, Sam, and Tony as they followed Bucky the next weekend. They went about their day as normal as possible. They didn’t want him to get suspicious. As soon as he’d left they had Friday give them the word so they could make their move after. Sam had even had Redwing follow after him. 

“Guys, Bruce is right. We should leave it alone,” Steve tried to reason with them as they’d finally ended up outside of an apartment in Brooklyn. 

“No,” Sam said, as they tried to act nonchalant waiting for someone to open up the door. “We’re here let’s do this.”

Bucky placed his hands underneath your ass, balancing himself as he rammed into you. Your hands were splayed above your head as you took it. For someone who literally couldn’t get drunk he found something so intoxicating with the way your breasts bounced with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to capture your nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the brown nub.

You could feel yourself getting so close, but you weren’t allowed to come without permission. Since you weren’t in the mood to be punishes you obeyed him. You wanted to be a good girl for him this weekend after the way he’d made it hard for you to sit after you acted like a brat last time.

You’d made dinner, but it had been abandoned in favor of him dicking you down. He just couldn’t wait any longer to have your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. The plan was supposed to be a romantic evening with a home-cooked meal like you usually did on Friday nights. Saturday’s were usually for junk food as you spent the day either binge watching shows and fucking. It was the routine when he wasn’t busy with work.

It sucked that it felt like you’d never have a life outside of this apartment, but Bucky only needed a little bit longer. He needed to make sure there was nothing that could hurt you once your relationship became public. He’d seen to many romances end in tragedy and it scared him. He’d be damned if something bad happened to you.

His cock was stretching you wide open. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you moaned, leaning up so you could wrap your arms around his neck and then press your lips to his. He didn’t let up as he let you fall onto your back. He moved his hands from your ass to your legs to bring your knees to your chest.

He was so much deeper in this angle. Your head was swimmings you moaned into his ear, throwing your head back. “God, yes!”

“That’s it, Doll,” he moaned, leaning down to kiss you again. His tongue was in your mouth and you struggled to keep up because of how hard he was fucking you. Fuck you love it when you were at his mercy. In these moments it felt like he owned every inch of you.

The knock on the door brought the two of you out of your bubble. Bucky didn’t let up, though, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave when you didn’t answer. He needed to make his girl cum first. Whoever was on the other side could wait.

She nodded with a whimper, feeling too blissed-out to even do anything, except for what you were told. You were so close. The way you tightened around him. Pussy hugging his dick like it was afraid to let go. You whined as your juices seeped out of you.

“Can I cum?” You whimpered out. 

“Yeah, Doll.” He grinned down at you through his pleasure. He couldn’t help himself. You were to damn cute like this. All spread open taking every inch of him. Those noises sounding so good coming out of your mouth as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You cried out, hips moving to meet his thrusts. That coil finally snapped in your stomach as you came around him. Metal wrapping around your neck while your fingernails dug into his back,

He was determined to make you cum again. Except there was another knock on the door. This one louder, angrier. Bucky groaned, irritated already at whoever was interrupting. “Fuck,” he mouthed, jaw clenching. “I’ll get it. You stay right here, okay.”

You nodded unable to use your words as he pulled out. He covered you with the duvet, kissing your forehead lovingly as if he hadn’t just rearranged your guts. He slid on a pair of sweats and a red t-shirt - yes he kept clothes at your apartment. It was easier so he didn’t have to pack anything. Besides he knew you were wearing his hoodies when he wasn’t around. Yes even though you spent most of your time together naked, it was just more convenient.

Your head was resting on your pillow as you watched him walk through the door with half-lidded eyes. A dopey smile had spread across your face, snuggling under the covers as you waiting for him to come back.

Bucky looked through the peephole, then backed up seeing Steve on the other side. “What the fuck...”

“Bucky, c’mon, we know you’re in there,” the blond said through the door.

“We?” He frowned before opening it, but not undoing the chain. He could peek out just enough to see Natasha who was standing beside him with a little bit of Sam behind her and what he assumed was Tony next to him by the sudden waft of Axe Body Spray. “What are you doing here?”

Tony huffed. “Just let us in.”

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You guys should leave.”

“We’re just making sure you’re okay,” Nat said, trying to at least get a glimpse inside. It looked like a normal apartment, but Bucky’s body was blocking whatever else she could see.

“Gotta make sure you aren’t doing anything dumb,” Sam said.

“We were worried,” Natasha added.

Bucky scrunched up his face even more. “Worried about what?”

Just then you screamed from the bedroom. Bucky’s heart dropped as he heard you because if anything had ever happened to you he’d probably murder someone. His first thought was that they followed you which led to someone following them as he ran back to the bedroom. 

You were standing there with one of your many throw blankets covering you. So you were okay. As he walked over to you, he grabbed your hand. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s something in the window,” she breathed, now standing behind him for cover. Whatever it was, her super soldier serum, metal armed boyfriend could take care of it.

They finally felt victorious as Bucky fully opened the door. Until Redwing was thrown out. “Sam, what the fuck!”

“Hey!” The other man gasped, seeing his beloved bird on the ground before picking it up to cradle it into his arms.

“Who was that?” Natasha asked with a smirk on her face now. 

“My girlfriend! I’ve been seeing someone! Is that a crime.” He threw his hands up. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to date.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and sighed. “See I told you guys this was stupid.”

Tony pouted, crossing his arms like he was disappointed. “I was so sure you were being brainwashed again. I was actually ready for a little action.” 

“It’s not his brain being washed,” Sam said with a similar smirk to the one Natasha wore before frowning as he looked down at the slightly broken Redwing. Bucky wanted to hit him so bad.

“Baby, is everything okay?” You asked, walking into the room with wobbly legs after hearing her boyfriend raise his voice.You’d slipped on the matching sweatshirt to his sweatpants. It was really baggy. Hitting you mid-thigh. All he could think suddenly was that god you better be wearing panties. Or else you’ll be getting that punishment you’d been trying to avoid this weekend.

“Yeah, Doll. They were just leaving.” His face softened. Although you saw him in a sexy dominating way, you never saw him genuinely angry. Even the few times you’d argued he never even raised his voice. He was so afraid of scaring you away that when he was around he softened himself. So now that you were so close he had to show a little restraint.

“So, this is her!” Sam asked, surprised as hell at seeing that Bucky really was hiding a girlfriend. “Hi, I’m Sam and you are?”

“Y/N,” you replied, politely, offering up a small smile. Yet on the inside you actually wanted to run and hide. This was not apart of the plan for when you finally met everyone. Besides you probably looked like shit after what Bucky had just done to you.

“I’m Natasha!” The red head chirped so unlike herself leading the four men to look down at her like she’d grown another head.”This is Steve and Tony.” 

It wasn’t very often that Tony Stark was speechless, but there he was as quiet as a mouse. All because the tin man had a girlfriend. A cute brown skinned girlfriend who was wearing his clothes. 

“Doll, why don’t you wait for me in the room,” Bucky said. “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Okay, D- Bucky...” you caught yourself leaning over to kiss his cheek before doing as you were told. 

He stared at her to make sure she got in the room before opening his mouth again. “Now will you leave. I’ll deal with you all and we can maybe have a team meeting about how important privacy is.” He glared at Tony who loved those little meetings about whoever was putting coffee grounds into the sink.

It was Vision.

Obviously.

At first. 

Until it became a fun little game for everyone to do to irritate the shit out of him. It was terrible yes, but his reactions were so, so, so entertaining.

The three grumbled to each other as they started to walk away, while Steve stood there shaking his head. “Sorry about this, Buck. I told them to leave you alone, but you know how they can be.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “I was just hoping to keep her all to myself for a little while.”

“She seems nice,” he said.

“She’s amazing,” he had to stop himself from gushing about you because he hadn’t been able to before and he was pretty sure he could go on for hours.

Steve couldn’t help, but smile. “I’m glad to see you happy.” After all the shit Bucky had been through it was nice to see him adjusting. 

The two finally said their goodbyes and Bucky finally got to shut the door. He went back to finish what he’d started with you, needing to make sure you were wearing panties under that sweatshirt before coming out to greet his friends. He knew you could be a little tease and you needed to be put in your place.

Steve jogged to catch up to his three nosey teammates who were almost out of the entrance of the building. He really was happy for Bucky. He deserved to be happy.

When they’d made their way back home, Sam decided to review the footage on Redwing while in the kitchen. At first, it was just the general views of him walking down the street and then the subway. “Well, at least we know Bucky is boring.” 

Steve looked over his shoulder shrugging at the footage that was just Bucky walking to your place. “You should probably just delete it now.”

Sam fast-forwarded it as his friend got to your apartment, punching in the code to be let in. “I dunno, it’s kind of funny to see Bucky walking around like a normal person.”

“And, he never noticed Redwing??” Steve asked as Natasha came to peek with them.

“That’s kind of weird. I would think Bucky would be more aware of his surroundings,” she noted.

Sam shrugged. “Clearly no-” he stopped speaking as he saw what the camera had suddenly focused on.

“We should probably talk to him about that,” Natasha said, taking a bite out of her protein bar. “We should invite her here, though. It’d be nice to have another girl around. Me and Wanda get so bored listening to you guys sometimes.”

Sam’s mouth went into a straight-line while his eyes widened watching as you the women he’d only met for five minutes had gotten on her knees with Bucky’s metal hand grabbing you by the hair stuffing his cock down your throat. Your nose was pressed to his pelvis as he held you there before he started fucking your mouth. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, quickly noticing how silent Sam went. 

Natasha leaned over to take another look at Sam’s screen just as Bucky had pulled you off to toss you on the bed and smack your ass. “What the... Sam! Delete it!” She gasped seeing Bucky impale you with his cock from behind, smacking your ass again.

You were very clearly enjoying how rough he was being with you as you bounced back against him, arching your back so you could take it.

“I’m trying! It’s not letting me!”

“What is it?” Steve asked, now looking again himself, seeing you the women he’d just met being fucking railed by his best friend. Bucky was saying something that they couldn’t make out, but the way he’d stopped moving only for you to buck back against him, it must have been absolutely filthy. “What the hell!”

“I didn’t know!” 

“Make sure it gets deleted.” Steve sounded so exhausted. If they’d listened to him in the first place this wouldn’t have even happened. 

“I’m trying!” He repeated, pressing different buttons on the panel.

“It’s kind of hot actually,” Natasha surprised them with saying. “I wasn’t really expecting Bucky to be like this.”

“What were you expecting?” Sam asked stopping to look at Natasha with his face all scrunched up.

Neither of them had ever seen her blush, but there she was. Face almost as red as her hair. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about him since the Red Room.”

“Wait, what?” Both of them asked, but Natasha had already started to walk away from them as if she hadn’t even said anything. Or like she hadn’t just seen a video of Bucky fucking you raw. They didn’t see the glazed over look in her eyes as she let her imagination run wild.

“What’d you guys f-” Tony asked, right when Bucky had flipped you onto your back with his hands under your ass, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. “What... the fuck... actually... wow...”

“I know. I think I might ask Bucky if she has a sister or something.”

“All of you are monsters,” Steve said. Inside he was very intrigued, but he wasn’t about to say that outloud. “Make sure it gets deleted.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a sighed.

“Captain Buzzkill.” Tony pouted.

[hintofelation99]

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

---------------------------------------------------

Based on this headcanon.

[lesbiansanemi]

Okay, home from the con, peeled off all latex, makeup, wigs, and cosplays, and in comfortable clothes for the first time in like three days and about to pass out after barely sleeping for three days, but here's the highlights (also I promise this is my last post about it, I just had a really fun time and am laksdjfakds about it)

Day one we're on our way to the con throwing on wigs and putting on makeup in the middle of Chicago traffic, somehow did not die

Me and my friend's husband cosplayed Shinji and Kaworu while she was Asuka and since people sometimes assume me and my friend are dating I thought it was funny that it was me and her husband who were the "couple" cosplay that day lol

The person who shouted "Get in the robot, Shinji!" at him and then disappeared into the crowd, never to be seen again

At one point a guy came up to us and was like "hey my friend wants to know if he can get a picture with you" and we were like "Oh yeah ofc!" and turned around and he was cosplaying the fucking Seele sound box (I did not fully register there was a person inside of it at first but oh my god)

After recharging in the hotel for a bit we went to the rave and it was a good fucking time. Lots of jumping and screaming and dancing and there was a mosh pit. Could have done without the Asuna cosplayer flashing everyone her whole underskirt area while getting grinded on in the middle of the mosh pit but eh, what are you gonna do

Helping my friends get into their super complex league of legends cosplays the next day (I conquered the world's most intense safety pins, let me tell you)

My best friend's pure and utter excitement over the full Freddy Fazbear cosplayer

About twenty minutes after arriving at the convention center on day two a Denji cosplayer came up to me and asked for a picture (I was cosplaying Makima) and we took one and then he goes "okay, I have another request, and you totally don't have to do it if you don't want to, but you know how Makima calls Denji her dog..." and then he pulls a whole leash out of his bag so I got to put a Denji cosplayer on a leash. Man got down on the ground and everything lmfao

Watching my friends walk around in their funky little bird feet all day for their league of legends cosplays

Somehow?? Someone??? Double-booked a rich kid's prom at the convention center? So all these high schoolers showed up in formal attire and were so fucking confused and horrified by all the fucking nerds and cosplayers over-running everything

One girl literally huffed at us when we walked by and her boyfriend pointed at us kinda excitedly lol Ruining prom for stuck up bitches even after my own prom hellll yeah

Today we cosplayed Maki and Nobara so fuck yes hardcore kinnie moment

I encountered a Toji cosplayer as Maki and we got some fun pictures together :D

I bought a Sanemi keychain from an artist and as she was wrapping it up, she goes "By the way I love your Maki cosplay. You must really like angry characters, huh?" and I almost fucking died

Encouraging my friend to finally ask Goru cosplayers for photos after she spent the whole weekend staring at them because she loves Goru

My friend got to meet a famous cosplayer she's been a fan of for a really long time, and she was super cool and just sat and chilled and chatted with us for like 30 minutes

Peeling the Maki makeup off of me in a panic in a Denny's parking lot half way home because we weren't gonna subject the poor staff into wondering what the fuck was going on

Anyways, it was an extremely fun weekend. I haven't got to go to a con since I was still in high school and a family member had to take me and didn't want to do anything/just made fun of everything. So actually getting to go the whole weekend, cosplay, go to events, and do it with two friends who were having just as much fun as I was was amazing :D

[penajavier]

though you are no god -  Frankie Morales x f!reader

This idea had been brewing for a while and hanging out in my drafts for a longer while, but I’ve finally found the inspiration to clean it up and share it! I am clearly a beginner at this and feedback/critique is always welcome. 

Title: though you are no god (credit)

Pairing: Francisco Morales x f!reader. One use of the word “girl”.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.3k

Content/warnings: brief mentions of nightmares and trauma recovery, angst, smut, still somehow the sappiest shit I’ve ever written. frankie likes to be praised. strictly 18+

ao3

••••••••

The first time you get to witness Francisco Morales fall to his knees in front of you, you almost don't remember it happening.  

His mouth presses hot and wet and urgent against your skin where he is bunching up your shirt to expose it. You are nearly as drunk as him, blindly pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind him. The wall behind you is cool but does absolutely fuck-all to clear your head because oh god his hands are big and warm and his tongue is incessant and oh god this is Frankie, your goofy, kind, awkward, hot as fuck friend-of-a-friend. He pulls you forward a fraction just to tug on your pants and underwear, letting them gather around your feet without giving you the leg room to step out of them. He lifts your left leg over his shoulder with ease, and then his hands are bracing him against you and his tongue is working as if it has a mind of its own, circling your clit and sliding up your lips and you don't remember his fingers being that thick but somehow they are and you are close to going insane. 

Maybe tomorrow you'll wonder how you ended up here, in a hallway in his apartment where he barely bothered to turn the lights on before pressing himself into you, effectively shutting off any sane connection you might have still retained to the world after however-many drinks you two had got in you. The night was supposed to be about Santi, you vaguely recall, but right now you honest to god cannot even remember what promotion he got that you were supposed to be celebrating. You might have made a mental note to apologize to him for leaving his party early, but Frankie adds another finger to your wet cunt and moans like it's pleasuring him more than you, and it's a real effort not to kick him in the chest or collapse on him then and there.  

The fucker laughs as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and somehow increases his efforts to a degree you hadn't thought possible. It doesn't take much after that for you to feel that knot tightening in your belly, the electricity of it making your limbs shake. Only when he’s satisfied making you cum thoroughly on his tongue and his hand does he stand up, and for the first time since you got here, he speaks. "Hi," he says, the loopiest grin on his face, before leaning forward to kiss you without waiting for you to answer.  

Your last remaining brain cell thinks to itself, this is going to be one hell of a night. 

•••• 

The second time Frankie Morales falls to his knees in front of you, you can barely bring yourself to look at him. 

It's been weeks (months?) since he practically fell off the grid, following your childhood best friend and designated bad-idea-haver Santiago Garcia into the guts of South America. You had reached the point where a part of you was bracing itself for the worst kind of news, of never getting to see your boys again or hell, not even knowing what the fuck happened to them down there. The rest of you was still holding on to your anger in a misplaced effort to stay hopeful, refusing to let you feel anything other than the need to wring their necks as soon as one of them walked back in the door. And that was it, the majority of your days spent getting on edge every time your phone rang or you felt you saw a familiar set of messy curls pass you by on the street, until you walked home one day to find him standing outside your door, hand poised to knock but hesitant. 

"What the fuck?" the words escape you before you can help it, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. When he turns to look at you coming up behind him, you almost stop in shock at how absolutely shit he looks. "What the fuck?" you say again, seeming to have lost all your vocabulary at the sight of this stupid infuriating beautiful man finally standing in front of you in one piece, messy curls and all.  

An eternity passes with the two of you simply staring at each other, your grocery bags forgotten in your hands and his fingers twitching in an effort to keep them to himself. The smell of fresh bread wafting from your grocery bag does little to alleviate any tension, and the silence is almost painful. You want to do something, say something of all the rage and hurt you've nursed in you at being left alone. How dare you, you want to bark at him, want to hold him by the collar and smack him or kiss his face raw. 

You must take too long in your own head because he carefully extends a hand toward you, but you are so over-stimulated at the mere sight of him that you flinch.  

That's what breaks him, you realize later when the storms have passed and the proverbial rivers have calmed. Not the pain and loss and grief of the mission - things he'll whisper into your chest when you let him - and not the physical battering he must have taken through it all. What breaks him is you flinching away from him, as if you'd forgotten who he was. It’s only me, it's your Frankie, he wants to scream; wants to gather you in his arms and breathe into your ribs. But all he can do is fall to the ground and plead with his eyes.

I'm sorry, mi alma he seems to be saying, and the sight of this glorious man breaking down in front of your doorstep makes you ache in the depths of your bones. You rush forward, all your anger evaporating away from you in the instant it takes to wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your stomach. The position is awkward at best. His touch feels almost alien and his hair doesn't smell like you're used to, but you let him cry, let him ruin the clothes you hadn’t given much thought to anyway, and it doesn't occur to either of you that the shirt is one of his that he'd left at your place. 

You choke back the ocean rising in your throat, not knowing how to navigate everything you're feeling at the same time. Will we ever be okay? you wonder, your entire body feeling numb as he holds you just the tiniest bit more tightly.  

You don't know then if you'll ever forgive him, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be the same man again, but right there in that moment none of it matters. What matters is that he is here, and you are holding him like you'd wished and prayed for in all those lonely nights. Maybe you'll never be okay like you used to be, but you have him for now, and you're too exhausted to think beyond that. 

•••• 

The third time, it's fucking magical. 

You and your Frankie have finally settled into a somewhat stable routine. After he left you with the promise to get his shit together, he made good on his word. It seemed as if the mission that must not be named put things into perspective for him - and for you, for that matter - and the two of you decided to give up on the delicate dance you kept orchestrating around each other. You had realized that you needed him much more than you could ever resent him for leaving, and he had realized he never wanted to feel the paralysing fear of thinking he'd never make it back to you again. You two had decided to sit down like adults and talk about it, and Frankie’s regular visits to his therapist had certainly helped. 

Now, in the early morning light in your shared bedroom, he looks the very picture of calm. The birds chirp softly outside the window, blending in with the music of the traffic that you two have begrudgingly come to love. The nightmares haven't left him completely, but they're less frequent and far less incapacitating for him. You feel a rush of pride for how far he's come, how much effort he put into building himself back up piece by piece after being shattered to his bare bones. You’ve seen him curl into you out of fear and into himself during the moments of self loathing when he feels he doesn't deserve your kindness, but now he sleeps with his head tilted slightly upward, exposing the beautiful planes of his neck to you. He is beautiful, you've known it for as long as you've known him, but something about the soft sunlight turning his curls golden and the way you can tell he's truly at peace in this moment, brings tears to your eyes and makes your throat clench. 

You lean up on your elbow and touch his face. His skin is soft, and he smells faintly of your body wash. Thief, you think fondly, brushing his unruly hair away from his forehead. he had stopped cutting it as frequently as he used to because he noticed you liked running your hands through it, and you realize with a jolt that that had been years ago, long before you two had any conversation about the future, even before he had his world turned upside down in the depths of an unnamed jungle. That is when you realize that Francisco Morales told you he loved you long before you had the sense to understand it, and this time you do cry. 

