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hoshifighting · 1 month

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— jihoon + roomates to lovers — mrs. lee might think her son is focused on his books, but the truth is, jihoon’s attention is entirely on you.

— synopsis: mrs. lee is a strict, no-nonsense mother determined to keep her son, jihoon, focused on his studies. her only condition for letting him have a roommate in his dorm is that it has to be a boy—no distractions allowed. when jihoon reveals that his new roommate is you, a childhood friend she remembers as a sweet, innocent girl, mrs. lee is ultimately relieved. surely, you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with him… right? — WC: 2.6k — WARNINGS: smut, clit stimulation, dirty talk, penetrative sex, oral (f.receiving) pervert!jihoon, mentions of another, making sex on the couch jihoon's mom bought being mentioned, them almost getting caught, jihoon's mom being strict.

you were sitting across from mrs. lee, the woman’s gaze piercing as she stirred her tea with a delicate clink. she hadn’t changed much since the days you rang her doorbell with scouter cookies in hand—still the same sharp eyes, still the same subtle judgment wrapped in a soft smile. “you’re not going to do something like that with him, right?” she asked, her voice dripping with the kind of sweetness that left a bitter aftertaste.

you could feel jihoon shifting awkwardly beside you, his discomfort almost tangible. he hadn’t said a word since his mother had started this impromptu interrogation, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand clenched around the arm of the chair. he was too old to be treated like this, you thought, but still too young in her eyes to make his own decisions.

“of course not, mrs. lee,” you replied, your voice as innocent as you could muster, though the irony wasn’t lost on you. you had grown up, after all. “i’m just here to help out with rent. that’s all.”

“good girl,” she murmured, taking a sip of her tea. “i knew i could trust you. you always were such a sweet little thing.”

you forced a smile, but inside, something coiled tight. it wasn’t the first time someone had underestimated you, but there was something about the way mrs. lee did it that made your skin itch. maybe it was the fact that she was right, in a way. you weren’t here just to split rent with jihoon. no, your reasons, or his reasons were far from innocent, but they were none of her business.

[...]

“you’re not going to do something like this with him, right?”

BZZZZZZTT! HAHA! DAMN WRONG.

mrs. lee’s voice was just a distant memory now, drowned out by the heat of jihoon’s mouth on yours, his grip tight on your ass as he pushed you up against the wall in the dorm hallway. the sweet, shy boy she thought she knew? long fucking gone, replaced by this guy who couldn’t even wait to get inside before pawing at you like an animal. the taste of alcohol was heavy on his breath, mixed with the remnants of the cigarette you’d both shared earlier, and the way he was devouring your mouth left no doubt about what was coming next.

if only she knew this was your routine—every time he came back from a night of drinking and smoking with you, his hands were on you before the door even closed behind him. you’d barely made it through the door last time before he had you bent over the arm of the couch—the very couch she’d picked out and bought for his dorm—fucking you so hard you were sure the neighbors had heard every slap of skin against skin.

“jihoon,” you gasped against his mouth, but the sound of his name only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your ass tightening as he ground his hips against yours. “can’t even wait, can you?”

“fuck no,” he muttered, lips trailing down to your neck, his teeth scraping over your skin in a way that made your knees weak. “need you now.”

you didn’t protest when he practically dragged you to the couch, his hands already tugging at your clothes as he pushed you down onto the cushions. the look in his eyes was wild, nothing like the shy boy mrs. lee still saw in her mind. this was a man driven by pure, unfiltered need, and you were more than willing to let him take what he wanted.

“she’d lose her mind if she knew,” you teased, voice breathless as you wriggled out of your clothes, your eyes locked on his as he yanked his shirt over his head.

“don’t care,” he growled, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. his hands were everywhere—tracing the curve of your waist, squeezing your thighs, rough fingers brushing over your nipples.

oh, you two were damn lucky that this couch couldn’t talk, because if it could, it’d be the first to spill the beans to mrs. lee. blabbing about all the times jihoon’s had you spread out on it, making you cum on his mouth like it was his favorite fucking meal. this couch had seen more than its fair share of your moans and gasps, had felt the tremors of your body when he made you melt in his pretty little mouth, and if it could, it’d give mrs. lee a full report—every dirty detail.

too bad for her, though, because this couch? it kept secrets like a vault, and tonight was just another deposit.

jihoon had your clit in his mouth, sucking on it like it his life depended on it. the way he worked his tongue made sure you couldn’t form a single coherent thought. every flick of his tongue against that sensitive nerve was so fast, so precise, it felt like he’d turned into a human vibrator, leaving your mind completely scrambled. he had you quiet, reduced to nothing but gasps and moans, and fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

and jihoon was downright filthy. he’d pull his tongue away just enough to show off the slick, glistening line connecting it to your clit, a blatant display of how much he was enjoying every second. the sight alone was enough to drive you wild his nasty face + his greedy mouth.

jihoon took his time eating you out, like he was conducting a symphony. every flick and swirl of his tongue was calculated to build you up, to make sure you were more than ready for when he’d finally shove his fat cock inside you.

he made damn sure you came enough to be completely dazed, your mind a foggy mess as if every coherent thought had been wiped from your head. when he finally pulled away to grab a condom, you were left sprawled on the couch, still in the same position he’d left you in, utterly wrecked. he’d bite his lip to hold back a laugh, clearly amused by how out of it you were.

you prop up on the couch, your ass practically waving at him. he gave you a playful slap on your ass before sliding the condom on, his eyes sparkling nastily, but his mouth had a cute smile.