He stirs in his sleep. You briefly worry that you woke him, but he simply turns his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply at your shoulder before falling back asleep. The feeling of his soft breaths against your skin makes you smile, and you feel yourself falling more in love with every one of them. 

He wakes you up hours later with gentle kisses and the promise of pancakes, making you giggle with the way his moustache tickles your chin. When you find him in the kitchen later he seems more chipper than usual, smelling like a bakery and humming softly while setting the table for two. He greets you with a sweet kiss and pulls out your chair for you before sitting down in his own. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you ask playfully, and he smiles wide behind his glasses that you’d finally convinced him he needed. Beautiful man, you can't help but think. 

"Just wanted to do something nice for my girl," he answers with his mouth full and you flick a berry at him, which he expertly catches. "Oh so that's how it's gonna be," he puts down his fork and you start to run away, but he is far too quick. He catches you by your waist and pulls you into his chest, licking your cheek obscenely.  

"Frankie, you dog!" you giggle, still fighting his grip.  

"Dogs are cute," he shrugs, seemingly unfazed against you using all your force. He is gentle as anything with you, but he sure likes to show off his strength every once in a while. He lifts you effortlessly off the floor and sets you on the counter. "You think I'm cute?" he wiggles his eyebrows. 

You almost playfully call him insufferable on autopilot, the way you've always bantered since you've known him. But you're aware now how he relies on verbal affirmations, and you've been making a conscious effort of supplying them whenever you can. So instead you hold his face in your palms and tell him that you think he's the most wonderful man in the world, and that you love him more than anything.  

"Baby," he drops his head to your shoulder and sighs. You do this to him, making his heart swell and threaten to burst out of his ribs. He doesn't have the words, doesn't know how to tell you he feels like the luckiest man in the world every morning when he wakes up next to you, every time he hears your voice or feels your palm in his. He doesn't know how to tell you you've been his anchor and his best friend, or how he can't believe he gets to have this kind of domestic bliss at all. "Baby," he repeats, "I love you." 

You try to deepen the kiss he initiates, but he pulls back and tells you he has plans for the day, telling you to get dressed for something outdoors. You feel a rush of happiness at the thought of him feeling more and more like himself with every day that passes, picking up old habits and finding joy in them. You kiss his cheek and run off to get dressed, beyond excited to see what he had planned. 

The ride to the field is longer than you expected. Frankie has turned the radio on and it plays softly in the background as you two talk occasionally. It’s a calm morning, with the perfect weather that's neither too cold nor too warm. He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it softly once he's parked, and then he hops out and opens your door for you. 

"Such a gentleman," you tease. 

"Yeah," is all he says before he's kissing you breathless against the truck. It takes you by surprise, but it's far from unwelcome. 

Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and you can tell it takes a special amount of effort for him to pull away from you, his hands still holding you close as he pulls on yours and leads you deeper into the field. The grass is high enough to tickle your ankles, and the whisper of it against your skin feels wonderful. He slows down, the pace leisurely enough for you to appreciate the wildflowers growing around you. He’s careful not to step on any, and you're struck once again by the multitudes that exist within this one man. The same man who has confessed to sins you could never have thought him capable of, now so careful with a thing as gentle as a dandelion. You think about his hand that is so gentle in yours, and the memory of it firmly wrapping around your throat as he does unspeakable things to you makes you blush, and you will yourself to come back to the present.  

Frankie has led you to a tree, and you notice a tree house resting on the sturdier branches. It’s new, you realize, and look at him quizzically. 

"Remember how I was supposed to pick up new hobbies?" he says sheepishly, gently leading you around to the other side where you see wooden footrests leading up. He urges you to climb up, and you are still so surprised that you can only obey. 

"I thought you'd like this," he's saying. "It can be our secret place, we come here whenever we want. Not that we don't already have a home and privacy but I thought this could be nice to have. Like a little getaway close to home." He's rambling now, as you notice all the fine details he has paid attention to in the construction of it. 

"Honey? Do you like it?" he asks when you've been too quiet. 

"Do I like it?" you ask incredulously. "Francisco Morales, this is amazing!" 

He immediately breaks into a wide grin, and you can see that he is proud of himself. He looks almost like an eager child, and you love the way his eyes shine in that moment. 

"There's one more thing," he leads you to a small opening in the wall that serves as a window. You can see the clear sky and the field stretching out under you, and the cool breeze feels like a gentle caress. It's a beautiful view, and you lose yourself in the sights and smells for a moment. 

"So am I looking at something specific?" you ask, wondering what it was he wanted to show you.  

He doesn't answer, though, and you turn around to repeat the question. The sight that meets you nearly knocks you off your feet, and you cover your gasp with your hand. 

Frankie is on one knee, hat resting by his feet and hand extended, holding the most gorgeous ring you have ever laid eyes on. You might be biased, but you couldn't care less. 

"Darling, I-" he starts, but you don't have the self control that he apparently does, and you throw your arms around him. 

He wraps tightly around you, only letting you have enough room to look up and kiss him. And god do you kiss him. You kiss him like he has never been kissed before, like you could pour every ounce of affection you have for him into that one moment, needing him as close to you as possible. 

You don't realise you're crying until he kisses the tears off your cheeks, and then he lifts your hand and slides the ring on. 

•••• 

The fourth time comes that night, after you've spent your day in the field, holding on to each other and bursting with mutual joy. 

He sits you down on the bed, and kneels in front of you, kissing your shoulders gently. "Hey, Mrs. Morales," he smiles as he says it, even as he's biting the soft skin at your clavicle. 

You laugh, telling him that’s not how engagement rings work. He only grins against your skin and bites harder. 

You scratch his head and he purrs, lifting his head briefly to give you a sweet kiss before he's pushing you to lie down. Let me take care of you, honey, he whispers. Then his hands are on your waist and his mouth is on your chest, making you writhe in place. He kisses and sucks and bites, making sure to give every part of you equal attention. So beautiful, he's talking almost to himself as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down to your tummy.  

His hands meanwhile touch and grab and smooth over any part they can reach, moving as if of their own volition. He knows your body so well that he can map it with his eyes closed, can recognize it with his last breaths. He reaches your cunt and pulls you closer, closer, inhaling deeply and groaning like he's hardly staying in control. 

With the same patience he had displayed earlier in the day he teases you mercilessly, kissing around where you need him most. You pull on his hair and he tuts and bites your thigh. What did I say, baby - a flick of his tongue against you - let me take care of you. You whine petulantly, and he tells you to be a good girl for him. He even says please, the asshole. 

The first lick against your clit comes at the same time as his finger pushes into you, and it takes everything you have not to lift off the bed. So wet for me, he moans against you, the vibration making your pleasure amplify. You fist the sheets around you, telling him how fucking good he's making you feel, how good he always makes you feel. The praise fuels him on and he pushes two more fingers into you at the same time. 

You are so full and so stimulated with his tongue incessant against your clit, and he has no plans of letting up. You feel your orgasm hit you quick and hard, and you can barely warn him before you're gushing, soaking his face and trying to pull away from the overstimulation. 

He looks up at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He licks you clean until you're begging him to stop, and then he patiently kisses his way back up your body. 

"That was... that was amazing," you're out of breath as you say it, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in to taste yourself. 

"Oh honey," he coos. "I've barely started." 

•••

fin.

Tagging some lovely mutuals whom I love and who are amazing writers: @disgruntledspacedad @pedropascaldice @frannyzooey. Please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future (if there is a future) ❤️

[pa-panda-heroes]

blue hour.

demon!au!dabi x reader nsfw; find the sequel here

Inspired (sorta) by this post. This was initially a 400 followers celebration fic but took so long I got to 500, plus it’s Halloween!! 🎃🎃🎃

i listened to Mothica’s song Blue Hour while i wrote this and honestly fell in love with it. hence the name! please go give her a listen!

Minors, go away. This content is not for you.

Warnings: brief description of kidnapping, tiny mentions of religion (nonspecified tho!) and human sacrifice, injury + blood mention, foul language, brief cremation, Dabi being horny (hehe), Dabi absolutely 100% not using magic on you nope, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, degradation?, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification if you squint?

Words: 14k+

Summary: Kidnapped and held as an offering to an ominous demon, you thought your death was near. Soon enough you find your captor dead and the demon you were offered to becomes your savior. Dabi clearly has plans for you, but what are they? Or was everything just a dream?

Your heartbeat thrummed within your ears, sweat sweltering and becoming a thick layer on your skin all over, making the fabric of your clothes cling to it ever-so-uncomfortably. It felt like you were being smothered from head to toe in fabric. The cooled blood that began just above your temple and trickled all the way down your face and neck had dried by now, acting as a crusty reminder of the reason behind the throbbing in your head. Trees swayed in the chilly winds that passed, making the cool air even colder - yet here you were, sweating like there was no tomorrow. You were bound by the wrists and ankles to a musty wooden pole in a forest you’d never seen before, the sky dark yet bright for the blue moon. The stars looked so free, so beautiful, so serene tonight. Yet you didn’t feel it.

Your breathing was quick, panicked, and hurried to the extent that you’d take in more oxygen by breathing less. Your poor, puffy lip was numb from having been chewed on so much, to the point where you couldn’t remember whether you were a chronic lip biter or not; but you sure were, now. That is, until he gagged you by tying an old handkerchief around your face. You struggled against your scratchy, dry restraints so much, they began to dig into your skin and bleed, sending a trail of blood down your arms and a jolt of burning, throbbing, stinging pain through your nerves.

You were far from alone.  

The only other human body you knew of was the one who put you in the position you currently find yourself in after a night of dancing, booze, and sweat. The inebriation from the alcohol made you an easy target, you guessed. God damn it all.

The night began with your celebrating a friend’s birthday at a club, drinking, dancing, and making merry. You had regretted agreeing to go at first after having a long, agonizingly tiring day at work, which gave you the burning desire to wrap up after a bath and lay in bed until the next day when you’d have to get up again. But as the night progressed, you were glad you tagged along; after all, it was an unexpectedly nice release after a bad day.  

Now you were regretting it again.

If only you hadn’t gone to the club.  

If only hadn’t agreed even if begrudgingly to go.

If only you hadn’t left your apartment.  

You made the mistake of trying to find a bathroom on your own and ended up in an alleyway. The last thing you saw was a filthy dumpster before it all went black, and upon waking you found yourself bound in this horrifying forest.

Around you was a circular dirt clearing bordered with a solid line and filled with various marks made upon it, ones that you’d never seen before. They looked to be of a lost, long-dead language - the language your masked captor was evidently speaking as he sat on his knees with his hands in the air before a makeshift altar of a sort. There was some distance between him and the altar, probably about two meters, that being the same distance he sat from you as you watched in horror.  

He was going to kill you, but not before torturing you - or other things. For some hideous purposes that looked a lot to do with a demon or something. All because you were a virgin that just so happened to cross his path.

You tried making noises, tried screaming, but it made no difference. He wouldn’t stop his hideous chanting and no one could hear you anyway. The thick forest swallowed your every scream and the gag held back your every cry. More tears run down your cheeks at your predicament, your struggling against your binds only digging into and stinging your skin as piping hot blood continued to trail down your tender wrists and ankles. It felt like frostbite was setting in. Was it actually, or was it your nerves? 

A pillar of black smoke began to rise from the ground in front of your masked captor, who then bowed with his forehead to the ground. Your own heart was beating in your ears so quickly you thought it would explode any minute. If only it would - you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer. 

“What... the hell do you want?” you hear a voice boom, distorted in such a way that made it sound like it echoed a thousand times. “Filthy human.” 

“Your favor, my lord. I offer you this virgin.”

You try screaming again, your throat beginning to feel scratchy and dry. It almost felt like it was bleeding. Could it be bleeding? Your mind was almost a haze, now. 

You can see a form emerge from the ground where the black smoke stands, and you’re stunned and scared into total silence as you see the silhouette of two large wings and a pointed tail. Other than that, the silhouette appears mostly human. But it’s not.

“My favor, eh?” you hear the voice again. The silhouette swings his arm and with it vanishes the smoke, and the reality that this... thing isn’t human finally settles in your heart. His hair is black and spiky, there are pieces of what look to be burnt flesh under his minty eyes and the lower half of his face, bound to the unblemished skin by silvery staples that seemed to spit steam. Three dotted piercings adorned his nose, and plenty more his ears. His wings reminded you of a bird’s with feathers and all, and they were a flat charcoal in colour, albeit they seemed a little worse for wear and severely burnt. The demon’s horns poked out from each side of his forehead and curled around like that of a ram’s. He wore a dark, simple cloak.  

You almost wondered if he had goat hooves for feet.

He looks down on the human who summoned him, literally and figuratively, it seemed. His eyes narrow viciously at the man, before jolting to you - and you, honest to all that exists, feel what you can only think of as a bolt of lightning course through every nerve - no, cell - of your body before it feels like your heart stops beating. You can feel the blood coursing in your veins, and it’s ice-cold, all of this forcing you to tense every muscle you’re able. He looks away and you’re instantly back to normal, slouching in your restraints.  

“Is this asshole bothering you, little one?” the voice of what’s clearly a demon rings.

“I-I beg your pardon, m’lord Dabi?” 

“Shut your trap, moron.” Clusters of the brightest, bluest flames you’d ever seen erupt above each of the demon’s eyes and he leans downward to grab the man by his neck, before easily lifting him in the air as the human choked. “Y’know, back in the day, sacrifices in some cultures were an honor. It was seen as a gift, a way to serve ancient -  nonexistent, mind you -  gods. People vied to become a sacrificial lamb. I’m ancient, too, you know that.”

The human man stammers and stutters, trying to say something coherent but failing out of fear.  

Dabi lets the man rest his feet on the ground as he jerks your captor to look at you, and you want to just shrink into yourself. “What the fuck is that, huh? Do you see the fear in her eyes? The bruises covering her body? The blood seeping down her arms as she fights against that rope? Does that look like a willing sacrifice to you? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think she is willing at all.”

You blink. What? How? Why?

“You piss me off.”

Dabi throws the masked man to the ground away from him, then raising his palm into the air and summoning flames to filter out of the ground. They swallow him hole, and whilst he’s screaming in agony and burning alive, the demon turns on his heel and saunters your way. “Well, this is quite a mess, eh, dear?” His eyebrows are pointed upward, almost as if the gentle tone behind his words is sincere, yet almost as if there is deviance behind them.

You can’t help but gulp at the look in his eyes. Smile and arch his brows as he might, he was still clearly a demon unfitting of your trust. Right? He was going to hurt you. Surely.

His hands reach up for your face and you shut your eyes tight and turn away.

Much to your surprise, fingers work away at the handkerchief splitting open your poor, stretched, and saliva-coated lips, and you nearly gasp at the relief of pressure on them, the ache in your cheeks quite apparent and downright agonizing. Not only that, but the corners of your mouth were rubbed raw, and you weren’t sure if there was saliva mixing with more saliva, or blood mixing with saliva at the site. Dabi drags a finger from the corner of your mouth up to your cheek to wipe away the tears staining your skin, and you have no strength to fight the shiver that runs up your spine as your eyes fall half-lidded.

“Fuck me, you’re lookin’ a bit worse for wear, little one,” you hear him coo. “Easy, babe. You’re alright. That ugly, scary man’s all gone.” He seems to chuckle at the irony, before a toothy smirk splits his lips. His teeth are sharp, certainly enough to puncture skin without much effort, and you shiver again.

You’re quickly relieved of your bounds, but with the little strength you have left, you’re not able to stand on your own and collapse into his chest, spent and sore. He’s warm. It’s... nice. Fuzzy. Cloudy. Soft. Where are you, again? What’s going on? Why is everything spinning?

Everything fades to black.

:·•·:

You groan and turn over in your bed, pulling the fluffy covers up closer to your head as your body ached. You were warm and settled in, nothing could make you leave the comforts of your bed, yet you knew you needed to. To explain the achy joints, you tried reminiscing the night before. You remembered that night. Parts of it, anyway. When you tried to remember the feeling of being bound or the blood trickling down your wrists, nothing came up. When you tried remembering the chanting of your captor - nothing. It seemed that any parts which could be deemed... unsavory were gone from your memory. You brought your wrists up and felt around them and-

Also gone were any wounds.

It was odd. You could remember it all happening, but at the same time, you couldn’t. Must’ve been some whacked out dream induced by the alcohol.

You had no want to, but you sat up in bed and reached over to your nightstand to switch he clock around so you could see it. It read about half an hour after midday, and you sighed. How long were you asleep? You picked up your phone from the nightstand and switched it on, your heart leaping into your throat at the amount of notifications. Texts, emails, calls, there were dozens upon dozens of them.

“How long was I asleep?!” you shriek.

“Enough to nearly get evicted.”

Your head jolts up so quickly you hear your neck crack, and you see the demon leaning against the wall in front of your bed. You can’t help but gasp and scoot away, your back banging against the headboard of your bed. It wasn’t a dream.

He waves his hand lazily. “But don’t worry, I got it covered. Congrats, you have free rent for life, now.” His wings, horns, and tail are all gone, and he almost looks human, save for the staples and scars. You guess he can’t change his appearance much. Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

The teeth showing off from his smirk look just as sharp as before, however.

Your eyes are drawn to the huggies piercing the cartilage of his ears. They’re as shiny and plentiful as you remember. Your heart rate spikes, and you begin to breathe heavily.

“That soreness is probably from you bein’ out so long, sweets,” he comments, arms crossed in front of his chest, his right ankle also crossed over his left. His voice is smooth and a clear attempt at comforting you - yet there’s something behind it.

“Th-thank you. For saving me, and... the rent... I guess.” You hoped he would leave if you thanked him. Why else would he stick around?

He only shrugs, though. “Sorry, little one, but you’re not special. That sacrifice wasn’t done right in the first place.”

‘Ouch!’

Ah, you remembered that, now. But you couldn’t remember his name.

“What’s your name?” you ask hesitantly. He’s obviously not going to kill you by now. Why would he stick around?

“Dabi.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head. You were surprised at how... nonchalant you were beginning to feel about this. The longer he stood there, the more it felt normal.

“That’s it, dollface.”

:·•·:

He ended up not having goat hooves for feet.

You knew there was a catch to being saved by that demonic bastard.

Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone, keeping a demon cooped up in your apartment wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t easy when said demon was constantly on your heels, pressed right up against your back. Personal space was not in his vocabulary. Dabi was constantly up to something, and he loved to harass or scare your neighbors with his devilish form; it was just too easy. “What else have I got to do while you’re gone all day?” he’d say. “Gotta entertain myself, somehow, doll.”

Apparently, it had been a long time since someone had summoned him at all, let alone with an offering of some kind. He hadn’t seen the mortal realm in hundreds of years, and because you were offered to him, he decided to stick around you. You only agreed to it as long as he never left your apartment.

Well, technically. He wasn’t actually giving you a choice, he was going to stick around anyway. Dabi so loved giving innocent mortals the impression that they were in control when they never truly were. The demon practically got off on the idea of giving a helpless little thing like you a false sense of security.

Having him essentially stuck to your hip, you couldn’t let him cause any trouble with the human world, be it harmless pranks or downright murder; hence why you left a line of salt in front of every opening to your place one day, to keep him home. He was a curious demon, a sketchy one.

And a bit of a horny one, at that.

If the groping or peeking in on your showers wasn’t enough of a clue, the fact that he did everything else in his power to seduce you certainly was.

Demons don’t sleep. They’re immortal, they don’t need to. Yet, as you lay snuggled up in your bed at night, he always snuck in with you to poke and prod at you, the exchange usually ending with you kicking him out of bed - sometimes literally. Other times, he’d randomly lean into your ear and say the filthiest things you’d ever heard - and then some, obviously - to get a rise out of you, giving him the opportunity to tease you about unconsciously clenching your thighs, whether it was for friction or out of denial.

You were starting to think he was a damn incubus.

But no, he denied that. He looked almost insulted when you made the insinuation before explaining that incubi and succubi are one and the same, changing back and forth between male and female. First as a succubus, the demon collects... “seed,” and then transforms into an incubus to “plant” it. He could change his physical appearance if he so wished, but he never had much want or need to, save for hiding away or using his devilish form; nor could he procreate, he was so proud to tell you.

It seemed the fact that you were a virgin only spurred him on to seduce you. With Dabi being the vile and damned being that he is, you thought he wouldn’t give a damn (ha) if you consented or not at first. The thought was honestly horrifying. Yet not once had he forced you or went too far. It was “poor taste,” he once said, there being no fun in it. You wondered if his rule of consenting sacrifices played a part in his discipline.

And of course, Dabi would go on about how badly he, a demon, an unsavory being to say the least, wanted to be the one to take your virginity and “defile” you, “the pure, innocent treat that you are.”

Defile? Really?

And treat?

‘Pick better wording next time you sex-starved, pointy-tail-having, staple-wearing, horned son of a bitch,’ you thought sarcastically, shoving dishes into their proper places after having dried them. He’d left you alone for most of the day, talking to you and treating you like he was a normal human being. ‘Then, maybe I’d consider letting you get your dick wet.’

Would you, though?

Nah...

Right.

One of the plates was a little wet still, and managed to slip out of your hand and shatter on the counter in front of you. You yelped when a shard cut into your palm after you’d instinctively reached to catch the plate, failing miserably. “Dammit,” you mutter, holding your left hand up to inspect the cut. From the looks of it, no stitches were needed, but it still stung like hell.

You should’ve known better than to think he cooled his jets for the day, because in an instant he’s standing next to your left side and reaching for your wrist.

“It’s fine, just a tiny cut,” you mutter, quirking a brow as he seemingly glares at the wound. “I think I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere... Have to keep it clean, at least.”

“Nah, don’t need it,” he mutters, before pulling your hand toward his mouth. His tongue slithers out from between his lips and drags along the cut in your palm, the wet appendage searing against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation, and yet another soars when you see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes, which are fixed on your wound. You can’t help the gulp that sounds from your tight throat, or the yelp that fights out of your lips when his whole mouth latches onto the fatty part of your thumb where the cut is. Your knees begin to feel weak and your eyes fall half-lidded.

Dabi sucks on the flesh there, licking the wound occasionally as well. His eyes then flicker to yours, and they burn into you like no other ever has. You feel the heat of a blush trail up your neck and to your cheeks and ears, your heart thrumming in your chest and lips slowly falling open just a tad as he licks away at the opening in your skin.

“Ah-“

The demon pulls away with a pop from one final suck of your flesh, whilst a trail of his saliva - do demons have saliva?! - hung between your hand and his mouth. “See? Take a look.” He pushes your hand towards your view, and amidst the clear wetness on your skin, you see no wound at all.

Your mind flips back to the wounds you should have had from that night.

“Back then... did you... y’know...”

“Naah. There’s spells and the like for bigger stuff like that,” he explains nonchalantly with a shrug. He almost seems proud of himself with his next line. “Tiny paper cuts like this can be taken care of with good ol’ fashioned demon spit. It’s nice, huh?”

You deadpan at him. “No, it’s totally gross.”

Dabi chuckles at you, waving a hand as if to wave you off. “Admit it. Your virgin ass enjoyed it.” His words are crass, but you know he’s only teasing and they’re not meant to insult.

Yet it still riles you up.

That heat crawls up your neck again, and you huff at him. “Shut up!” you gripe, then turning away from him to at least try to clean up the dish shards. There was nothing wrong with being a virgin! A lot of people wait for the right person, or they just aren’t ready. People have their reasons, and there’s no shame in it! Just like there’s no shame in being the opposite. As long as it’s healthy, that’s all that matters!

“Jerk! You seem to forget whose apartment you’re squatting in!” you grumble, scooting the pieces of the plate you broke together - ever so gently - with a washcloth from the sink. “I could kick you out, y’know.” You forgot for a short moment that he managed to achieve free rent for life for you, but you told yourself it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was still your apartment, after all.

“Really, now?” The demon scoffs, then leaning against the counter and crossing his arms - clearly at you. “How would you go about that, little mouse?” His tone is unconvinced and sultry, the look on his face painted with doubt.

You avoided eye contact with him and perused the kitchen for a plastic bag before marching back to the mess of plate shards and trying to sweep them off the counter and into the bag. “I’d exorcise you,” you mutter. Finding a priest in this area would prove difficult, but you could manage to find one willing to travel. You could do it if needed.

Dabi only laughs you off, though. The sound is smooth and velvety, yet you’re left to describe it as littered with smoke and ecstasy. “C’mon, doll! That wouldn’t work,” he says finally. “Besides, we both know you don’t wanna do that. You like havin’ my sorry ass around too much, eh?”

“Ha! You’re right about you being a sorry ass,” you sass with a huff before tossing the bag into the waste-bin.

Oddly enough, while you’d never tell Dabi this and end up stroking his already massive ego, you felt safer with him around. It was hard to pinpoint why. Nothing had happened for him to be called to protect you; however, you lived in a less than savory part of town, which wasn’t entirely unbearable, but shit still happens. And you’ve already been abducted once, leading to your acquaintance with this horny (I’m more ways than one) asshole. Maybe it was because you knew part of what he can do, all that aside. Push comes to shove, he’d protect you, right?

That was a nice thought to have, if a bit naive, you thought.

He was a demon, not a guardian angel of some sort. He had no obligations to you.

Yet here he was, still living with you over a month after that awful night.

Your thoughts are completely swept away when you’re pushed by the hips against the counter with your back to it, your hands instinctively bracing the edge on each side of your hips for support. The demon’s face is immediately in front of yours, his breath easily filling your nostrils with an ashen smell. You see those horns of his again and have to fight the urge to reach up and grab one, maybe even give it a tug. He’d probably cremate you for it.

Could he hear your thoughts? Previous instances somewhat insinuated that he could, but he never admitted to it - or denied it.

Dabi was right. You don’t want to get rid of him. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that. There is an intensity in those half-lidded, fiery eyes of his that has never before been directed at you by anyone, and it leaves you wishing you could read his thoughts. Are his eyes merely looking at your own, or are they bearing into your soul, calculating and appraising it?

What you can tell is that it’s full of impatience and want. Greed. Lust. And so much of it all.

You tilt your chin down a bit and look up at him with a gulp quietly. You can’t think of anything to say, and tension builds within your chest as you search; you feel as if that silence ought to be filled, yet here you are, at a loss for words as you stare at your own reflection in his glossy eyes. On the other hand, he seems totally content letting you lie in it, letting you squirm for him as he smirks.

And so you look away, bringing your hands to your chest and holding them there bashfully. The sleeves of your sweater are soft and warm and plush - just how Dabi would describe you right now.

This maneuver of yours not being what he wanted, Dabi scowls a bit and grabs your chin to essentially force you to look at him, his thumb ghosting over the softness of your lower lip. He tilts his head at you almost curiously, perhaps evaluating your reaction as it’s been so long since he has seen or felt the mortal world. Those eyes narrow at you, though not out of ire. Dabi’s thumb pokes at the crevice between your lips, and the rest of his fingers on your jaw tug downward.

Confused, you comply anyway and part your lips for him, only for his thumb to invade your mouth and press hard on your tongue, coaxing you to gag and instinctively grasp both hands on his wrist. You attempt to pull it away, to relieve the pressure in your mouth, but he doesn’t want that.

Hell, in reality, neither do you. You just don’t feel like gagging and clouding your vision with tears.

Aw, you poor dear.

With a contemplative hum he pulls his appendage out of your mouth and holds it not far from your mouth, as if planning another venture into your wet cavern. You can’t help but stare at the string of saliva still connecting your lips and his hand as it glistens in the low lighting of your kitchenette.

“Open back up for me,” he huskily demands, but it’s not cruel and dictating, so you comply, entranced as if under a spell. But you know you’re not. This time, it’s his forefinger and middle finger that roam between your teeth, and as if he had told you to do so telepathically, you close your lips around them. With an innocent, doll-eyed look, you suck his fingers and lick at them with your tongue, earning yourself hushed praises and a searing trail of touches up your ribcage and back down. You continue to lick away, occasionally wrapping your tongue around his digits or cradling them as you suck on them, coating them in your saliva as some of it trails out one of the corners of your mouth. They feel cold, as if there was a lack of circulation, and it only spurs you on to warm them with the toasty cavern of your mouth and soft plushness of your tongue.

You’re sure you’re less than apt at this, but the praise and touch you’re receiving helps you feel less... off.

Dabi leans in for your ear, his hot breath against your cartilage sending a chill down your spine before his wet tongue laps at it, and you jump in your skin at the burning, completely unknown sensation. It’s so hot it almost stings, but it’s not painful; tingly, maybe. In the process you lean away to your left a bit, at which he seems to pause. But then you lean back as if to tell him to go on, and you can nearly hear the simper he gives just before he latches onto your ear, licking and nibbling away as you tremble and whimper around his fingers. The heat at your core throbs in tandem with your racing heartbeat, creating a melody of your arousal that you hoped only you could witness.

But you knew better than to doubt the senses of a demon.

“You’re doin’ good, doll,” he breathes into your ear, aggravating the sound of blood flushing through your ears and the thump of your heartbeat. “Such a good girl for me...”

The digits in your mouth get a little adventurous and explore your wet cavern a bit, but they’re quick to push down on your tongue again and you gag around them. Tears start to pool within your eyelids and your whimper is stuck in your throat.

The demon then unceremoniously pulls his fingers from your mouth to reach down at the hem of your sweater and yank it up over the swell of your chest, leaving your torso and bra-covered breasts bare. Dabi seems to drink up the sight of you as if it were a sweet wine he hadn’t indulged in for centuries. Both his hands then trail ghostly fingers - really, they felt like spiders - up your belly and to your sternum. You shiver and a mewl fights out of your throat unexpectedly, your back arching unintentionally toward him as you clutch onto his forearms. Dabi lets out a hot breath, just thereafter his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your bra as he grinds his pelvis against yours, the outline of his hardened cock clear as day against you. You don’t even try to fight back the moan it elicits as your head droops back at the stimulation.

Why bother, right?

The inhuman entity before you takes the opportunity to use your open mouth, his own latching into yours and tongue exploring your mouth in a battle for dominance you have absolutely no hope to win as he makes a mushy mess of you. You accidentally lacerate your tongue on the sharp point of one of Dabi’s teeth and flinch a bit, the sting on your tongue nearly coaxing you to pull away while the taste of iron floods your mouths. That tase you could certainly live without only encourages him, as Dabi growls and grips the base of your neck to hold your head in place as he quite metaphorically devours your tongue with his own, before his teeth latch onto your lower lip and you squeak in surprise as he pulls away.

“Aw, what’s’a matter, little mouse?” Dabi taunts, left palm dropping to rub against your clothed sex.

“Ah, Dabi-!” You jolt at the sudden stimulation on your clit and breathe in hard. Even if there are a couple layers keeping his bare hand from touching you, if feels damn good to have someone else touch you like this. Ripples of warmth flood through you and you feel your body temperature rocketing. Your own breath feels as though it’s on fire as it leaves your heavily salivated mouth and bloody lips in rabid succession, alongside your increasingly rapid heartbeat. Your grip on his firm arms tightens and you resist the urge to grind against him as he continues his ministrations. “Fuck...”  Your lips throbbed, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the tiny wounds he created or your blood pressure spiking.

“Hm?” The demon hums, inquisitive and high in pitch - yet maybe condescending. “‘Fuck,’ huh?” His grip on the back of your neck relaxes only slightly before his tongue pokes out of his mouth and drags along your lower lip, lapping away at the blood pooling there and drawing a slight whine from you. “What about it? You sayin’ you want me to fuck you, doll? Tell me.”

Blood rushes to your face like there was a race and your eyes wander from his bashfully, instead choosing to look at the horns cutting through his spiky black hair. He’s right, you do, you have to admit it. But admitting it out loud was embarrassing! With a gulp you elect to simply nod, but his brows furrow and he’s clearly unimpressed considering the animalistic growl that claws out of his throat.

“Hey, I’ve been locked away from you humans for so long, y’know,” he breathes, his voice dark and low. “I’m a bit behind on gestures. You have to tell me.” This time, you can tell by the almost playful tone of his voice that he’s really lying and just trying to make you admit it aloud. Dabi’s palm leaves you before moving up to the waistband of your jeans while his other hand snakes up your neck and latches onto a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, say it. Where’s all that spunk from earlier? You’re all bark and no bite, little one.”

“Y-yes, Dabi. I... I want you to fuck me.” You finally meet his eyes again, and the hunger in them from before hasn’t faded at all; it’s only deepened. What else has changed was the hunger and arousal in your own eyes.

That smirk appears again and Dabi leans into your ear. “You want me to fuck you,” he parrots, “do you? You want my demon cock to take your virginity and fill you up? You want me to fuck you against this counter until your voice gives out? You’re a slut after all, little one. Beg like one, then.”

Your thighs clench together and you gulp. This was... not how you fantasized your first time to carry out. “Demon cock” was not something you’d ever thought you would hear someone say.

But who cares? Not you.

“Yes, please. Please!” You tug at his jacket in an attempt to coax him toward you, your knuckles turning white from your grip. “Please, fuck me with your demon cock...” Your this time voice is less loud and demanding, albeit it’s more desperate and pleading. “Please.” Your voice breaks this time.

Nor was it something you thought you would ever say.

A groan rumbles from Dabi’s chest. “Good little human. Keep it up, yeah?”

You squeak as he roughly yanks your sweater over your head before working to unbutton your jeans, his lips and teeth savoring your neck all the while. Your head cranes back again, a mute gasp leaving you at the sensation of his searing tongue on your recently sweat-slicked neck as his fingers work to remove your bra before they move onto yanking your panties down. At least, you thought he yanked them down, but a quick glance to the floor revealed he ripped them off, rendering them unusable.

“I liked those!” you whine, still panting.

“Tough luck. I didn’t.” It’s not like you need to wear panties around him anyway. He’d burn every pair you owned to mere ashes if it meant getting you to waltz around your apartment with no panties. They just got in the way.

“Daabi! Why would you-

“Oh god!”

You jump and thrust against Dabi’s hand when his fingers run through the slick of your soaked cunt, your breathing ragged, while he gathers the slick abundant there and edges toward your clit. His tactic coaxes ripples of pleasure that lull a low moan out of you.

“Ha,” he scoffs in your ear, “no gods have anything to do with it, babydoll.”

Dabi’s fingers finally work their way to your clit and circle around it a few times before rubbing in a steady rhythm around it. You moan at the combination of the bliss he gives you and the pet name, and your legs instinctively open wider for him as you mewl.

“I’m really not sure you are a virgin, doll,” he starts with a chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ soaked, you know that? Like a slut begging for my dick.”

“D-Dabi!” You flinch at the sinful words he’s spitting at you, embarrassed.

The demon’s digits leave your clit and trail back through your folds, and the wet, lewd sounds that result almost surprise you more than the fact that you want to fuck a demon. You buck your hips in hopes of encouraging his fingers back to your clit, albeit his other hand distracts you with a flick to your nipple, before it rubs circles over the sensitive nub as the rest of his hand palms at your tit.

“Ah, feels so good,” you find yourself muttering.

In response his ear seems to twitch. “Speak up.” His lips are sucking and nipping at your neck, either ignoring or enjoying the layer of sweat built up on your skin as the heat coming from his body begins to overwhelm you. Not that you mind either way. He’s definitely leaving a mark here and there as he works around your neck. Not that you mind either way.

“Your fingers... ah, feel so good!” Your head cranes backward, your hands dropping to the counter against your ass for support as your legs begin to feel weak. The shockwaves of pleasure his hands send through your nerves leaves you feeling weak and mushy.

“Good. Now hold still.”

You give a confused look, eyebrows pointed upward before you feel the tip of his digit poke at your weeping hole, eliciting a loud gasp from you when his finger plunges into your pussy with no reserve. You hiss at the sudden intrusion, you walls stretching pleasurably yet painfully as he slowly moves his finger around, letting you adjust. His other hand merely plays with your breast.

Biting your lip, you lean forward and plant your sweaty, flushed forehead on his shoulder. “Hey, it kinda hurts,” you whine.

“Just relax, doll.” Dabi’s voice isn’t as crass as it was before, nor is it entirely soothing. You figure he just doesn’t have it in him to coddle you, being a demon and all that.

You whimper as Dabi ever so slowly thrusts his finger in and out, the mixture of pleasure and pain not at all what you’d expected. When his finger hits a spongy spot, you jolt and moan for him, and he takes the opportunity to take over your mouth again in a wet, hurried kiss with a groan. Dabi swallows any and all sounds that you make, and in the process you feel the hand on your tit move downward to your hip before it swings around and wraps under your thigh to lift your knee up to his hip level. The muscles of your legs tensing and the choked moan in your throat tell him the pain is starting to very slowly fade away. At the realization, he carefully dips another finger into you and you moan, higher in pitch, into his mouth before he pulls away to stare at the sight of his fingers fucking into you for only a short moment. Dabi is then quick to shove his tongue back into your salivating mouth.

The lithe digits within your wet walls pick up pace gradually, giving you time to adjust and not barreling into you. By now there is still a barely-there stretch, and all the pain has essentially faded as the assault on your nerves takes place and you near an orgasm. Your eyes lull shut and your head cranes back, your hips almost thrusting involuntarily on his fingers as his pace keeps increasing and pushing you over the edge.

“I’m- ah, I think I’m...”

Dabi hums as if requesting you repeat yourself or perhaps simply acknowledging your sputtering, but you’re too busy moaning louder and and thrusting into the palm of his hand, to do so, as the coil between your legs tightens. His fingers graze over that same spot as before and you cry out for him, for which his fingers increase their pace even more rapidly and slam into that spot over and over and over again as he groans at the lewd, wet squelching resulting.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum, Dabi, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it. Cum for me, babydoll.” His voice is much more authoritative and huskier, and as per Dabi’s demand you cry out almost loud enough for your neighbors to hear as your orgasm slams into you like a tsunami of pleasure crashing into your nerves. Your soft, hot walls convulse around his fingers in your release as he uses them to fuck you through your first orgasm of the night, with your hips still thrusting toward him uncontrollably as you go through your high and begin to climb down, panting.

Your head feels light in the best way possible and your legs are weak, so you whine lowly as he pulls his fingers from your heat with a pleased sigh. The second your legs give out, he catches you by the ribs before grabbing your trembling hips and lifting you onto the counter, with you latching onto him and holding tight all the while, your forehead on his shoulder and arms around his neck while your legs wrap around his hips.

Dabi drags the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, sending a jolt of calming, electric waves up your spinal cord as he repeatedly kisses your hair and ear on the side accessible to him.

“Atta girl,” he mutters into your hair.

Do you... thank him? He’s giving you a compliment, after all, right? Do you nod? Do you hum? You have the energy to do all three, but what response does he expect of you?

“I didn’t... do anything,” you mutter quietly, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Technically. Doesn’t matter because you will, soon.” He leans into your ear like he’s so fond of doing, his lips grazing your earlobe. “We’re not done, doll.”

Your legs twitch around him unconsciously, eliciting a deep, amused chuckle from the demon.

You see pointed pearly whites bear at you before he lifts you off the countertop and plops you down in front of him. Dabi’s hand squeezes your ass cheek, said hand then spinning you around to put your back to his chest. Searing breath on the back of your ear makes it twitch. “You’re wet and all, doll, but I’m not sure you’re wet enough,” he taunts, his hands splaying out on your abdomen and gently roaming around, fingers spread wide as they adore your body.

“For what?” Dabi’s chest against your back prevents you from turning around and giving him a confused look.

“My cock. What else?” he jabs.

Your curt reply is totally cut off and forgotten when you feel a wet tongue singe the side of your neck toward the back, and you gasp shakily.

“What to do, what to do...?” you hear Dabi whisper into your now-pebbled skin, his hands ghosting down toward your thighs.

“Oh.”

Remaining silent yourself, you could feel the damn lightbulb light up in the bastard’s horned head, but you didn’t know what exactly would entail.

Before you can ask what the hell he was on about, his fingers drove between your glistening  folds and prod around, as if measuring the lewd slick settling there. They quickly pull away after a quick hum from Dabi.

“Be a good little human and bend over, yeah?”

Without a word or thought against it you comply, bending over your countertop and leaning on your elbows a little. You gulp at the thought of your leaking cunt bearing for Dabi. You weren’t sure what he could see from this position, but you were a little embarrassed, nonetheless. With a gulp you shift your weight back and forth on your feet nervously.

Hands rub and palm at your ass cheeks as thumbs rub deeply into your flesh in a symphony of soothing touch. You sigh blissfully and spread your legs for the demon without realizing, but it’s over all too quickly when he instead moves your legs back together. You crane your neck to look at him. “Wha...?”

Wasn’t he going to fuck you from behind?

Suddenly the weeping tip of his cock slips between your thighs, gliding against your dripping cunt and through your folds. There’s no piercing despite his many others, though perhaps that was why he asked you to take him to a parlor not long ago.

Dabi’s cock manages to grace your clit and your body unwillingly jolts a little, still having been sensitive from your previous orgasm. A soft gasp leaves your swollen lips and you hear Dabi growl behind you while he pulls back from your ass end only to jut forward again. Legs beginning to tire out, you unconsciously spread them, only for his hands to push them together roughly.

“Don’t fuckin’ spread ‘em,” he hissed, hips holding still. The fingers on your thighs push deep with force sure to leave bruises while you hiss quietly at the stinging pain they bring to your nerves. But that sensation is quick to fade into something warm and euphoric yet electric and sensitive, causing your head to spin even though he’s not fucking your desperate pussy. He pistons his hips into your ass, and you mewl.

“That’s your last warning, fuck!” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, content with letting him fuck your thighs so long as he keeps grazing your puffy clit like this. His pace quickens and soon enough you hear loud skin slapping against skin, his hips jutting into your ass and balls pattering against the crevice between the soft flesh of your thighs. The quick pace and silkiness of his cock against your clit is euphoric, leaving you to wonder if it would be better than this if he were inside of you. Are you drooling? Your head droops lazily as you revel in pleasure.

The wetness and heat between your legs has increased several-fold, but it’s apparently not enough for Dabi. Your poor body rocks against the counter and your eyes are clenched shut, head fixated on the sensation of his cock grinding against your cunt and between your soft, drenched thighs. You weren’t sure if it was the position or your nerves going haywire, but your legs ached with a dreadful burn.

“D-Daaabi,” you whine pitifully, “my legs... aah, hurt...!”

A hand jumps to your navel and brings you back toward him to allow room for his fingers slithering to your cunt. Before they graze over your clit, they stop. “Cum for me, then,” you hear him command, voice deep and breathy and sending a chill up your spine. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll take you to the bed and fuck you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?”