“good girl,” he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

you shot him a half-hearted frown, shaking your head. “don’t tell me your momma used to say the same thing?”

he chuckled, sliding in with a slow, deliberate push. “well, she might’ve. but i’m pretty sure she wasn’t talking about this.”

“yeah, i’d hope not,” you retorted, letting out a breathy moan as he filled you. “because if she was, i think we’d have a whole different family dinner conversation.”

“can’t argue with that,” he said, pressing deeper, a grin tugging at his lips. “but, you’re still my favorite good girl.”

you tightened your pussy grip around his cock, a playful warning. “yeah? well, you better remember that. you only have me.”

jihoon’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he felt the squeeze. “a-ah! okay, okay, true, true! you’re the only one—no one else gets this much of me.”

you grinned, feeling him twitch inside you. “oh, really? because i could’ve sworn you said that to your last—”

“stop!” he interrupted, laughing between his moans. “no more exes, i swear! it’s all you, babe.”

“glad to hear it. i wouldn’t want to share my favorite toy.”

he laughed heartedly. “believe me, i wouldn’t let anyone else near it. you’ve got exclusive rights.”

“damn right i do,” you said, giving him another teasing squeeze. “now show me why i’m the only one who gets to enjoy this.”

jihoon groaned, sliding in deeper with a satisfied grunt. “you got it, babe, and this”—he thrusts just a bit harder—“is all yours.”

you felt your ego swell with his confession, knowing it might be flattery, but it was in these moments—when he was deep inside you—that you could unlock jihoon’s secrets. a well-timed squeeze or a slick suck was all it took.

“jihoonie it feels amazing… you’re making me lose my mind.”

“losing your mind, huh?” jihoon’s voice was a low, teasing purr. “do you like it when i hit that spot, make you shake like this?”

you could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. “yes, fuck… don’t stop.”

he chuckled, his hips snapping forward with intentional force. “what’s it gonna take to make you admit i’m the best? more of this? or maybe you want me to keep making you come so hard you can’t even think?”

your breath caught in your throat, escaping as a breathy gasp as you throbbed around him. you cursed under your breath, realizing that if you had known this shy guy had such a filthy side, you would’ve jumped his bones way sooner.

just as you were about scream his name, you heard a series of knocks on the door, making both of you freeze. you glanced back over your shoulder, eyes wide with panic. jihoon’s face was a mask of concentrated silence as he put a finger to his lips, shushing you—like it wasn’t painfully obvious what was happening.

he then clasped a hand over your mouth, pulling you flush against his chest. starting to roll his hips deep and slow, your eyes rolling back.

“don’t you dare make a sound, babe. if you want me to keep going, you better stay quiet.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, cursing the person at the door for the awful timing. all you wanted was to scream his name, let the whole building know how fucking amazing jihoon was making you feel. and he was as into it as you were, if not more.

“you’re gonna stay quiet and take every inch.”

“i want to come so bad, jihoon. i wanna scream it.” you mumbled through his hand.

jihoon’s breath turned into a desperate whine against your ear, the knocks at the door growing more insistent with each passing second.

“fuck, i swear if they don’t shut up,” he muttered, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. despite the distraction, he kept his movements steady, his cock still sliding in and out with the perfect pressure.

you shivered, clamping down on him, your body quaking with the effort to stay quiet. “jihoon, i need to come so badly,” you whispered through clenched teeth. “can’t you just…”

“shhh,” he murmured, his voice a seductive growl. his grip on you tightened, pulling you even closer, as if trying to drown out the unwanted noise.

“goddammit,” he whispered fiercely in your ear, his voice trembling with and irritation. “i can’t believe this shit. i’m gonna make you come anyway. just stay with me.”

you could only manage a muffled whimper in response, your hips still moving in sync with his.

jihoon could feel your warm puffs of breath on his palm, your breath coming faster as you clenched the couch rest, eyes squeezed shut in desperate frustration. he kept his hand over your mouth but gently turned you to face him.

“open your eyes,” he whispered.

you slowly opened your eyes, eyebrows furrowed, silently pleading for mercy. a thick tear slid down your cheek, coming to a halt on his hand. jihoon’s gaze softened, a flicker of pity in his eyes as he felt the tight clench around him.