“Yes, b-but,” you suck in a breath when his hand envelops your tit, “‘maybe?’” You parrot the word desperately, your head going blank as you near orgasm.

“Mhm.” You can hear the smirk in it, and the sound of the hum rumbling in his chest is oddly euphoric for you to hear.

You hated having him behind you like this. All you wanted in the moment was to latch onto him and relish in his heat no matter how intense it would be for a mortal like you. You wanted to touch him, to be able to see him, and he was depriving you of it all - very likely on purpose.

Your moans and squeals get higher in pitch and Dabi evidently picks up on your cues, thrusting against your cunt faster and faster until your entire body tenses.

You cry out his name ever so quietly, yet before you can climax he pulls away and leaves you panting and weeping, a whine escaping your throat. “But you told me...!”

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re a jerk!” you half-gripe and half-whine, standing up to glare at him. “I was so... so close, you know! You better make it up to me!” You huff and puff from the intensity of almost cumming.

“You’re awful feisty when I’m not touching you,” he remarks cockily.

You’re going to regret saying what you said. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes tells you when he spins you around. It’s dark and already you shrink in front of him. The next thing you know, Dabi’s pushing you against the counter and mumbling something into you ear, that something being an incantation that sends a trickle of electricity though every nerve of your body. Suddenly you’re cumming hard as heavy waves of pleasure wrack your cunt clenching around nothing rapidly as whatever the demon used on you pushes you through your orgasm, your toes curling and lips shrieking, head falling back so fast it almost slammed into the cabinet if he hadn’t caught it. You don’t register that you had wrapped your arms around his waist until his hands grasp them as if holding you there.

“How’s that for makin’ it up to you, eh?”

With his voice pulling a moan out of you, your poor brain goes foggy and full and it spins within your skull as you pant away, your body feeling heavy. Dabi grabs hold of you and lifts you onto the countertop when it seems like your legs are going to give out. “Hey,” he mutters into your sweaty neck, “don’t tire out on me. I wanna fill that pussy up with my cum ‘til it’s dripping out.”

You feel heat rush from your heaving chest up your neck to your cheeks. “Stop... that! You pervert.”

Dabi chuckles at you. You weren’t prudish, you were inexperienced. “What? Stop what, hm?”

“Talking like... that.”

He only hums, though, and he’s not to comply with your request. “Ya know, if you weren’t a virgin, I’d take your ass, too. Or put you on your knees and shove my cock down your throat until you’re chokin’ on it. Fuck, you’d sound like an angel.” Dabi chuckles at his ironic comparison, seemingly proud of himself for it.

You shrink in front of him and shiver, the room feeling so cold. You glance at your bedroom door and he notices promptly.

“I’ll carry you, for a price.”

Your eyes flicker back to him and the simper he flashes you would’ve had you weak in the knees had you been standing.

“Like what, my soul?” It’s a slightly genuine, slightly snarky question.

“Your mouth.” Dabi waves a hand at your widened eyes. “Not tonight. Maybe next time. You won’t know up from down and I don’t feel like playing teacher more than I already am.”

The demon doesn’t wait for your snarky remark before he picks you up and lugs you to your bed. You let out a noise when he literally drops you onto the mattress, your form bouncing atop it before he pins you to the bed roughly, so quickly you get dizzy. He dips his hips between your legs and spreads them wide while his mouth delves into the crook of your sweat-coated neck to let him begin suckling and leaving stinging marks with sweet, little kisses peppered in between.

It seems he’s suddenly gone soft on you, but it won’t last, even if you don’t know it.

Your back arches against him, ready to finally feel his torrid body against yours so that you can relish in his warmth despite the fact that your body was soaked in sweat; you wanted so much more, you needed it. Your next moan is dealt without a care who can hear, and thereafter with you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Dabi grabs your hips and squeezes the plump flesh before his hands roam down your thighs to your knees as he hikes your legs around his hips, with you far too eager not to comply.

“Dabi,” you breathe, and he hums with one of his hands still on your hip as the other supports his weight by your shoulder. “Kiss me. Please.” Your voice is desperate and needy, and you’re starting to think this is more than lust pushing you on.

Had he used another demonic spell on you?

When Dabi complies, his hips grind against you to allow his hardened cock to nudge the folds of your glistening pussy.

This time around, with his tongue prodding in your mouth at a slower, more passionate pace, you catch on and realize he has a tongue piercing. Your walls clench at the thought of what it would feel like licking stripes up and down your soaked cunt, wondering whether it would be cool to the touch or searing hot due to his body temperature.

Searing hot would be the answer, though you don’t know that as of now.

The demon grinds against you as he devours your mouth with his own, his weeping cock sliding through your your wet folds. On the other hand you’re careful not to cut your tongue on his teeth again, albeit he wouldn’t complain if you did; if anything he’d encourage it. Your hands splay on his hot back, and you wonder that if leaving them on his searing skin for too long will burn you. If it gave you the opportunity to roam your fingers over his muscles and caress the staples, goddamn would it be worth the burns. With a sigh into his mouth your hands move from his back to grab onto those horns you’d thought about, your grip gentle yet exploring as you try to focus on feeling the rough texture of them.

Dabi pulls away from you to pepper open-mouthed kisses among your jawline, growling all the while. “What’re you doing?” he brusquely asks between the wet gestures, and you croon. His voice was so rough and gravelly while the gestures were soft and... sweet. You almost dare to say it was heavenly.

“Just feelin’ ‘em, babydoll.”

You throw his pet name back at him purposefully, and the mockery elicits a dark chuckle from him. Ever so slowly, you were beginning to learn how to be more brazen. You were getting comfortable with him on this intimate level. You’d already been comfortable in some way with him living forcibly in your apartment for over a month, but not on this level, not like this.

The stapled hand on your leg disappears before it reappears in your hair and gives a pull - not a yank - to tilt your head back and further expose your neck. You expect him to ravage it with his mouth like earlier, but he stopped to admire his apparent handiwork. You can’t see the marks he’s left, albeit he’s apparently satisfied as he smirks.

“What’re you doing?” you mimic him playfully.

“Thinkin’ about how I want you, of course.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In response, you huff at him.

“Let’s see,” he begins, moving closer to you, his breath fanning the lower half of your face as his eyes bore into your soul, “chest up against the wall, or on your hands and knees... hell, maybe just your knees...” He moves down so that his breath reaches just under your jaw, his eyes still staring intensely up at you while his hand slithers to your tit, rolling the hardened bud under his finger and you mewl. “...could always put you in a mating press and fuck you like a bitch in heat... I might even let you get on top, if you’re a good girl. Decisions, decisions, eh?”

“What,” you huff, “you mean, with all that whoring and harassing you did, you never thought this through?” You mirror his smirk with your own quirked brow while you rub the horns on his head, thoroughly enjoying their soft yet rippled texture.

“Oho, that’s the problem, doll. I’ve thought about it too much.” Dabi’s teeth put on a show for you to see from his widening smirk. Next thing you know, his fingers are pinching and tugging your nipple roughly for the first time and you keen under him from the shock before his wet mouth matches onto your other tit, tongue lulling over the bud. You mewl and flick your head back, chest heaving in your panting as you feel him suction onto your plump skin and suck away with a sopping, hot mouth, his low sigh into your skin blissful.

Your hands drop to his shoulders as a result of the distraction his mouth brings. Demonic saliva coats your tit and glistens in what little silvery moonlight filters through your blinds, all while you feel the pull of your leg over his right shoulder and prodding at your weeping heat with the tip of his cock.

“Ya know what?” he murmurs into your skin, “I wanna see these lovely tits of yours bounce.” With his other hand he guides the tip in and gives a moan at how warm and slick the entrance of your cunt is around him. And tight as hell, too. Of all the summons he could’ve answered, he answered the one that, unbeknownst to Dabi, lead to you, just on a whim. And fuck, if it wasn’t worth it.

You whine and writhe underneath him, needy as can be, as your entrance clenches around the head of his cock.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

You groan at him. “Just please hurry up and fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command...” Dabi’s voice is full of tease and mockery, which makes you want to bite his tongue.

Without any warning he sheaths his cock all the way into you as a groan escapes his throat, and you jolt at the sensation of suddenly being so goddamned full, your lustful gasp resonating off the walls of your bedroom. That one hard pump of his hips sends a wave up pleasure through your nervous system and the stretch of your tight walls leaves you wanting more. He’s much longer and thicker than his fingers, and you can’t help your cunt clenching around him like it does. The subconscious movement has Dabi groaning and panting out as you clench on his cock, and he still can’t help but relish in how fucking worth the wait you are.

That stretch of your cunt is back again, sweet and sinful as before. His cock brushes against all the right places, filling you up perfectly and having you drool for more.

Dabi holds still at least, though you can tell it won’t be for long.

“So goddamned tight,” he spits through his teeth against your neck, fighting the demanding of every cell in his body to fuck you like a rabid animal. Dabi’s hot breath fans over your neck, his teeth clenching as a result of your tightness around him.

His hips slowly start pushing and pulling to gently thrust his throbbing cock in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust before he can pick a normal pace.

...is what you thought he would do.

But nay, he begins with slow and agonizingly yet blissfully hard thrusts into your wet core, his grunts being drowned out by your wails and mewls as he slams into your sopping cunt. The lewd sounds of wet skin slapping slowly against skin and hot squelching mixes into it all, creating a melody of sin only you and Dabi share, that only the two of you can hear.

You were definitely going to hell, by now. But hey, good dick seemed worth the eternal damnation. Right?

With one particularly hard thrust, Dabi bites into the crook between your neck and shoulder, unexpectedly not breaking the skin, eliciting a cry from your parched throat and your eyes shut tight. The teeth latching onto your skin feel less sharp and more human, as he’s morphed them not to tear into your flesh and draw blood. He’d never hear the end of it for getting blood on your sheets, he knew that. Besides, if he wasn’t careful it would kill you.

He doesn’t want that happening again. Ugh. That was a godsforsaken mess - literally.

With every pounce of his hips, your tits bounce on your chest like he set out to do and he was sure to take in the sight of it all very well, having waited over a month for it. The smarting pang you felt earlier when his fingers fucked you is completely gone by now, leaving you to writhe and thrust your own hips from the overwhelming fucking of your senses.

“Dabi, Dabi!” you sob, your thoughts blending together until nothing but the demon inside of you remains in your consciousness. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, drawing a thick, black liquid in the deep crescents, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Words, babydoll,” he breathes out, emphasizing the first word with a thrust. “C’mon, you know better.” He groans above you.

A yelp and another, higher in pitch slap of skin resonates within the room amidst the wet, sloppy ones and his grunts, but it doesn’t register that he’s slapped the underside of the thigh perched on his shoulder until you feel the pulsating sting that scatters through your leg. The yelp was apparently yours.

“Faster!” Your voice is devoured by a whiny tone and squeals that fight out of you, but it’s drowned out by the rhythm of his hips against yours.

Another slap hits your senses, and you cry out, tears flooding your eyelids. All you need is a little push.

“So fuckin’ demanding... Where are your manners, little mouse?” His lips are on your ear again, almost as if threateningly. “I’d be a little more... ngh...  polite if I were you.” The covers bunch and roll under your body when it’s slid back against them from the hardest thrust he’s graced you with yet, the process bringing a shriek out of you and shock as a result of his hitting that special spot after angling his hips just right and causing your poor head to spin. With Dabi then yanking you back to where you were with the hand on your thigh above the reddening cloud of flesh, you croon underneath him as he stops fucking your dripping wet heat altogether. You’re left to stare into his fiery blue eyes directly while hot breaths flood out of you in rapid succession. His nose almost touched yours, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re at my mercy, doll. If I don’t want you to cum, you won’t.”

“Nonono, I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’m sorry!”

A cross between a hum and growl leaves his throat, and you shrink underneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“Go faster, please!”

Dabi’s teeth are on your neck again when he picks up his thrusting into you, increasing in speed and fucking your sopping pussy like you had requested. With his hands on your hips, the demon mutters praises and moans into your neck and you sputter incoherent gibberish when you’re not gasping for air and squealing and bawling out from his almost inhuman, blissful pace. The leg wrapped around his waist clenches as hard as you’re physically able as he slams into you, and while your senses are being ravaged and brutalized, you hear faintly those wet squelching noises and the sounds of metal and wood creaking. You weren’t sure if the thrumming in your eardrums was your heartbeat or your headboard hitting the wall, but the thought of the latter rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Dabi angles his hips just right and smacks his cock into that oh-so-special spot within your soft cunt, and the jolt of pleasure and utter bliss that results brings you back to reality momentarily - yet still somehow throwing you out of your mind.

“Right there! Dabi! Oh, fuck!” You sob with a slur, your hands grasping and clawing at his back desperately. Incoherent garbling follows thereafter, and Dabi doesn’t even try to decipher it even if it is silk against his ears.

The fingers gripping onto your hips are so tightly embedded into your skin, Dabi’s sure they will leave round little bruises in their wake and he relishes in the idea, but the sting they bring you feels so damned good, you welcome it, too. The tension that builds within your cunt keeps building and building, your hot walls clenching around Dabi as you near carnal release. You’re close, so fucking close to the height of true bliss, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch as your back lifts off the mattress without you willing it. You feel that familiar tingle before-

It stops.

You sob at the utter emptiness and lack of release, your head spinning.

The ancient bastard denied you of your orgasm.

Chest heaving up and down in your panting, your wordless whine and protest at the emptiness you can feel is seemingly ignored by Dabi. The lack of warmth at your pulsating core is almost... cold. So cold.

“Wh-why...?” you whine.

The demon lets out a breathy groan. You can feel him dip his lips to your collarbone and smirk. “Just ‘cause.”

Quickly the demon sits back on his haunches and your arms droop off his shoulders. Dabi blinks at you with his hand holding your ankle to his shoulder, all the while staring you down with an intensity that has you feeling small, like an ant before an elephant. You’re so vulnerable and naked under his unwavering gaze, it’s nearly frightening. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It’s soft but it’s predatory. He drinks in the sight of you leisurely.

You know damn good and well blood is rushing to your face, your hot breaths leaving you in weak puffs.

“Aren’t you precious?” you hear him remark with a toothy smirk. “Just for me. Right?”

You nod.

Demonically slitted eyes narrow at you darkly. “Say it, then,” he demands.

“Just...” you pant, “for you.”

Dabi’s hand pulls your ankle off him and puts your foot flat against the bedding next to his knee as he looks down at you. The moonlight striking the vibrant color of Dabi’s eyes is breathtaking, if your breath could be knocked out of your lungs further. It almost forced you to liken the sight with tinted ice, with icy waters off Iceland or perhaps glacier-dwelling seas of the Antarctic. And yet, you knew better.

The sight before Dabi was more than he’d expected, albeit just as sinful. Seeing you splashed out in bed, sweating and panting and dripping in your own essence just for him drove him wild. You were so adamant against fucking him, about retaining your innocence and saving it for the “right” person, in the beginning. And yet now, you let him do as he pleases and he didn’t doubt it would be the first time. He knew better.

“Get on your hands and knees, love.”

That was a first. “Love?” You like it more than the several others. It was smoky and gravelly and breathy all once.

Without your knowing your eyes soften and you grin the tiniest grin at the demon, knowing he won’t return the favor and be as gentle and sweet with you. He’s quick to quirk a brow at you, but you turn on your side to maneuver your body around and comply with Dabi’s command. Your breath has evened out by now, as you prop yourself on your elbows with your ass pointing out to Dabi, weeping cunt ready to be filled. It was embarrassing being on display like this again. You glance back at him with curious eyes, only to be met with silence and what felt like a dark presence. He’d gone cold on you.

You feel a hot hand on the nape of your neck and swear on whatever god you used to believe that your skin sizzled for a bit, while another lands on your left hip as his cock presses up against your folds and slithers through between your legs a couple times, gathering the slick of your essence - as if it needed to! - before he delves into your pussy once again. You croon in front of him, and the moan that comes out of Dabi has you clenching around his cock for the countless time. He mutters something untranslatable to you and pushes down on your nape, easing you face-first into the mattress. Your bedding was so soft and warm from your own body heat. Maybe it was leakage from the demon’s body temperature, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was a mix of both, intermingling like perfectly-cut pieces of a puzzle.

With a sharp moan, Dabi bottoms out in you, your mewls being swallowed by the bedding pressing against your cheek. You sigh into plush warmth, but the soft and gooeyness you feel is quickly torn away by a harsh snap of Dabi’s hips. Your gasp is cut through by a squeak from your throat, only urging him further as you already feel that coil tightening and readying to snap. You feel him shift a little against you, and you try to glance at him as much as you can before he begins thrusting into you again. That hard but slow pace makes its appearance for a short while, and hot damn is it heavenly. You moan and whine completely unabashedly. The walls of your apartment were thin and cheap, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It was just an effect he had on you.

So what if your neighbors knew your were getting railed by a demonic being from ages past?

He certainly wanted them to know.

Dabi’s pace picks up again and you already feel the ripples of pleasure soaring through your body from your clenching cunt, your grip on the fabric underneath you tightening as you fight back the urge to bite into it. Even the lewd slaps of his hips against your ass are louder and quicker, and fuck aren’t they wetter. Dabi himself seems proud of this.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs almost burn like the hand on the back of your neck, your keening and sobbing getting higher in pitch and filled with rushed air. His thrusts only seem to get deeper and harder, if it were possible, and your eyes close shut tightly as your body trembles. Dabi adjusts his hips and continuously hits that oh-so-sweet spot that makes your head cloud over totally, his head falling back at the way your pussy hugs him tight.

“Dabi!” you sob. “Don’t stop, please!” Your wording is heavily slurred and slightly hushed from the impact of his fucking your nerves and your cheek being pushed into the bed, but you manage, nonetheless. You can’t fight back the drool that droops out the corner of your mouth.

The demon chuckles. Dabi could hear you say his name like that for a thousand years straight and it wouldn’t be enough. “S’pose you’ve been a good girl, babydoll. Go on, I’ll let you cum.”

The hand on your neck moves to your shoulder and soon enough, your chest and face are removed from the sheets, albeit you’re still on all fours as he fucks into you. Thereafter you feel the piping heat of his chest against your back, a crude reminder of the seven layers of arson Dabi’s capable. His hand holds you still while he continues to wrack your body with thrusts into your wet heat. You feel his fingers rub and circle your clit after a torrid hand snakes around your ribs and down your navel, and the pace of Dabi’s fingers is almost in beautiful tandem with his fucking as he hits that special spot over and over and over again. You can feel your essence flowing down the insides of your thighs like you thought wasn’t even possible, pussy dripping onto your bedding.

Ah, fuck.

With a lustful shriek, your spongy walls convulse around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, your vision going white as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body rocks back and forth, legs twitching and torso shuddering. It takes almost everything Dabi has not to cum then and there, his hiss and loud growl being evidence of that. You just feel so good, why wouldn’t he want to cum now? But no, that would be a treat for you later.

Your clutch on the bedding underneath is as tight as you’re fully capable, and your knuckles turn white while you revel in your own personal bliss, courtesy of whatever the hell Dabi is. The intensity of it all has your head spinning and body pulsating. Poor body beginning to come down from the fierce high, you wondered if Dabi would stop and let you bliss out - but nay; he continues to fuck you like an animal and abuse your clit while you cry it all out. You were drenched in sweat, your cheeks flooded with tears you didn’t know were there until now.

“Too much, too much,” you squeak quietly, so quiet you’re not even sure he could hear you. But maybe it was incoherent. Maybe you were babbling and drooling like a fucked out hole at this point. Was it getting overwhelming? Yes. Did it feel ungodly good? Fuck yes.

“You’re so fuckin’... wet, though,” he pants, before slowing down slightly. “I think you’re playing innocent. You like this, ah, don’t you?” Dabi groans as you continue to flutter, sensitively, around him. “You want me to fuck you stupid, to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, right?”

Dabi chuckles at your lack of response and continues to ram into your soaking heat with your cries and squeaks only urging him further. An attempt to glance at Dabi is mostly thwarted by the pace he’s taken on, or maybe it’s because everything’s spinning - or is it the tears flooding from your eyelids - you manage to meet his icy, slitted eyes once, which prompts him to poke kisses at your nape and behind your ear. You feel that familiar warmth in your entire pelvis, you cunt clenching down on his cock as the waves of pleasure intensify.

“Dabi, I- nnn, it’s too mu-much,” you whine. “Please.”

“Nah, you’re okay, babydoll,” he drawls cockily, voice gravelly and breathy enough to make you cum on command. “I think you’ve got a few more for me, don’t you? C’mon.” He makes a point to hit your g-spot harder than before after he’s done talking, and goddamn does it take the air out of your lungs. You choke on your own spit when you feel that piping hot hand patted against your asscheek repeatedly.

Your shriek and wet slopping fills the room as you cum yet again, albeit this time the pressure on your nerves feels different - smoother, warmer - and the tingle in your belly is intense as your scream feels like it claws at your throat until it bleeds. Your thighs are drenched in your juices, cunt twitching and clenching in the aftermath of your mind-splitting pleasure. You mumble and whimper as he finally slows down and gives you a sliver of mercy, both of his hands now holding you up by your hips when your torso slowly droops down like it was before. Dabi chuckles behind you quietly as he comes to a halt.

“You good, doll?”

He’s definitely not sincere.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you heave and pant, the fabric in your fingers wrinkling in their grasp.

“Oi, you can’t quit on me now,” he demands. “I haven’t cum yet and I gotta make you squirt again.”

Trying to get a whole, solid word out was a struggle as a result of your heavy breathing and the overstimulation. Your head was fuzzy and the room was spinning like a damn typhoon, and for a split moment you thought you’d fallen unconscious. What spills out is garbled nonsense.

The demon hums that inquisitive hum again, urging you to speak.

You lift your cheek off the bed slightly, as you’re able. “Will...”

You’re not sure why, but the thought of Dabi skipping off after taking your virginity so unceremoniously rang into your thoughts, giving you a sense of loneliness and anxiety. Why, though? Why now?

“Huh?” He leans in so close, his horn bobs off the side of your head when he arches over you to put an ear to your lips. “Try again, love. Go on.” He sounds quite intrigued, probably the most you’ve heard him.

“Will you... hah, leave... me?”

The grin against your neck is dark.

“Whaddya mean, little mouse?”

His voice was downright excited. You were worth the wait. How long had it been since he’d had a human so obedient, so innocent yet so easily corrupted? You were his, now - whether you liked it or not was irrelevant. But he knew you would. Dabi had grown on you far more than you’d ever admit, he knew that for a fact. You were clearly enjoying yourself now, anyway. And it didn’t take magic to do all of this, save for one here and there to coax you to enjoy yourself and to bring out subconscious feelings. Like right now. You felt these things, he just amplified them to an unbearable extent. Whoops. You poor thing.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes half-lidded and droopy, you turn your head to look back at the demon, only to be met with sharp teeth shown off in a naughty grin. You blink once and you could’ve sworn you saw an image of a black, smoky aura surrounding him.

“If you can handle me, dear.”

You nod against the bed slowly before trying to push your ass against him with what little stability you have. Even if his cock was still buried in you, without any movement you felt empty and... alone.

“I thought it was too much?” he quips, hand rubbing at your reddened ass cheek in a way you have to describe as soothing. It felt so silky and mellow. Yet you knew he was far from that. “Well? I thought you were bitchin’ out on me like the virgin you are.”

“In... insi... inside,” you sputter shyly, mental clarity not quite returning, albeit you manage enough to think of that at least. You want him to cum inside, to know what it feels like to be stuffed full of his cum, to feel his cock twitching inside after his release. “C-um.”

You never would’ve thought about that before you met him. Why would you feel this way?

“Aw, what is it?” The hum that results from his scarred throat is dark. “You want me to cum inside right now? I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet.” His voice is bastardly and maybe even a little teasing, and he sighs almost happily at your squirming. “Asking me to cum inside like that the first time you get fucked - such a whore. Have I fucked you stupid already, doll? Shame, I thought you’d hold out better than that.” Dabi clicked his tongue and shook his head, though you can’t see. “Broken so early. Guess there’s no point in me stickin’ around after all, huh?”

A noise sounds from the back of your throat in protest and nearly unbeknownst to you, drool slithers out the corner of your mouth. Dabi seems to ignore your noises as his hands adjust your hips, giving you enough friction to elicit a whine from your lips. You can’t register this at the moment, but Dabi was a victim to his own whims and could be a mix of soft and downright mean in the bedroom, and there’s no telling which will arise. Sometimes he’ll want skin against skin, tongue lashing against yours, fiery pleasure; sometimes he wants to insult you and lash his hand across your ass cheek, leaving bruises or drawing blood wherever he can.

“I was gonna make you convince me,” he breathes, slowly thrusting. “But considering you’re still conscious, I think that’s enough.” Dabi chuckles behind you. Well, you were only conscious as per his meddling. He was the one keeping your consciousness pulled to the surface, preventing you from letting go of reality and passing out. “You’re most welcome to cry and beg, though, babydoll.”

Hell, that list was half-checked off. Tears stained your cheeks and blurred your vision already, and the more he fucked into you, the more they fluttered out. Your lungs burned at this point, a searing heat cutting through your chest. Anything you try to say comes out incoherently, a sputtered and garbled mess, when it’s not a pitiful sob.

You push your hips back against him in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock while Dabi fucks your puffy cunt, drawing a condescending chuckle from him. The jolt of overstimulation beckoned you to crawl away and relieve yourself of him, but the need to have him thrusting and cumming inside you overcame it. His release and what it would feel like to have his cum mixing with your juices and dripping out of you was all you could think about, as if entranced in a spell that bound your consciousness to that one thing. The rest of your thoughts were jumbled and incoherent even to you, the drool trickling out your mouth and the rolling of your eyes into the back of your head representative of that.

As Dabi watched your pussy envelop him, he couldn’t help but envision his name carved into your asscheeks with a sharpened claw of his. Ah, the squeals and squeaks that crawl out of you would be divine in the most sinful way possible, and the threads of blood that would trickle down your skin would taste head-spinningly beautiful. Maybe next time. Dabi’s jaw clenched at the throb of his cock within your sputtering, velvety walls, the tightness in his abdomen building. Just one more...

“Fuck, little one...!”

As the demon drags sharp claws up your thigh and asscheek, it leaves red ribbons in its wake and the squeeze of your cunt and pitiful squeal tells him well that you’re enjoying it far more than you ever thought you would.

“Such a good fucking human... good fuckin’ hole,” he grunts, voice strained. His hand plants on the middle of your back and pushes hard, bowing your poor back as his other hand keeps your hips up, his cock ramming into you at a faster pace. Dabi lets out a loud groan when he sees the blissed out, tear-stained, drool-covered face of yours before his thrusting loses rhythm and he suddenly feels your pussy flutter around him hard in orgasm again, soaking him in your slick again. Finally he allows himself to find the release you’d internally begged for, fucking into you at a less than rhythmic pace as his own mind begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck, motherfucking-!”

Dabi soon finds his teeth embedded into your flesh and gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise or even cut into the skin as his hips move entirely on their own against you. With a strained moan he cums, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your fluttering, sensitive, and overstimulated walls as you literally cry and sob underneath him, his hips still involuntarily thrusting into you as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth.

“Fucking hell,” he bites out, body relaxing against yours as he comes down from the high, yet he doesn’t pull out. “I missed this.” His voice is breathy and littered with pants against your neck. Dabi leaves a few wet kisses to it before leaning back and slowly pulling out with a groan, leaving you empty and dripping before him. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out but is quick to gather it with his fingers and push it roughly back into your pulsating cunt.

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

Your poor head spins and you don’t know up from down, so Dabi ushers you to lay down and before he knows it, you’re passed out asleep. Eh, he’ll consider aftercare next time maybe. With a yawn that’s more out of sudden boredom than it is exhaustion, Dabi lays down next to you and props his head up with his hand, leaning against his elbow as he watches you sleep peacefully, a complete contrast to a few mere minutes ago. With a smirk he wipes the tears off your cheeks. Those cheeks...

“I oughta answer sacrifices more often.”

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter Three; Where Birds Belong

Chapter One Here

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After visiting Kouten in the hospital, Y/n gets more and more ‘gifts’ from their stalker. But what are they supposed to do when it gets to be too much? Make a huge mistake, that’s what.

Word Count: 2.4K Words

Warnings: cursing, intrusive thoughts, mentions of masturbation, unwanted sexual letters, threats, police officers, implied drugging

Other: the first half of this chapter was meant to be in the previous chapter, but since Tumblr is a bitch I couldn’t do that and it was pushed here. 

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @hawksadmirer @assassinslittlesister @deepcollectorphantom (lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist)

Numb. 

Was that the right word to describe how you were feeling?

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, and your whole body felt light as a feather.

Your head was foggy, and you felt like the world beneath you was shifting, tumbling around like the tectonic plates of your life were slamming and crashing into each other.

When you arrived at home, there was another ‘gift’ waiting for you. You picked it up and brought it inside. You knew you should probably just ignore all the packages and throw them away, but you just couldn’t.

Why? Why must your curiosity be satiated like this?

Today, it was a teddy bear. A red string was wrapped around its neck. You sighed, setting it on the nightstand with the other ‘gifts.’ 

More and more gifts started to arrive over the next week and a half. Clothes you’d expressed interest in, small shiny things, key-chains, and a couple more dead animals. You were sick and tired of it, and you were stressed out of your mind.

You hadn’t slept in days, you were hardly eating, your weird stalker had started leaving notes talking about you. They knew things about you that they shouldn’t know, it was getting to be too much. You felt heavy and cotton-headed. 

Calls from unknown numbers appeared every day now, and most of them included you just saying ‘hello?’ Into the phone until the caller hung up.

You were so tired, and so freaked out. 

Paranoia flooded your mind about your stalker breaking into your house and hurting you. 

But you felt so selfish. All your stalker was doing was creeping you out. You hadn’t actually been hurt yet, however Kouten was in the fucking hospital! He had almost been killed and you were worried about a few creepy notes.

How much of a horrible person were you?

You had one comfort; him. 

Izanagi.

You’d been spending less and less time at your flat, and more time with Izanagi. You spent every other night at his house, and you’d gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as him that you felt you couldn’t sleep without his gentle touches and soft breaths.

Everything about him calmed you, his gentle green eyes, the constellation of freckles on his cheeks, that one tooth in his mouth that was twisted to the left, the days when he forgot to do laundry and you had to fold his clothes, you loved it all.

Your feet hit the pavement too hard as you approached your home. The stray tabby cat of your neighborhood dashing away from your front door as you approached.

You looked down, exhausted.

There was a rectangle of white on your welcome mat, your name printed in the fancy kanji of your stalker’s handwriting.

You slowly lifted it off of the ground, entering your home. Everything was quiet…

Too quiet.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, flinching at the sound of the mattress creaking under your weight. Slowly, you peeled open the envelope, unfolding the letter. Your eyes scanned down the words, nervous.

Dear Y/n.

You’ve been getting all my presents, right? Gosh I do hope you enjoy them. I can’t believe I’m finally writing you a letter! It’s so exhilarating, you know? 

I’ve never felt like this before, ever. Nothing even came close. God Y/n, I’m so in love with you! Do you know? I’ve been courting you this whole time! We’re birds of a feather, both lazy as fuck but so vulnerable.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt Yuu like I did, but that little bitch had to die. Unfortunately he survived, how tragic.

You stopped reading looking up for a moment. You were right! Your stalker had been connected to Kouten’s attack! That… didn’t feel very nice. You thought you’d feel better about it, but now you just felt sick.

It was your fault Kouten was hurt.

I could understand he was close to you, I hated that. I would have gone for Fujikawa, but he’s surprisingly cautious. You’d think he’d be more reckless, being as fucking stupid as he is, but nooo. 

I’ll have mercy on him, I’m sure it’d just make you upset to see him dead anyways. But I swear, go near him again and I’ll kill him. 

I don’t wanna talk about that in my first real letter with you, so instead I’ll just talk about you.

How breathtaking you are.

How fucking gorgeous you are.

Y’know, you really are fucking amazing, you think I didn’t see? You really took the time to appreciate yourself yesterday, I think that was your way of saying you loved me back! Touching yourself… oh fuck you looked so hot.  Think I didn’t hear? I really wish I was there, fucking you the way you need. I’d give you everything you’ll ever need. You won’t need anything but me. 

Baby you’ve just given me my next month’s worth of masturbation material.

Remember, I love you!

    -Your future husband

No. Fuck fuck no. Gross get out drop it throw up rip it to shreds hurt smash something scream no no no no no get out get it out get it out find him report him police heroes what the fuck Izanagi-

Izanagi.

Izanagi.

Hey siri, call Izanagi.

“Yo, Y/n! What’s up? Miss me already~” Izanagi. His voice relaxed you and you found your brain forming coherent thoughts again. You opened your mouth to confess what was happening, but nothing came out. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Then you cried. 

It felt so good to finally cry, you hadn’t cried in what felt like years, sobbing and looping his name, your only comfort in this chaos.

“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Hang on I’m coming over, don’t you fucking dare hang up!”

You sniffed, nodding, continuing to just mutter his name. In Just under five minutes, he was letting himself in with the spare key. You felt the bed shift, and you felt his warmth next to you. You fell against his side, crying harder. He held onto you, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, hey. Come on, what happened? Tell me!” you could hear the fear in his voice. You still didn’t feel like you could speak so you just shakily handed him the letter you received, hoping he’d understand your reaction once he saw what you’d gotten.

His eyes scanned the paper before widening, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He dropped the paper, standing up and grabbing a suitcase from your closet and starting to fill it with clothes. He moved with haste, and you noticed he was grabbing your favorite clothes.

The sweatshirt he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day, the Edgeshot t-shirt you wore every other day, the sweatpants you always slept in, 

“W-what are you doing?” you whimpered.

“You really think I’d let you stay here when some fucker obviously is watching you? I’m gonna report this to the police. No one is going to hurt you, okay? No one hurts my friends!” he turned back to you, a hard look in his eyes. You had a feeling that if he ever ran into your stalker, it would take multiple top heroes to hold him back from killing the guy.

You were grateful.

Izanagi helped you pack, and you told him all the other details. How it started with the Hawks beanie, how you’d gotten bottle caps and sweatshirts, and even dead animals. How you felt too scared to tell anyone, afraid of getting blown off.

He comforted you, he promised you he’d protect you. You felt safe with him. He would protect you. You thanked him religiously as he helped you bring your things over to his place. He kept telling you that of course he’d be doing this, it was the right thing to do.

This man… this man was your rock. He was your everything. You knew there’d be no way to fully repay him for his kindness towards you, but you promised yourself you’d try. 

You sat on his bed again, realizing that for the time being, this was your bed too. He was beside you, holding you tight and comforting you. You relaxed into his touch, before a realization struck you.

“Izanagi- he threatened to kill you. He hurt Kouten too, he- he can probably kill you if he really wants to.” Izanagi shook his head, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Nothing, I swear nothing is going to happen to me. Okay? Now, we’re going to the police station. You will not leave my sight, you will not let go of my hand. You’re not gonna wander off without telling me, etc etc. Clear?”

“Crystal.” you smiled softly, nodding. “Thank you so much Iza.”

“Like I said, of fucking course I’d do this. Come on, let’s get in the car.” he took your hand, putting your stalker’s letter in his pocket and taking you with him back out to his car. You got in the back, and he drove quickly. He glanced back at you repeatedly, double and triple-checking you were there and safe. 

  Finally, he pulled up at the police station and got out, quickly running around to the back doors as you got out. His hand was instantly on yours, pulling your body close against his and walking in the station with you. He briskly walked up to the police lady behind the counter.

“Oh, hello! Is there something I can do for the two of you?” she asked, it was so sweet and cheerful, so vastly different from the emotions swirling around in your mind.

“Yes, here.” Izanagi pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to the lady. “My friend has a stalker, and he’s attacked another one of our friends.” the woman looked over the letter, nodding.

“Alright, I’m going to have some officers talk to your friend in private and-”

“Not happening.” Izanagi growled. “I get it, but I’m not leaving my friend.”

“I- I want him in the room.” you added. “Please.” the woman sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, but unless you are a minor, I can’t have anyone else in the room with you. Even then it would be limited to certain people. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Fuck!” You grabbed Izanagi’s arm, rubbing his bicep to calm him down. He turned to you, offering you a strained smile. “You’ll be okay, right?” he asked, worried. You nodded, a feeble attempt to comfort him.

He gave the officers that came in a hard look, like he expected them to hurt you. You broke away from Izanagi’s comfort and followed them into a questioning room.

There were so many questions.

Every little detail about your life, even things that didn’t seem all that important. You told them everything you told Izanagi, plus a little more. They weren’t very comforting, and when you got scared, they got angry. It wasn’t at all like Izanagi, who softened when you were upset. Any detail that you didn’t have, they seemed to be upset with you about it. As if you were supposed to do your own little investigation illegally. It was… very annoying.

“Alright, we’re going to call a hero in here.” one of the officers told you. “Hawks has been doing a lot more patrols in your area than usual, he might have already seen your stalker and can probably take care of it for you. Is that okay?”

Hawks. You’d just met him one. He was a hero. He was trusted, beloved even. 

Call him in. He’s Hawks. He’s the number two. He wasn’t creepy, just do it!

“That’s fine, I’ll talk to Hawks.”

Maybe you should have thought about it more.

Maybe you should have trusted that feeling in your gut telling you ‘no.’

Maybe you shouldn’t have told Izanagi. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have involved the police.

Maybe you shouldn’t have spoken with Hawks so casually when you met him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been a bird.

Maybe then.

You’d be free as you once were.

It took five minutes. Then the door swung open and he walked in. It had been a week or so since you saw him, but when he layed his golden eyes on you, you got the feeling that you’d seen him only yesterday, in a flash of red in the dead of night.

“Hello, Y/n L/n.” He spoke calmly, but you noticed a slight tremor of excitement. Why was he so happy to see you? 

You felt chills run down your spine at the way he sat next to you, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His whole body seemed to vibrate in happiness, his wings fluttering as he locked eyes with you.

You shyed away from him, desperately trying to take your hands back, but his grip was firm. There was no escape.

“I-I changed my mind, officer!” You turned to the policeman, who was just leaving the room, leaving you with him. “I don’t want to talk to a hero, I’m sorry!”

The man turned back to you, a lazy, amused, smirk on his face. 

“Don’t worry, he’s a pro. You’ll be fine.” The man waved you off, shutting the door behind him. You felt like screaming, or throwing up, or both.

Something about Hawks seemed off. The way he looked at you, touched you, grinned so wildly at you, he didn’t look like a hero.

He looked like a crazed lunatic.

Click

The officer had locked the door.

“U-um, hi, Hawks.” you whispered, voice quiet. Fuck you wished Izanagi was here to comfort you. Hawks’ gloves were cold, the beaten leather rough against your hands, they were nothing like the gentle warmth that Izanagi’s soft skin emitted. 

His grin only grew, and he pulled you close to him, arms reaching around under your wings to grip your back. You squeaked, instinctively grabbing onto his biceps. His body was pressed against yours, and his breathing quickened, his face buried into your shoulder. You could feel him inhaling your scent.

“Fuck.” he growled, and you could feel his talons digging into your skin through his gloves and your shirt. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again.” his voice wavered, and you could practically feel his excitement.

“S-sir, please let me go-” you whimpered. “I’m here to report a crime, not as a fan trying to meet you.” the hero cooed, only holding you tighter. 

“I know why you’re here, dear Y/n~” his breath tickled your ear, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “And I know who’s been following you. So nice of him to send you all those gifts, right~?” 

No

“So cruel of you to act like he’s a criminal.”

Not like this 

“He’s going to take good care of you~” 

Not right now 

“I love you so much”

Ow.

You felt... foggy.

And warm, really warm.

Tired…

So… tired…

Darkness.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Late

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry has a reputation that makes you cautious and it’s caused some disagreements. Everyone thinks you hate each other, but maybe you don’t as much as you let on. (fluffy ending, and idk, maybe angst depending on your definition).

Words: 2880

Notes/Warnings: I made this like mid-20s Henry during the Tudors filming, season 1. If I messed up with tenses somewhere, I’d like it of you let me know. I started this story out in the past-tense then changed it to present so I might have missed some stuff when editing, even after reading it 100 times over.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hop up from your sunken spot on the couch. After the day you had, the Chinese food on the other side of that wood slab is the only thing with the ability to help you recover before you must face a fresh 5 a.m. morning with Henry tomorrow.

God, you want that man to fall off the face of the earth. You don’t care if his disappearance meant you would temporarily be out of a job. Being an assistant on the set of The Tudors was something you had strongly considered sacrificing in the past if it meant never having to work with one very particular, blue-eyed, temperamental actor ever again.

You almost quit weeks ago but told yourself to suck it up. You can’t afford to unintentionally cause drama at your workplace, not after your last job; and getting that kind of reputation is not what you are going for. Besides, filming for the first season is almost over, and you will gladly welcome the long break before everyone needs to report back for season two.

The smile you were fully prepared to give the delivery man falls entirely at the sight on the other side of the door.

“What the hell are you doing here,” You huff out.

Henry crosses his thick arms over his even thicker chest and frowns back at you. “I didn’t get my script.”

A headache is already forming just from his proximity and you don’t bother resisting the urge to rub at your temple. “Well, I sent it to your house a week ago.”

“And I didn’t get it, so clearly you didn’t do a very good job.”

With an eye-roll, you say, “Is there some reason you had to come all the way to my apartment and bug me for the script when I will see you first thing in the morning?”

“Everyone else will have had theirs longer, and I wanted to get a good start on learning my lines, so yes, I have a good reason for ‘bugging’ you, Y/N.”

You hate the way he says your name. It passes his lips so softly every time and makes your heart speed faster than your liking. If another man said your name like that, you’d fall for him in an instant, but no, Henry seemed to be the only man possessing that thick, honey-sweet voice.

“Whatever,” You groan and turn on your heel. In your office desk are two extra copies of each actors’ script for emergencies, but a simple text from Henry would’ve sufficed; this is hardly life or death.

‘Hey, never got my script. Can you bring a copy in the morning?’ So damn easy.

You turn your head back when Henry’s heavy footsteps hit your hardwood floors. “Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” You snap, eyebrows drawn together.

“What kind of person would leave their guest outside?”

The sass in his tone makes you want to pull your hair right out of your scalp. “You’re not my guest,” You say, but your blatant aggravation does nothing to hinder him and his body is a foot away from yours before you know it. Inches he has on you forces you to look up just to meet the smirk on his face.

“Stop acting like you hate me,” He says as he reaches a hand to grab yours.

“Excuse me?!” You quickly swat that hand away. “I am not acting like anything! Any negative feelings you are sensing from me are one hundred percent genuine.”

Henry scoffs and crosses his arms once again. “Oh, please.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. He is unbelievable. Everything he does, everything he says, everything he is has had the power to make your whole body shake since the day you met him. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Walking away from him for the office, he follows close behind. “You know what, you’re not all that great either!” He yells at your back as you open the drawer of your desk to shuffle through the scripts. “You yap all damn day, talking to everyone else on set and making them laugh! You shoot that pretty smile in any direction and people flock to you like deranged birds!”

“So!” You pull out the script and hand it to Henry. Without giving it a glance, he snatches it from you and tosses it back on the oak wood surface of the desk.

“So? You’re distracting them from their jobs! We could probably get things done twice as fast if you weren’t around!”

“That’s—”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful!” He harshly interrupts. “Annoyingly! The men we work with will not shut up about it and I’m sick of listening to them talk about you the way they do! I end up hearing your name more times in a day than I hear my own, and I get called upon every five seconds! I’m practically forced to think about you!”

You blink at the increase in volume that makes the thin walls of your home quiver.

“I don’t know how many times your face manages to flash in my mind in the course of a week, but it’s starting to get to me!”

Your hands rise in disbelief before they slap back down to your sides. “That’s not my fault! But you’re one to talk! You’re well aware you’re ridiculously, unnaturally hot, and I fucking hate it! The women we work with won’t shut up about you. And you think I’m annoying? Imagine being surrounded by a pack of idiots that go on and on about how amazing you are, when the truth is, you’re so arrogant I can’t stand to be within two feet of you!”

When you try to walk past him, his hand wraps tightly around your upper arm. “Hey!”

“Leave me alone! I hate you!” You snarl at the rage in his eyes and try to shake him off you.

“You don’t hate me.”

You glare up at him. “Oh no?”

He gapes at you, seemingly stunned you have the gall to challenge him. The grip on your arm loosens until you are free. Winding his fingers through his chocolate locks, Henry shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “You are so...”

“So what? So irritating? So infuriating?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If I’m such a problem, then go.” Ignoring his words, you point a finger in the general direction of the nearest exit.

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!”

He quirks an eyebrow and cocks his head. “So you’re going to grab me with your tiny hands and throw me through the front door, is that right?”

“I can’t fucking lift you!” You yell.

“Then I’m staying!”

“I think you’re really not! You can’t just demand to stay here! That’s not how this works!”

“Why can’t you just—God damn it!” He stomps his way back into the living room, script forgotten, and reaches for the doorknob. You follow him and let out an exhausted breath of relief, but Henry whips around to you again before you have time to revel in the feeling. “You know what, no. I’m not going anywhere until we settle this bullshit between us. I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m not going to act like I dislike you. I’m not going to keep playing this game, because it’s clearly not getting me anywhere; in fact, it’s doing the opposite.”

“Getting you anywhere?” You mumble.

“This whole thing is fucking bullshit and I’m over it.” He swallows. “Tell me what I did.”

“What?”

“You keep saying you hate me but have never given me a reason, so what did I do?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You were just telling me I suck at my job, yet at the same time you don’t think I have a reason to be mad. You glare at me during work, you act like I’m an inconvenience, you—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Henry grabs your hand, and for a reason you couldn’t place, you allow it this time. “At the beginning, when we met, what was it that caused a problem between us? I’ve gone over our first meeting in my head about a thousand times and cannot figure out how I upset you so much that you’re still mad after months.”

You slip your fingers out of his palm, looking to the floor.

“Please just tell me,” He begs. “Please, I--”

“You sleep with the women you work with.” You spit out.

When he stares at you in confusion, you wince and say, “I have this friend…kinda. She was an extra on Hellraiser and claimed that you slept with nearly every woman on set, herself included. When I told her I got this job she said you’d probably try to get in my pants if I wasn’t careful, and I’m not cautious enough about men as it is, so—”

“You were mad at me before we met for something I didn’t even do?” He isn’t angry or looking at you like you’ve lost your mind; more like he can’t believe that was all it was. As if he had a simple solution to the problem that planted its roots deep into the both of you months prior.

“Whether or not you did, it’s not like you’ve been an angel to me anyway,” You say.

“Because I fucking panic when someone I want doesn’t want me! And you’ve made it very clear that you do not want me! You always seem so angry and…and I’m not very smooth, ok!? I say shit I don’t mean!”

“So you do want to get in my pants?”

“No!” He says quickly, then after a beat, sighs. “Yes.”

You give no response, so he continues.

“I swear, despite how idiotic I have acted, I really like you, and I don’t know who your friend is or why she would tell you I slept with a bunch of women on set, but I didn’t.”

You have to look away from him. His eyes hold too much sincerity and all it does is confuse you. You have spent too much time pissed to feel comfortable with the idea that it was potentially all for no reason, so you hug your arms across your middle and take a step back from him.

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s late, Henry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You won’t meet his stare but can see from your peripherals his head slowly nod. You don’t look up until your front door closes softly behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spend the earliest hours of the next morning sipping coffee before everyone else arrives for work, wondering if the night before actually happened or if it had just been a very realistic messy mix of a dream and a nightmare.

The sun rises and you watch as it ascends each inch until it’s planted high enough in the sky to warm your skin. He’d be here soon, looking for you, wanting answers for any questions you hadn’t given him the chance to ask.

So, what, he likes me now? He wants me? You can’t wrap your head around it. But you suppose it makes as much sense as you saying you hate him when really what you’ve been is nervous. You don’t want to be used again by some man with more power than you. Pulling yourself out of that hole was hard enough and you have no desire to trip and fall right back in.

“Y/N. You’re here early.”

You jump at the first voice to interrupt the peaceful silence. It was the last moment you’ll have to yourself for the next fifteen hours at least.

Turning your head, you smile at your boss. “Morning, Em.”

“Henry’s here early, too,” She says. “He asked me to let him know when you came in, but seeing as you’re already here, you think you could just head to his trailer now?”

No, you want to say. I’m not ready. “Sure.” You half-heartedly smile, dumping the last of your coffee in the nearest trash can.

Each crunchy step along the gravel to Henry’s trailer feels less sturdy than the one before. Though, he isn’t in his trailer when you find him, but standing out in a grassy patch, throwing a ball to Em’s dog, Leo. It makes your heart pump hard to see him so casually soft. It’s the first time you are looking at him when his eyes aren’t already on you.

Leo loyally returns the ball to Henry three more times before you gather the nerve to step up to his side.

“Em said you wanted to see me.”

You notice him hold in a breath when he registers your voice, then tossing the ball once more, he says, “I’d have gone looking for you myself if I knew you were here.”

You nod, but you’ve yet to look at one another.

“The makeup artists are gonna have a blast today trying to make me look decent,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t sleep all night. I spent it trying to figure out what to say to you but came up short.”

You scratch behind Leo’s large ears when he nudges your legs with his head. Henry gently grins, though you don’t see it. You shrug. “At least you don’t have as many scenes today.”

Henry chuckles. “That’s true.”

“I couldn’t think of anything to say to you either,” You say.

A moment passes as he blows out a deep sigh.

“Y/N…I don’t want to act like it didn’t happen. I know that’s what is easiest, but I meant what I said. The good parts, not the shit about you sucking at your job. You’re the best at your job.”

Finally meeting his eyes, the corners of your lips curve up just a bit.

“But I don’t expect you to feel the same about me.”

“Henry…”

He shakes his head and throws the ball for Leo after the pups persistent whimpering. “I’m not going to make things hard for you. Filming is almost over anyway and if you want, I’ll try to bother you as little as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just…you like everyone around here except me, but I’ve liked you more than anyone else since the moment we met. It’s no excuse--”

“It’s ok.”

He looks at you. “It’s not.”

“It is.” Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm. He stares at the touch you give him as you continue. “I didn’t have a good reason for treating you like I hate you, not really.”

“So, you don’t…hate me?”

“…No.” You look away in shame. “And I have a better explanation for that.”

He blinks, clearly relieved that every horrible thing he figured you felt for him was not, in your heart, the truth. “You don’t owe me one.”

“I slept with my boss once,” You rush out. “And, um…got the same warning as I did with you: sleeps with the other women he works with, will try to do the same with me. He did and I let him because I thought he liked me, but…no. All it did was make me feel like an idiot in the end.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I made a mistake.” You shrug. And suddenly, admitting that out loud, confiding in someone, knocks some of the painful gears in your head loose. You’d never told anyone the truth about your past. “Look, this is going to sound really odd but,” You swallow. “…Don’t stop bothering me.”

“Wait,” He turns his body fully to you. “What?”

Your lips thin, but then you smile, inch up on your toes, and go to kiss his cheek. All you wanted to do was provide a little reassurance, to let him know that you now forgive every misunderstanding between you, but the kiss lands a little too far to the right and covers the end of his mouth.

Immediately, you pull back a few centimeters and feel heat flushing your cheeks, but Henry tilts his head the slightest. He takes a breath, giving you a chance to pull back further, but when you make no move to abandon him, he connects your lips again.

It feels good. He feels good. So good it shocks you how much you don’t want it to end. And when you part your lips and his tongue touches yours, you can’t stop your hands from sliding up his chest before roping around his neck and tugging him closer. Only then does he greedily grab at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt.  

Leo’s bark separates you minutes later, though you’re reluctant to allow it. You glance at the dog, chuckling at his rapidly wagging tail as he watches the scene before him. But when you look back to Henry, his eyes are already glued to you, their hue a little brighter and a small smile on his face.

“I’ll bother you as much as you like,” He says and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear.

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*reposted for tag testing reasons. 

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Conner Kent Week 2021, Day Two: Rarepair

Jason knew jokes about how pale Tim was, about how he was either a vampire or the perfect blue blood, about how he needed to get out and absorb some sun for God’s sake. They were met with glares, scathing retorts, smacks with a bo staff, and on one memorable occasion, a horrified Bruce as Tim barged into the house with visible sunburn all along his arms, shoulder and face. (Bruce hadn’t taken Tim’s accusation of But Jason told me to go get some sun! very well.)

Jason wasn’t joking now. Loosely covered in a hospital gown, Tim’s still body seemed to be more devoid of colour than any of the sheets, machines, and tubes surrounding him and attached to his body, keeping him alive in the most impersonal of ways. 

It was quiet, the sort of quiet that muffled any attempted noise with a soft hush, an invisible reprimand at showing signs of life in a place where there should be none. The beeping of the various machines didn’t register, the hum of the fluorescent lights was ignorable. Even the rhythmic tapping of Jason’s foot on the linoleum, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break, was utterly silent. 

It was quiet. At least until Conner Kent barged into the room, his heavy combat boots thudding on the ground and his breath coming out in pants, the terrified look on his face telling Jason that he thought he hadn’t gotten here fast enough.

“He’s fine,” Jason managed not to cough while speaking, the roughness of his throat a physical ache that was just now flaring up. “Full recovery, they said.”

“Good, good, that’s...” Conner dropped into the remaining hospital chair, right next to Jason. “That’s good.”

Silence blanketed them once again. Jason hadn’t ever been in a regular hospital room. He had supposedly spent a while as a patient in one when he’d risen from the dead and trembled around Gotham like a 21st century zombie, but he couldn’t remember any of it. He didn’t think Tim’s best friend had ever been in one either, given a good majority of Tim’s team was invulnerable or had advanced healing in some way. 

Jason was sure Bruce was itching to take Tim to the cave’s medbay, and honestly, Jason found himself on Bruce’s side in this. As much as he liked to distrust the entire Bat clan, he knew they’d give everything they had to make sure Tim was okay, while the hospital was only giving Tim their best care because of the “Wayne” tacked onto the end of his name. Jason had been about to demand Bruce bring him back to the cave no matter what, but Oracle butted in, telling him that Tim been shot as Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne in broad daylight. Bruce couldn’t take Tim home, not without raising some very complicated questions.

So that led them here. Jason being slammed full-force in the face with how much he’d let himself care about the tiny little toothpick, unable to make himself move for fear that Tim would slip away in the one moment he was gone. (Once he’d come back to life and seen how chummy Dick was with Bruce all of a sudden, he’d always expected Dick to drag him back kicking and screaming. He never thought Tim’s unobtrusive yet steady presence, doing his tech work in exchange for food, would lead to the word brother coming to his lips as easy as a breath.)

Next to him, Conner shuffled, and snapped Jason out of his thoughts. “I thought Nightwing would be here.” A statement, subtly posed as a question.

But, still one Jason had an answer to. “Deep cover. A mission he’d been planning for weeks. He doesn’t know.” And he would probably throw a fit about it too, when he came back. Even Jason had to wince a bit at the horrible sense of déjà vu Dick would end up feeling.

“So they sent you instead,” Conner said, and his tone was simple, but Jason found himself getting heated anyway.

“What, you thought the fill-in for Big Bird would be a little better?”

Jason was just burning for a fight, the helplessness he felt at being able to do nothing but sit in a low-quality plastic chair skating up his body and down his arms, forcing his fingers to curl in a fist. He expected the other boy to rise to the bait, having heard Tim’s complaints on how hot-headed Superboy was. 

But something about their current situation caused Conner to just turn and glare at him flatly instead. “You once put him a hospital bed, too. Don’t act like you care about him now when you would’ve celebrated this a couple years ago.” His tone was dismissive, and that dug under Jason’s skin much more than he expected. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing time travel’s reserved for the speedsters, huh? ‘Cause lucky for you, I’m not the same guy I was a couple years ago,” Jason replied scathingly. The next words were ripped from Jason’s throat, and he could almost see the blood splattered on them. “That’s my brother in the shitty hospital bed right there.”

“Yeah? And how long have you even cared about that ‘brother’ of yours?” There it was. Jason could see red trickling into Conner’s cheeks as he let Jason’s words get to him, and found himself oddly curious about that flush.

Still. Argument to win. “Long enough to know him,” Jason shot back. “Long enough to help piece him together after he almost broke. Where were you during that time? Fucking around with your friends or dead?”

“Trying to hold together the team that Tim helped build,” Conner shifted a bit to face Jason more directly head on. “All you’ve done is tear people apart. News flash: having a sort-of truce with Tim doesn’t automatically mean your family loves you again.”

That one hurt. Years of training to keep his emotions hidden was the only thing that kept him from flinching back visibly, but Jason still felt like he’d been slapped. Because the boy was right; just because Tim liked dropping by one of his safehouses every other week doesn’t mean the rest of the family was anywhere near comfortable with him, not after all the pain he’d caused them. And he couldn’t even fault Conner on it, because it wasn’t like he was wrong and it wasn’t like it wasn’t Jason’s own damn fault.

Still. He couldn’t just let that slide. “At least my family loved me to begin with. What do you have? Megalomaniac scientists who built you from an evil billionaire who thinks of you as an experiment at best and supposedly one of the best men on Earth who still thinks you’re not worth his time.”

Too late, Jason realized his insult came out a little too scathing. Conner’s eyes widened, and Jason saw him blink back pinpricks of tears...fuck. He didn’t know when mutual antagonizing had turned into a caustic competition, but he was pretty sure Tim wouldn’t be very happy with the two of them biting each other’s heads off. And Jason was the one that goaded Conner into this to begin with, to let some of his own helpless anger loose. Conner just wanted to make sure his friend was alright.

So, slightly reluctantly, Jason said, “Sorry. That was a bit too far.”

Conner shot him a grimace. “S’okay. You’re keyed up ‘cause of Tim. I get it. You’re still a jackass, though.” After saying his bit, the other boy turned away, taking up another vigil by Tim’s bedside.

...What the hell. It wasn’t like Jason had lied, anyway. If there was one person that had worse daddy issues than Jason did, it was this poor son of a bitch. Back when he was first catching glimpses of updates on what happened in the larger superhero world while he was letting green overtake his mind, he’d marveled a bit at Superboy, and the way the Justice League seemed to speak about it. How bad do you have to be to be Superman’s own son, (sorta), and still have him hold you at arms length. But after Tim’s stories, and after meeting him now, Jason was pretty sure Superman was in the wrong.

You really couldn’t trust anyone, could you?

“Nah. You’re right,” Jason said. “God knows none of the Bats want anything to do with me, so this stupid sort-of truce with this stupid brother’s all I got.”

Conner glanced over at him, surprised. Jason couldn’t blame him, he was a little taken aback at how easily the confession had spilled out of him too. They both knew how closed off people in their line of work were, but Conner seemed to take Jason’s words as an olive branch.

“You were right too. Found out the fun way that parents aren’t worth shit. So the team’s all I got, and Tim’s a big part of that.”

“The kid fucking hates you,” Jason said, putting some good-natured humor into his words to let Conner know he wasn’t entirely serious. “Loves you to death, but complains about you to me all the time.”

Conner snorted. “Look who’s talking. Every week at Titans Tower, it’s all ‘Jason won’t stop scaring off all my informants’ and ‘Jason spit on my copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.’”

“You can’t blame me for that last one, aight?” 

“No, I agree with you,” Conner said. “That movie was terrible. I don’t know why Tim likes it.”

“Because he’s a goddamn loser,” Jason said. He couldn’t say he was expecting Conner to know who he was, much less from stories Tim had told him. But it felt...good, in a way. Nice to be recognized by his media tastes instead of his bone-chilling reputation. Nice to know that the guy Tim wouldn’t shut up about to him knew who he was.

Silence fell in between them again, but it was comfortable, mutually acknowledged and let rest. Jason didn’t break it when Conner stood up, brushed a kiss to Tim’s hair, and left the hospital much quieter than he came. Jason didn’t break it when he made to leave either, squeezing Tim’s hand and mentally willing him to heal faster. Jason didn’t break it all the way home. 

The next day found Jason in a similar position. The positive side of being a mob boss: he didn’t have much in the way of a day job. He didn’t know why cramming himself into an uncomfortable position to stare, with a tight throat, at a kid in a medically induced coma was what he decided to do with his day.

Maybe because the kid had grown on him, latched onto his heart like a leech and didn’t let go until Jason could ruffle his hair and think of him as a little brother without physically throwing up. 

And maybe because he wanted to see Conner again. He didn’t know why, but their brief talk yesterday had loosened something inside his chest. He was used mulling over his regrets, used to Bruce condemning him and giving up on him as a lost cause, used to Dick trying to brush everything aside and form a bond with him again. He wasn’t used to someone staring his sins in the face, then shrugging and forgiving him. 

Forgiveness was much lighter and much less guilt-ridden than Jason expected, and he wanted more of it. From the way Conner had sunk into the same line of thinking as Jason, he wanted more of it too.

Conner didn’t disappoint him, but Jason wasn’t sure when he’d gotten his hopes up high enough to be disappointed in the first place. Calmer, now that he knew Tim was doing better, Conner leaned against the doorframe of hospital room, staring at their resident comatose with a little frown on his lips.

Jason took the time to study him. A black leather jacket stretched across his shoulders, a little more showy than the practical brown one draped across the back of the chair Jason was sitting on. He supposed it fitted in with Superboy’s theme, because anyone who wore that pinwheel-bright costume with the fucking thigh holster Jason saw pictures of online was more than a little showy. There wasn’t much proof of in his simple t-shirt and jeans, though, and Jason almost would’ve been disappointed if it weren’t for the earring hanging from his left earlobe and the tall black boots with glinting metal lace hooks that stretched up their length. Jason bet he owned the exact pair of fingerless gloves that were wrapped around Conner’s wrists right now.

In all of Tim’s vivid descriptions of the guy, Jason never realized how much he had in common with the guy, at least cosmetically.

“How’s he doing?” Conner asked, and jolted Jason out of his reverie. He didn’t make any indication he caught Jason looking, but Jason eyed him in slight embarrassment just in case.

Realizing that Conner was actually waiting for an answer, Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit from his relaxed sprawl. “They say they’ll bring him out of it tomorrow, then a week here before he can go home. That is, if he doesn’t wake up on his own. The doctors say they’re astounded at how fast he’s recovering.”

Conner snorted, then stepped fully into the room. “Can you build up an immunity to injury? Or, like, have your body develop a mini healing factor or something? Just based on the kind of shit we’ve gone through over the years?”

Jason didn’t miss the way Conner put feather’s touch more emphasis on “we,” or the way his eyes flicked over to Jason. “At this point, I’m sure it’s the only way we’ve stayed alive so long.”

“No you didn’t,” Conner chuckled.

Jason’s head whipped up, staring at the other boy with disbelief threading through his mind. It had taken months for Dick to start making death jokes, and even then, he hesitated a bit, as if making sure Jason was okay with it. But after one meeting, Conner just steamrolled ahead, every bit as confident as he appeared to be. Jason found himself laughing too, with genuine amusement albeit a little punched out.

Crossing the room to seat himself in the remaining plastic chair, Conner sunk down with a sigh. “I just want him to wake up already.”

“Yeah, well. Who doesn’t?” Jason said, feeling unreasonably a little disappointed. Of course Conner wanted to talk about Tim, that was the whole reason he’d come to the hospital in the first place. He’d only known Jason for an hour, and a large part of that was spent trading insults back and forth. Of course he didn’t want to talk about how Jason was doing.

“So,” Conner said, turning away from the hospital bed. “How are you doing?”

Or maybe he did. Jason didn’t know what to call the little bubble of satisfaction that flew up his throat and popped in his mouth. “Not bad. Life as a mob boss is kinda boring, whaddya know. You?”

“Playing den mother for a bunch of hypercompetent yet cluelessly stupid baby superheroes is not how I imagined my life going.”

“Playing den mother?”

Conner wrinkled his nose, in a motion that was in no way cute, honestly kind of gross and flat. Jason found himself staring nonetheless. “Bart used to call me Team Mom back when we founded the team, and it caught on. Now, Cassie leads, but since even she says it, everyone fucking says it. They ask me for granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“And?”

Conner sighed. “I give them granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“There you go,” Jason  said, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“I swear I’m not usually this lame,” Conner pleaded, and his half-smile was aimed straight towards Jason.

“No, no, I believe you. Tim’s told me stories,” Jason said. “Didn’t you once throw some guy into a police car so hard, the car dented and they had to call in a helicopter so the guy didn’t die on the way to the hospital?”

Conner flushed, and Jason found it just as entrancing as last time. “He tried to touch Cassie,” he explained. “And she can take care of herself more than well, I know. I just got a bit...overprotective.”

Jason just laughed. “Don’t worry. I thought it was badass.”

“Really?” Conner’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “Because the League thought it was proof of my, fuck, what was it? Violent, destructive tendencies mirrored on a smaller scale of the schemes of Lex Luthor. Something along those lines.”

Shaking his head with desideration, Jason scoffed. “Sounds about accurate. Besides, you don’t wanna know what the League thinks of me.”

“What?”

“Aside from, like, Joker and Two-Face and Mad Hatter and shit, Red Hood is one one of Batman’s most powerful and dangerous rogues, and must be stopped at all costs.”

Conner was laughing before Jason even finished talking. “I love that for you,” he said. “You’re just so powerful and dangerous. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Jason shoved him lightly, and felt Conner give way on purpose, ignoring how natural and easy the motion felt. “Whatever you say, Luthor Lite.”

“Well, guess I found my new superhero name,” Conner said, finger held up to his chin in mock-thought as if musing something extremely important.

“It’s perfect,” Jason said. “And here we have Conner Kent, ordinary punk-rock farmer. But he’s hiding a secret! When his ‘violent and destructive tendencies’ come out, he turns into...Luthor Lite!”

The two of them collapsed into muffled laughter, Jason stifling his noise by biting his lip and Conner putting his head in the crook of his arm to hide his red face. Pity, Jason liked that flush.

Straightening up with a sigh, Conner offered Jason a little grin. Crimson was still creeping along his cheekbones and the edge of his jaw, and Jason was suddenly struck by the urge to trace it.

“Kon,” Conner said.

“What?”

“Call me Kon,” Conner said. “Everyone does.”

“Kon, huh? With a K, right?” Jason asked, then nodded thoughtfully when Conner made a noise of affirmation. “Is it Kryptonian or something?”

A rueful expression stole it’s way onto Conner’s face, mischievous lips and daring eyes staring at Jason as if challenging him. “Yeah. Kon-el. Kryptonian for ‘abomination’. It’s what they thought of clones.”

A pause. Then, “Wow.” Jason bust out laughing for the second time. “That’s metal as fuck. Good for you, Kon.”

“Says the guy who took the name of the person who killed him, then twisted it into something so horrifying that now, no one else associates it with anything other than you.”

“Is that judgement I hear?”

“Respect,” Kon said, and his smile was oddly shy, the first time he’d shown that emotion since he’d met Jason. Jason liked the way it looked on him; it suited him oddly well.

They were quiet for a minute, grinning at each other like buffoons, but Jason couldn’t find the heart to stop. Eventually, Kon stood up and rolled out his shoulders to stretch. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting Bart and Cassie, updating them about Tim.”

“They’re waking Tim up in the afternoon,” Jason said. “Bruce is gonna be here, plus Steph. So I’d stay clear.”

“Gotcha, thanks. I’ll come in the morning.”

A proposition, if Jason ever saw one, and there was no way he could have refused. “I’ll be here,” he said, and kept his eyes on Kon until he rounded a corner, away from sight.

Kon was already there when Jason came to visit Tim the next day, and he gave him a friendly, if a tad flirtatious, smile. Jason responded, accidentally putting too much emotion into the greeting than he would have liked, but it made Kon brighten, so Jason didn’t feel too bad. 

Dropping heavily into what had become “his” chair, Jason shrugged off his jacket. He gave himself a mental high-five when he noticed Kon staring at his shoulders, but made no motion to address it.

“If all goes to plan, he’ll be the same annoying little prep boy that’s always annoying the hell out of me by tonight,” Jason said.

“He’ll be fine,” Kon said, and his voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of confidence curling around his words. He sounded like he had utter faith in Tim. Jason wished some of that would bleed over.

“He’s a tough little shit,” Jason said, then repeated Kon’s words. “He’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Hm?” Jason raised an inquiring brow. “Oh, I’m all good It’s not me that’s hurt.”

“Jason,” Kon snorted. “If I have learned anything over the past two days, it is the fact that you are most definitely not ‘all good.’”

“Yeah well,” Jason said. “You’re one to talk.”

Kon made a noncommittal noise, and shrugged as if to say what can you do? “We’ve all got issues. But I get the feeling that you’re not as closed off and angry as you let people believe. Or maybe you are, but you don’t want to.”

Jason bit back the first response that came into his mind, telling Kon that no, he was closed off and angry, just not with him. But that wasn’t the truth, and he definitely didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. So instead, he said, “Maybe. Not gonna lie, from the way Tim and everyone talks about you, I was expecting more...”

“Cocky little frat boy?” Kon asked, smirking.

“More or less.”

Kon sighed, then looked down to where his hands were fiddling with each other. “Superman doesn’t act like a cocky little frat boy. Neither does Lex Luthor.”

“You’re not either of them,” Jason said, realization pouring into his mind like spilled oil. “You’re not either of them, but no one else seems to get that, so you make it as obvious as possible.”

“A couple people got that eventually,” Conner said, looking up at Tim with a soft smile. “Not many, though. And none as quickly as you.”

Kon leaned back, level with Jason now, turned to face him, something on his face that Jason couldn’t read. The chairs seemed much closer than Jason could remember, but he wasn’t very much banking on his memory right now. 

“Yeah, well,” Jason said, feeling a little lame. “What can I say. Misery likes company, and companies read each other through water.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“I came up with it,” Jason said. 

“I like it,” Kon smiled, then leaned forward with an ease Jason had been determined to build up first.

A little peeved at Kon beating him to it, Jason closed the distance first, the kiss probably a little too rough. But given the way they’d met, Jason felt like the bite he gave Kon was justified, even if the other boy was invulnerable.

Jason had made plenty of bad decisions in his life, and he knew exactly what they felt like. This wasn’t one of them. There was no chance that the way Kon’s hands coming up to cup Jason’s face, dragging his nail down Jason’s jaw, was anything other than good. No chance the way Kon’s soft hair suddenly threaded through his fingers was anything other than soft, no chance the soft noise Kon made in the back of his throat was anything other than delightful.

Yeah, Jason knew bad decisions. And despite the avalanche of bad decisions that seemed to make up every inch of Jason, from his scarred hands to his chipped nails, despite the pile-up of thoughtless ideas that led to this boy being made, despite how intimately familiar Jason was with regrets, he was certain Conner Kent wasn’t one of them.

------------

this was almost 4k what the fuck

also. please imagine tim waking up to see his best friend and older brother aggressively making out in the plastic hospital chairs next to him. 

anway, suddenly i have a new ship.

imma post this on ao3 later, it got a bit long

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump

[burntmcnuggies]

Hi! Can i request a hawks x fem! reader where hawks kind of has bird-like tendencies? She’s pretty good friends with him, and sometimes he whistles and stuff when she’s around (like a mating call/song) and one time she was talking to another pro hero and hawks gets jealous (but it’s his bird side so he can’t control it) and his wings puff up and stretch out as a show of dominance or something. And they get really bright too! The media reports the event and he confesses how he feels 🥺 tysm!

Of course! 🥺

I’m so happy to have actually gotten a request!! This is actually my... fourth Hawks story? And I feel I’m getting better at his personality! If any of you have constructive criticism I’m all ears! Ready to improve! I tend to over study characters before I write them so I have a good understand to deliver the best for everyone! :D

I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff... so I did both! A wholesome pure one and a spicy sexy one!

I really hope you enjoy this! ❤️

Both stories are almost exactly the same except for the ending, so in the end if you want smut, go to the NSFW one! 18+ only please! :)

➪ NSFW <3

Jealous Bird (Fluff)

Warnings: strong language, suggestive themes towards breeding, and that’s it!

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulders were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and i have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always argue you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“Animal Mutant types like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there once more. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start then! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! People who don’t dream of kissing me so passionately and marrying me.” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please marry me... I love you so much. Kiss me... let’s start a family, and be the happiest couple ever~”

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak in such a way. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans cravin’ me~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything romantic with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans want for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey man, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. And he would always make these weird sounds whenever the two of you got close. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. You unwrapped your food and took a bite of the savory meal. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched the back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger and jealousy. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understanding why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. You sent him a silencing glare and he smiled nervously, unsure of what you were thinking.

“Uh... oops?”

——

“Breaking News! Pro-Hero Hawks was seen acting quite strange this morning. We have multiple eye witness accounts saying his behavior was aggressive in sorts. Many people claim after the latest villain attack, Hawks confronted Pro-Hero Edgeshot! What an intimidating display by one of the most top ranked heroes! We’re not sure on the full details, stay tuned for more on the story later.” The whole time the video played the camera was zoomed in on Hawks. His vibrant wings spread dominantly, visibly fluffed and shaken up. It was incredibly lucky they didn’t catch you both kissing —even though his wings were covering you both. You slid your phone in your pocket and sighed heavily, patiently waiting outside the presidents door, ready to see Hawks and talk to him about what had happened.

You attempted to talk to Mirko but... You couldn’t really understand what she was talking about, especially through all the panting. ‘Oh baby please, come to my place, I promise we’ll have fun okay? Forget about that birdbrain! Come to me. We can eat! Have dessert first and then a full course meal! And another, and another, a-and another~! Until I’m full and satisfied! Please!’ You sadly had to decline. Being treated to multiple full course meals and desserts was nice and all, but you really needed to talk to Hawks. A click of the door was heard, and you brought yourself off the hard painted walls to see Hawks walking out with a pout and a frown. He hated being scolded, he was a grown ass man with hormones. Of course he was going to lose it eventually.

“H-Hawks...!”

He immediately jerked his head up hearing his name, plastering on a cheeky smile before coming up to you. “What’s up chicken wing, you came to check on me huh?” Sometimes you wanted to slap the smugness out of him, but sadly, it would probably grow knowing him. You honestly nodded and rose your hand to tell him to follow you. He did as you told quietly, his hands in his pockets, unsure of what you were even going to say. His feathers could faintly sense your thundering heart, how it hammered against your rib cage every step you took towards the door. “It’s... about what happened this morning.”

“...I see.” It was unusual for him to be so speechless in a conversation. He loved to talk. You rubbed your arm sheepishly and made your way out the doors with him. You walked for a bit, until you reached the agency you worked at. Well, this was it. “Hawks I...” you began, but couldn’t bring yourself to confess to him. You’d denied your feelings for years, pushing them aside to hold onto your friendship. You didn’t think you were good enough for him. He needed someone stronger, someone better. “Ah... never mind, I forgot what I was going to say. See you to-“ You were silenced once his gloved hands found your arms softly, and his lips met yours once again to share in a passionate kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, his warm comforting touch, never wanting to leave.

“Im... sorry for the way I acted today.” He spoke slowly, expression the sincerity behind his apology. Your eyes widened watching Hawks get down on one knee and begin to kiss your knuckles one by one. “I couldn’t help myself... seein’ you... with other guys, just thinkin’ about it makes my blood boil...” He stands back up again, spreading his large wings, their vibrant color remained, accompanied by soft whistling and cooing from your winged friend. His hand grabbed your chin, running his thumb gently over your bottom lip. “I’ve been tryin’ to impress you for weeks... drove out all my competition, so in the end you’d only pick me.”

It was all starting to make sense now.

“Spring is mating season for birds like me... so everything I’ve been doin’ is to get you to choose me to be your mate. I want you to be my dove. I want you to be mine.” Everything finally connected now. Even why Mirko sounded so weird on the phone earlier when you called to ask about what was happening. Your face flushed in embarrassment at this newfound revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner... I... feel horrible for what I said earlier! Your jealous behavior... your weird noise making meant to impress me but I insulted it!” Hawks covered his mouth and started to laugh. You glared at him, trying to be serious and apologize the right way. And he was just sitting there laughing at you! “Oh man, sorry chicken wing, but I insult you, all the fuckin’ time, and its fun. Watchin’ you get all flustered and angry, I live for it. You shouldn’ feel bad at all to get a couple jabs at me.”

“Shut up you dumbass. Let me speak...” A pout spread across his face and he stared intensely at you, his beautiful golden eyes shaking you up to your core. You rubbed your arm a bit embarrassed, and averted your gaze to the ground. “Considering... everything you’ve just told me. I need to clarify and face my feelings.” His eyes widened and his mouth hung slightly agape, his wings flapping gently in anxiousness. You smiled and pulled him close by the collar of his jacket, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before pulling away quickly not get him riled up again. “It’s safe to say I only see you, Hawks. And you don’t have to worry about me picking anyone else. You’re my pretty bird. You always have been.”

He sighed in relief and smirked smugly. “I knew you were in love with me, dove. I’m just too irresistible, even for you~”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

So many of those smut prompts sound like our favorite asshole, Nathan Bateman. So let’s do smut #12 with Nathan pleeeasee.

Oh, I love writing Nathan Bateman, I do not do it very often so let me know what you think. Thank you for the request lovely. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking! 

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (Language, Oral F! Receiving (Explicit), Nathan Bateman) 

Word Count: 2K

My Masterlist

Prompt # 12 “The food looks great, but…there’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.” - Nathan Bateman.

Seven days. It had been seven days since you’d see Nathan Bateman, and he fucking lived here. He was like a ghost, haunting the hallways while you slept, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and empty bottles of alcohol in the trash bin. Besides those small things, you wouldn’t know anyone was in the house besides yourself.

You had to get out of this house. You went to the closet and got out your brown hiking boots and changed into your fleece leggings and a sweater, tugging your rain jacket on over it. It was lightly misting outside, and you enjoyed taking deep breaths of the fresh air and the melodies of nature. The sweet coo of the birds and the snap of branches as animals scurried into their burrows.

Your backpack slung over your shoulder held a delicious picnic lunch for you to enjoy at the glacier towards the end of the trail. Fresh cut apples, with a dip made of Greek yogurt, peanut butter, and honey, a baguet piled high with prosciutto, mozzarella, and arugula, a large brownie filled with peanut M&M’s a personal favorite. It felt good to be making something just for yourself.

Cooking for Nathan usually meant green smoothies, chicken, and rice, things that would keep him trim. Although he did love your brownies. You frowned, thinking of your boss and what the past year was like living here in the wilderness, so far from civilization. After his ‘incident’ with one of his inventions nearly killing him, he’d hired you to become a housekeeper/assistant. Although he never required you to do any assistant work, unless it included dictation. But he spoke so fast he usually just turned on the text to speech anyways.

This had been the longest he’d gone without seeing you, and it concerned you greatly. If it weren’t for the empty dishes, you’d think he was dead in the lab. The thought turning your stomach sour of a world without Nathan Bateman. No, he was not ideal. He was an asshole most of the time, always needing to get the last word and prove his intelligence. You’d told him one night that it wasn’t a competition after he’d interrupted you again with some obscure fact. He’d just smirked and told you everything was.

You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him over the past week. Living so isolated and away from everyone made you depend on each other more for human interaction. Almost every night after dinner, he would sit at the counter nursing a drink and talk to you about his work. Most of it went over your head, but it was the time he took to speak to you that mattered. When you’d first arrived, he spent most of the time ignoring you unless he absolutely needed you.

You keep walking further and further down the trail smiling at the night that changed it all. You’d been on the couch in the living room, rain splattering against the windowpane, a fire warming the room—the TV showing your favorite romantic comedy, When Harry Met Sally. Nathan had come into the kitchen for another beer and was walking back to the lab when he heard moaning sounds coming from the living room. He’d quickly come to sit down next to you, pulling the blanket draped over you across his lap to share, eyes transfixed on the TV.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, looking at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, she told him that women fake orgasms sometimes, and men can’t tell. He said he could tell, so she is pretending to have an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant.”

He laughs, and it shocks you as you both turn back to the screen, watching Sally slam her hands down on the table and scream out her climax. He stayed for the entire movie, pulling the bowl of popcorn between the two of you and taking handfuls. When your hands touched both, reaching into the bowl, he froze and quickly withdrew his hand.

The touch had been eclectic, and you swore you could still feel the tingles today, the zings traveling up your arm. His commentary during the movie had you laughing harder than the movie. He watched you, eyes beaming as you snorted and were almost in tears, his smile stretched across his face. It was at that moment you’d realized you’d never seen someone more handsome in your life.

You shook your head and kept walking. It wasn’t right to have those feelings for your boss. But it was hard not to when things changed so much after that night. Movie nights became a weekly thing; he’d stayed after dinner to talk, you’d been on several hikes together, he became more. You fell in love with him, and it fucking sucked.

You reach the glacier and take a moment to appreciate the view. The sun hitting the side of the ice, making it almost appear blue to the eye. The water crashing over the bottom, the cool air brushing against your face. You sit down your pack, pull out the blanket you’d brought, the one from the couch you used to sit under with Nathan, and lay it out. Sitting in the middle and taking out your lunch containers and novel to enjoy for the few hours of fresh air you desperately needed.

“So this is where you ran off too,” Nathan’s voice surprises you from behind, and you toss the apple slice in your hand in the air with a yelp. “Jesus Nathan!” you shout, “Did you have to sneak up on me?”

“I can’t help it if your unobservant,” he chastises playfully, “What the hell are you doing out here? You never go on hikes without me.”

You look at him incredulously, “Did you forget that I haven’t seen you in seven days?!” You can’t help the way your voice cracks, and he locks his eyes on your quivering lip.

“I-I,” he never stumbles over his words, and you look at him in shock, “I’m sorry, alright?”

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly. He takes a seat beside you on the blanket and looks out over the landscape, nodding.

“Yeah, I just- I just needed to figure some things out. But,” he turns to you, “I know what I need to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

He ignores you and reaches for the container with the sandwich pulling it out, smooshing it between his hands, and pulling it in for a bite. The little bit of mayonnaise dribbles down his beard, and you reach forward without thinking to brush it off with your thumb. You keep his eyes as you move the finger to your lip and lick it off. He clears his throat and puts down the sandwich reaching for an apple slice and slipping it into the dip.

You watch his eyes close around the first heavenly bite, and you bite your lip at the look of pure ecstasy on his face. “What do you think?” you ask, grinning.

He opens his eyes and reaches for another slice and slathering it in the dip before popping the whole thing in his mouth and sucking the rest of his finger. “The food looks great, but...there’s something much more delicious I’d rather eat right now.” He turns his head to look at you, and the air is sucked from your lungs. There is a hunger growing in his russet eyes, and it’s not from your lunch.

“What- what d-do you m-mean?” now you are one stumbling over your words, and he smirks. He takes his time repacking the containers and clearing the blanket before he reaches for you. He scoots himself closer and puts both hands around the sides of your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you want to know what I had to figure out this week?” he asks quietly, and you nod, clinging to his every word. “I needed to figure out a way to tell you I want to be with you.”

“Y-you mean more than my b-boss?” you stutter.

He chuckles darkly, “Well, you can still call me sir, but not because I pay you,” he teases, and you bite your lip, chewing on it. His eyes are drawn to it, and he uses his thumb and pulls it from your teeth and down. “I want to kiss you,”  he whispers deeply, “okay, Kitten?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you groan, shutting your eyes and leaning forward.

He chuckles and pulls you close, “you called,” he teased and slotted his mouth over yours, his beard brushing against your face, softer than your expected. The smell of bergamot drifting over you, the beard oil you bought him for his birthday. He licks against your bottom lip, and you open, allowing your tongues to wrestle. His hands leaving your neck and pushing your shoulder down gently so he can straddle you. His forearms braced on either side of your head, his nose brushing against yours.

His lips travel down to your neck, and his hands move over your coat, sliding the zipper down and pulling it open. His mouth presses hot wet kisses against your collarbone, and you throw your head back and moan as he kneads your breast through the sweater. “Fuck,” he whispers, moving lower and sliding past your breasts. He nips at you through the fabric, and your buck up into him. Your hands gliding over his shoulders so broad in his coat.

He hovers over you, looking into your eyes with lust blown pupils. His hand reaching towards your bottoms. You nod, and he begins shimmying them down your hips, along with your panties. He watches your pussy wet and dripping like it’s a Monet in an art museum, and he runs a thick finger between your folds.

When he hears your soft whimpers, his eyes travel up to you, and he keeps your eye contact as he dips his head forward and licks broad strokes through your cunt. His mouth latches onto your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, causing your hips to rise. “Nathan,” you moan, “please,” you beg, and he pulls off with a pop.

“I’m just trying to enjoy this delicious picnic you packed for me Kitten, don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He smiles as you throw your head back as he teases a finger at your entrance before sliding it inside you and curving gently. His tongue goes back to teasing your clit, sucking it, and nipping lightly, never enough to be painful.

He slowly drags his finger in and out of you, drawing out the pleasure before he adds a second finger. Your fingers slip beneath your sweater and pull on your nipple with your left hand. The right coming down to keep his head down on your clit. When he adds a third finger and begins to circle your clit with his tongue, you feel the dam break. The pleasure coursing through you is almost drowned out by the crashing water below.

He lets you ride it out until you groan and push at his head and pull him up to your lips. He tangles his tongue with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulls away with a proud smile on his face, his beard glistening in your juices. “How was that?” he asks.

You let out a laugh and smile, “Fucking amazing,” you pant attempting to catch your breath, “Are you going to fuck me, Mr. Bateman?” He sighs before rolling off you and to your side, interlacing your fingers with his own and looking at the blue sky above you.

“Eventually,” he turns his head and looks at you, “I am going to fuck you on every single square inch of that house, and then when I’m done, I’m going to do it again.” He sits up and pulls your leggings back up, and buttons them shut, making sure you’re warm. “But right now,” he reaches for you and tucks you into his side, pressing his lips on your forehead, “I am going to enjoy a day out with you. I’ve fucking missed you this week.”

You smile and reach an arm across his chest and place your head on his chest, “Oh Nathan, I really missed you too.”

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[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 2

In which: Danny thinks, Talia is concerned, and we finally see Ra's al Ghul's pride an joy: the Lazarus pit

AO3 | Prologue | 1 | [ 2 ] | 3 |

---

DANNY COUNTS THE DAYS by the hours he is in the monitor room. One hour is all that he is allowed. One hour after a day of learning and fighting, of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir’ and ‘stand up straighter, boy’ and ‘remember that you have feet.’ Of being handed a sword only to have it knocked out of his hand (pickitup-pickitup-pick-it-up). Of ‘here’s eight plants, only one of them is the antidote to the poison you just ingested, and you better hope you remember the difference because this is the life you live now, Danny.’ This is what you agreed to for some time in front of a few television screen.

One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred measly fucking seconds was all he got to see his family before he’s ushered back to his room. Dark. Barren. Windowless.

God, when was the last time he saw the stars?

He spent his multitude of ‘one hours’ simply watching. That was all he could do, really. Watch and collect snatches of Amity—of Before. Like torn pieces of an antique photograph, unable to be restored but too precious to throw away.

Talia would call him too sentimental. Danny would love to remind Talia that if it wasn’t for her and her freaky older-than-dirt dad, Danny wouldn’t even need to be fucking sentimental.

Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Repeat.

Repeat again.

One more time.

There’s a voice in Danny’s head that sounded too much like Jazz telling him that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The Jazz in Danny’s head didn’t exactly know why, though they’re both pretty sure that constantly watching your family and friends move on after your death probably isn’t good for one’s sanity. Especially since Danny isn’t really dead.

Well.

Dead-er.

He isn’t—

(family-love-mememe-why aren’t they looking harder-don’t they care-they care-for their own good-what about-happy-no-me-them-me-them).

Truth be told, Danny isn’t angry that everyone in Amity seemed to be getting on with their lives. God, he’s seen how his suppsed-death affected them. He can’t—he won’t be responsible for holding them back from living when he can’t even be sure if he’ll ever be able to return to Amity again.

(He’s seen what happens when someone refuses to move on. Hell, the Zone is full of it. It’s either you obsess with grief…or you try to rip it out of yourself entirely.)

Danny wanted them to live on. Be happy. (With him.)The FentonWorks portal remained under constant vigilance, and since Pariah Dark, most ghosts recognized Amity as his haunt and tended to stay away. With any major threats he could only hope that Clockwork would step in somehow and at least keep it contained. Tucker and Sam were more than capable enough to handle most of his regular rogues gallery, especially if Red Huntress was backing them up too.

Amity…didn’t really need Danny anymore to protect it.

(Family-happy-protectprotectprotect-what?-safe-not safe-not needed).

For all that they tried to find out, Danny, Sam, and Tucker never did manage to figure out what his ghostly obsession was. Sam went out on a limb and said Heroism which…wasn’t quite right but fit the bill well enough.

And what was the point of heroes?

To build a world where they aren’t needed.

------

There was a noticeable shift in her son’s demeanor after he learned of the true nature of his parentage. Though it should be noted that while Talia showed a photograph of her beloved to Daniel, she did not disclose his true identity as to Ra’s al Ghul’s orders. Her father reasoned that it was more advantageous for Daniel to develop a closer connection with the maternal side of his family as opposed to the Waynes—a name that would be more familiar and thus better viewed than the strange people who kidnapped him.

No; ‘Recovered’ would be the most appropriate term. Daniel was her child. Would always be her child, no matter who raised him.

Daniel was…quieter. Somber. His eyes glazed yet sharp—blue eyes bloodshot despite maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Like pit madness with neither the madness nor the pit; simply the look of rage that bubbles beneath the skin, close to boiling over yet never there.

He continued to watch his false family obsessively. Yet…he had taken to watching Talia as well. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Small glances at the corner of his eye. Contemplative looks with furrowed brows whenever he presumed she did not notice. He had even taken to meticulously check his reflection in the mirror; pinching cheeks and turning his face this way and that, cataloguing his features as if to find what parts of him was from her—or perhaps if there was any part of him that ever resembled the paranormal scientists he once called parents.

Even if the physical similarities were not there, the DNA testing—regardless of the anomalies found in Daniel’s genes—was proof enough that he was her son.

“You have been keeping with your diet regimen, yes?” Asked one of the League’s physicians. He pressed his gloved fingers against Daniel’s skin, brushing the ridges of his ribcage. Marring her son’s skin was a large, faint scars. Fractals branching across his torso like the branches of a gruesome tree. “You are still too thin.”

“Fast metabolism,” Daniel mumbled. He is sat on an examination table in their medical wing, black shirt neatly folded beside him. His figure, though not skeletal, per se, was gaunt. His ribs poking from his pallor skin, stomach still concave for a boy who ate double the portions than any other member of the League of Assassins. “I’ve had it since the accident, but it’s never gotten this bad.”

The physician hummed, jotting his notes down along side the results of Danny’s vitals. The exact numbers were unknown to Talia, standing as she was by the door, though she could infer the results from previous physical examinations. (Low blood pressure and core body temperature. Faint pulse, slight tachycardia,) “Do you have any ideas why?”

Daniel’s lips thinned, eyes darting to the side as he always did whenever Phantom was related in anyway. His face was too open; Talia needed to train him out of that. “My…” He took a deep breath. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to stay very long in the Material world. It lacks the ectoplasmic energies that helps them ‘stay alive,’ so to speak. Usually they can supplement some of this by filtering some of the ambient energy in the atmosphere to strengthen themselves—it’s why Amity was such a hotspot for ghosts because of the large concentration of ectoplasm in the atmosphere—but it still isn’t a good long term solution.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Since I’m still somewhat human, I’m able to spend way more time in the Material world and can substitute spending days in the Zone by instead filtering ambient energy and eating.”

The physician made another noise, the tip of his pen tapping against the side of the clipboard. “So I take it then that, as your other half doesn’t have access to this ‘ambient energy’ as you call it, it is forced to take what energy it needs from the calories you’ve consumed, yes?”

“Basically.”

“What will happen if you do not have enough calories to supplement this energy?”

Danny shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “Dunno. Maybe this time, death will stick.”

Talia narrowed her eyes.

Such a thing will not happen. She had been forced to give up on Daniel once, and then later on she lost her youngest to her beloved. Never again.

This child was hers.

------

“Father, did you not say that the anomalies found in Daniel’s DNA were similar in composition to the Lazarus pit?”

Ra’s al Ghul did not pause in pause in his reading to look up at Talia. The bird shaped magnifying glass held steady above the ancient manuscripts spread across his desk, eyes focused on the words and figures carefully inked onto the page. “Yes.” He set aside the magnifying glass and gently flipped the page. “It is what strengthened my belief of the connection between the Lazarus pit and these spirits.”

Talia straightened. “With your permission I would like to place Daniel into the pit.”

Her fathered looked up, curious. “You forget what the pit does to those who are in good health.”

She placed the results of Daniel’s most recent physical exam on to of his desk. Ra’s sat back in his chair and idly flipped through the folder, reading the contents as if no different to reading the newspaper instead of how his grandson is slowly being starved by his own biology. “Well, well. This would be a problem.”

He closed the folder, a wry grin curling at his lips. “Have him ready for tomorrow. I am curious as to how the pit would affect one already half-dead.”

------

Danny is awoken by Talia sometime the next day. “Come,” she said. “You do not need to change, so come quickly.”

He got off the bed with a silent groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Somewhere that will help you.”

He snorted. “Letting me go home would help me.”

Talia doesn’t answer, simply waiting for him at the door. Danny groaned, combing away as much of his bedhead with his fingers as he followed her.

For the first time since being dragged to Nanda Parbat, Danny is allowed to venture beyond his small section of the compound.

He didn’t really know what to expect.

Still didn’t stop everything from being so…anticlimactic.

Beyond the steel door, normally kept locked and guarded by two of his shadow guards, was a hallway. Endlessly long with a wide pathway, lit enough by the fluorescent lights overhead but not enough to banish the shadows that clung to the stone walls. The hallway looked empty. ‘Looked’ being the key word, here. Even if he couldn’t see them, Danny would bet on his half-life that the shadows were teeming with life.

Talia led the way through the maze of twists and turns (were they underground?), a couple of shadow guards quietly following behind them.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Talia looked at him from over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away. “Have you heard of the Lazarus pits?”

“Lazarus? Like the guy who came back to life?” Neither of his parents were really religious. His dad only really Baptist in name because he was born into a Baptist family that, too, wasn’t overly strict in their religion. The only reason why Danny knew of this Lazarus guy was because of Mr. Lancer’s unit on Greco-Roman and Christian allusions.

Talia nodded, turning a corner. “The Lazarus pits are natural pools with restorative properties, capable of rejuvenating the body, healing grievous injuries, and even bringing the dead back to life.”

Danny nearly tripped over his own feet. “What? That’s—” Impossible. He ran up to Talia, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “What’s dead is dead. Resurrecting the dead goes against the natural law of the universe!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s different. I’m still dead, even if my entire existence seems like the but end of a Schrodinger’s joke.”

“Be that as it may, what I speak is truth.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. Then, stepping aside to usher Danny in first. “See of yourself.”

Danny stepped inside, Talia following behind him, and—

Oh.

Before he even saw the pit, he could feel it. A low and steady hum reminiscent of the ghost portal. But…different. Not necessarily fainter but garbled, like hearing someone speak underwater.

The room was a large, open space, with stone walls framed by red wooden pillars. It was dim, lit only by the green glow of the pit that consumed the majority of the space. A square pool of too-clear waters and toxic-looking steam rising from the surface.

The waters felt of the Zone but…not.

“Ah, Daniel.” He nearly jumped out of his own skin. Ra’s al Ghul stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands folded behind his back. The green glow highlighted the sharp contours of his face; the shadows that clung to him only making his visage harsher. “It is good to see you.”

Danny greeted the Demon’s Head with a League salute. “Grandfather.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue despite being in English. To formal for a boy who never really had the chance to interact with his own grandparents. But Danny was told to refer to Ra’s like this, and so he did. (He was only grateful Talia didn’t insist on calling her ‘mother.’)

Ra’s al Ghul was an enigma. Centuries old yet he looked only about a decade older than his mom and dad. (Jack and Maddie Fenton will always be his mom and dad. They raised him. Loved him, in their own eccentric, science-y way. No blood test or adoption or ninja-assassins could change that). Like Danny’s still-unnamed biological father, Ra’s carried himself with theatrical purpose. Comically villainous in his attire and grand gestures, though unlike Vlad, Ra’s had this overwhelmingly intimidating presence that engulfed whatever room he stepped in.

Ra’s was a man that commanded attention as opposed to demanding it. And now, at the focus of the man’s calculating gaze, Danny could not help but stand stiff at attention.

“You’re mother was right,” Ra’s said. Danny barely restrained himself from perking up at that word. “You are wasting away, Daniel.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“Well, at least you still have that fire in you.”

Danny startled, slapping his hand over his mouth. Shit, he didn’t know he said that out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Talia suppressed a small smile.

“You have that in common with the Detective,” Ra’s continue, circling Danny like a carrion that spotted its next meal. “That and the rather foolish notion on not properly reporting the extent of your injuries.”

“With all due respect, grandfather, I wasn’t expecting on staying here for this long.”

Ra’s gave him a knowing look. “But something is keeping you here, isn’t it?”

“Keeping my family and friends hostage is a pretty good motivator, apparently.” An insidious thought bubbled in Danny’s mind. But that isn’t all, is it?”

“I have consulted your mother and your physician as to the nature of your condition, and I have decided that the Lazarus pit would be a sufficient way to restore your health.” He gestured to the pool. “It appears that your DNA shares several similarities to the composition to the Lazarus pit.”

Danny crouched at the edge of the pit, hovering his hand above the water’s surface. “It’s because it contains ectoplasm. An impure kind, I think.”

“Will the impurities be harmful to you?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think so? My body can filter out the impurities just fine, it’s just that I’ve never encountered thistype of ectoplasm before. It’s so clear and—aqueous, I think is the word.”

There’s a strange glint in Ra’s eyes. Dare Danny say it, it even looked mischievous. It made him uneasy, and just as Danny made a move to step back, Ra’s al Ghul picked him up by the collar of his night shirt—

And threw Danny into the Lazarus Pit.

[blueprint-han]

pink cherry blossoms.

pairing: changbin x (gender neutral) reader.

genre: high school au ; fluff.

⇥ warnings: none, changbin is Y/N’s high school pen pal + bf + and she’s a foreign exchange student uwu. 🥰

word count: 1.4 K

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Seo Changbin, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

network tag: @stayverse​ @districtninewriters​ @inkidz​ + @sunoo-luvs​​

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @pinkchcn​ (requests for this are closed now!)

!!!; bold italics indicate Changbin’s letter.

↯ note: hhhhhh so the story for this comes from when I first read your url, I read it as “pink chicken” siudhyuegfw I’m so sorry if has a deeper meaning I by no means meant to mock it I swear. 😭 Hope you enjoy this blurb tho, this is in no way comparable to your awesome writing you queen but I tried. 😔 Happy reading! <33⇥ dawn.☀️

↯ note 2: Okay now that tumblr officially fucked with my self-esteem + the tags I am glad to announce that this is officially the worst fic ever Kai I’m so sorry I made you read this. 😭 I’ll go boo at myself now bye :(( ⇥ dawn.☀️

“Y/N-ah, you got mail.” Your roommate chimed in Japanese, throwing the envelope on top of your sleeping form. You groaned, shuffling under the mess of sheets. It was a Sunday, of all times! What reason did your friend find to wake you up early? You didn’t take the intrusion of sleep well.

“What?” Grubbily, you straightened up from the lower bunk of the bed, rubbing over your eyes as you squinted to look at your friend, who was silently giggling at the way your hair looked like a bird’s nest, all poofed up and sticking out in random places. “You got mail.” She repeated, tucking back her neatly combed hair behind her ear, before plopping a small parcel in front of you. “The letter was attached to this.”

“I know that.” You asked, throwing the blankets over your torso, snuggling into it’s warmth. “What could be so important that you had to wake me up for the mail?’ A soft huff from your lips and you rubbed over your eyes, trying to push away any remnants of sleep. “Couldn’t you have just left it on my table?” Shoving the envelope to the side.

“It’s from your boyfriend~” Your friend in a sing song voice, laughing when you lit up at the little admission. “Have fun reading it! I’m gonna go to the park. You need something?”

“Get me some cherry blossoms.” You stretched your limbs, any last signs of grubbiness gone with the wind. It was officially spring, which meant that the whole city was coated in pink, cherry blossoms of varying shades everywhere, and you loved the scenery they provided — especially from your balcony.

“Are you gonna send them to Changbin?” Your friend asked.

“Oh gosh, are you gonna keep asking me questions or are you gonna go?” Grabbing the pillow behind you, you chucked it at her head, laughing in victory when she was unable to dodge it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “See you later.”

Deciding it as a good time to get out of bed, you quickly brushed your teeth, washed your face and tied your hair into a braid before staring at the envelope strewn on the bed. Your two other roommates were both outside already — you could read the letter in peace.

Plopping yourself onto the soft mattress, you covered yourself with the blankets once again before turning the envelope in your hand. Your address was neatly written in his handwriting, followed by three hearts and one winky face. The drawings warmed your heart as you unwrapped the package that came along with it.

It took you a while, but you eventually had the box opened and the tore the envelope, revealing a small piece of paper that had been crookedly folded in half, as though in hurry. Knowing Changbin, you knew better than to just assume that the letter was short, because that man had the tiniest handwriting you’d ever seen — being his pen pal meant you’d have to basically become a human magnifying glass.

Grabbing your reading glasses, you let them hang over your nose as you squinted, trying to read the letter.

Dear Y/N,

Hi^^ hope you’re having a lovely time there, darling~ it’s been going quite okay here. >w< Binnie misses you a lot-

You bit your lip to stifle your laughter. The fact that he’d actually bothered to draw emojis and use aegyo in his letter made you melt in warmth. You sunk back into the plush cushions as you continued reading his letter.

-and I sure hope you’re missing me too okay !! >:( don’t forget about me !! Anyways, it’s starting to get cold over here and mom forces me to pull over that dusty jacket that only makes me sneeze. Honestly I wish you were here, I miss your cuddles :(( But how’s everything going on there? Are you eating properly? Are you getting sufficient sleep? You better or else I’m gonna revoke my cuddles and hugs when you get back here after two months !! Remember to eat, drink water and sleep well okay!! That’s an order!! Or else. >:(

By the time you reached this part of the letter, you were already melting at how adorably concerned he sounded, even through writing. Your giggles were taking no name to stop as you clutched your letter. Feeling the heat creep up to your cheeks as you sighed, in love. You loved how he could make you forget everything around you and drown in everything Seo Changbin, and Seo Changbin only.

Anyways, I sent something for you!! Open the package !! ^^  It reminded me of you so I hope you liked it.

You tilted your head to the side as you flipped the lid of the box open, looking at one of those customizable “summer greetings” card (which was weird, considering that he’d just said it was getting colder)… and, a chicken?

You scowled in confusion as you picked up the plastic object, examining it thoroughly i your hands. It was colored in the usual hues of a normal chicken, but it nonetheless confused you. It reminded you of one of those plastic toys Changbin’s niece owned — in fact, you were almost 85% sure it was his niece’s.

“This reminded him of me? What the hell!” You glanced at the letter with a pout on your face, eyes searching for answers. For some reasons, butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach, producing a jittery sensation. Ignoring that, you continued reading, noticing a portion of the letter remaining.

Okay keukeukeukeu now that you’ve probably opened it you’re most likely confused and mad at me, and to that I say it was a prank :D That was’s Hyunae’s old toys keukeukeukeu hope you got fooled though. >:) Remove the cloth from the box and see what’s underneath now^^ Promise it’s not a chicken keukeukeuekeu >w<

You narrowed your eyes at the piece of paper, and then the box, noticing the cloth that seemed like it covered something underneath. Reaching out for it, you placed the box in your lap before holding your breath, gently taking the fabric out. You couldn’t be blamed for being nervous, okay? You just received a toy chicken as a souvenir from your boyfriend! A chicken, out of all things!

But, however, your suspicions were put to rest when the cloth was lifted. What you saw inside the box, was by far and most easily, one of the most beautiful gifts you’d ever received, and you felt a slight pang in your heart as your jaw dropped in awe.

It was a dark metal hairband, but the thing that was pretty about it was the tiny cherry blossoms that were arranged on top of it — just by looking at it, you could tell Changbin had spent hours making and coloring those clay flowers, let along moulding and placing them so perfectly. Small, shiny pearls placed in the centre of each flower shined in the light, and you internally swooned at hoe pretty it looked. Nothing could compare to anything you’d bought from the store, ever.

So this was his gift, huh?

“Wow,” You mumbled to yourself, gently and carefully sliding the headband onto your hair. It was heavy, but not that heavy and comfortable enough to wear frequently, you continued reading.

Aaaah i really hope you like it !! I spent about three days making this in craft class, and even the teacher said it came out well (also this reminded me of you please don’t be mad keukeukeuekue), I hope you like it darling !! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Remember to write back to me okay !! I love you !! take care darling, bye~

With love

your boyfriend Seo Changbin.  ♡ ♡

You smiled when the letter ended, almost (almost) tearing up with how touched you were. Changbin had immense craftmanship indeed, but this by far, was one of the most beautiful pieces he’d ever made, let alone gifted to you.

“Wow, that’s pretty! Did Changbin send that?” You snapped up to look at your friend, who gazed at your headband in awe.

“Yeah!” Covering your mouth, you giggled. “Did you bring it?”

“Mhm,” Your friend carefully handed the delicate flower to you, and you quickly rushed to your cupboard, getting the little journal you’d made over the three months you were here. Once you sat back down on the bed after grabbing a pen, you opened the page titled ‘Spring’ and cautiously taped the cherry blossom onto the page, closing the book shit so it could be pressed into paper. After that it was the obvious, you quickly wrote him a note, smiling to yourself as you ran your hand across the flower crown you adorned on your head.

And of course, when Changbin opened the package two days later to receive the moderately fresh, pressed flower along with your stories and your note, a smile pulled at his lips in an instant.

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor at least this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️