“i know, baby, i know,” he murmured with empathy. “i know it’s rough, but you gotta hold on for me.”

you spasmed around him, your body trembling uncontrollably. jihoon’s eyebrows furrowed in response, his own expression mirroring your pain and need. he could feel your struggle, the way you were trying so hard to hold on, and it made him ache for you even more.

“i’m so close,” you whispered, barely managing to speak through the muffling of his hand. “please, jihoon.”

“just a little more,” he whispered back, his voice strained with longing. “i’m almost there too. i need you to come for me, baby. let go and let me take care of you.”

you clenched around him with renewed strength, your body shaking with the effort. jihoon let out a low, pained groan, his hips grinding into you with a desperate rhythm.

jihoon’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his movements becoming sharper, trying to offer as much relief as he could while still keeping quiet.

“fuck, i can feel how close you are,” he continued, his voice desperate. “i’m right here with you. i won’t leave you hanging.”

he adjusted his position slightly, angling his hips to hit you just right, hoping to push you over the edge despite the interruptions.

jihoon’s other hand, slick with his own saliva, moved to your clit. he sucked the tips of his middle and ring fingers, then placed them against the sensitive spot, making you flinch. he could feel your body reacting eagerly to his touch.

you loved it when he fingered you, no matter how he did it, and he knew it well. your eyes squeezed shut, and you arched your back, head falling against his shoulder.

as the tension built, you finally let go, your body trembling violently against his. jihoon’s face contorted in pleasure, fighting the urge to moan out loud. he bit his lip hard, stifling the sounds he loved to make, watching your fucked-out expression combined with the way you were swallowing his moans, was all it took for him to lose control.

jihoon’s jaw went slack as he felt the condom growing wetter, his cum trapped inside the rubber. the knocks on the door sounded muffled and distant, like they were underwater, barely registering through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

you felt his sweaty body pressed firmly against you, anchoring you in the moment. his hands, still warm and slightly trembling, roamed over your tits, giving them a gentle, affectionate squeeze. a satisfied smile spread across your face.

you whispered against his skin, “aren’t you going to answer the door?”

jihoon sighed, his breath still heavy. “it’s stopped now. probably just someone being nosy.”

just as he finished speaking, his phone buzzed loudly. he glanced at the screen and saw it was his mom calling. jihoon cursed softly under his breath and grabbed his phone.

“hey, mom. what’s up?”

“jihoon! i’ve been trying to reach you. i need to know if you’re okay. there were some noises, and i—”

“yeah, everything’s fine. just a little noise from the neighbors, you know how it is.”

“oh, okay. i was worried. you didn’t answer earlier, and i thought something might have happened.”

“nah, it’s all good. just dealing with a bit of stuff here. i’ll call you back later, okay?”

“alright, but make sure to take care of yourself. call me if you need anything.”

“will do. talk soon.”

as you lay on the couch, you mimicked jihoon’s voice in a high-pitched, exaggerated tone. “oh, it’s just a little noise from the neighbors, mom!”

jihoon rolled his eyes, a playful grin extending across his face. he stuck his tongue out at you, waggling it just enough to make you laugh.

you raised an eyebrow, catching his teasing gesture. “oh, is that the same tongue you used on me earlier?”

jihoon’s grin enlarged. “pftt, come on. you’re not telling me you didn’t like it when i used it on you?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “keep that tongue to yourself.”

jihoon leaned in. “what, you don’t want me to give your pussy the same attention?”

you playfully smacked his arm “jihoon!”

quick fic based on friends > roomates > lovers anon request. ❤️

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just-aake · 11 days

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A Feline Connection

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha makes a new furry little friend and becomes captivated by its owner along the way.

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 4270

Natasha shoots upright in her bed, her heart racing and cold sweat clinging to her skin. Her hand instinctively reaches for the knife tucked nearby, gripping it tight as she scans the room, her pulse thundering in her ears.

She’s met with silence. The darkened space of her room at the Compound was empty of any threat. No footsteps, no shadows lurking—just her.

Exhaling shakily, Natasha lowers the blade, pressing her free hand against her eyes, as though she could push away the remnants of the nightmare from her mind.

The memories linger, though. They always do.

A quick glance at the clock tells her it’s 4:00 A.M. Too early for anyone else to be awake.

But for Natasha, this was normal.

Sighing, she swings her legs out of bed, trying not to dwell on how long it had taken to fall asleep in the first place.

Three hours of sleep was better than nothing.

She dresses quickly, pulling on her jogging clothes in automatic, well-practiced movements, intent on escaping the restlessness that always comes with her dreams.

The sky was still dark when she went outside, the first hints of light barely on the horizon, but Natasha set off anyway, her pace swift and determined.

With every stride, the tension in her body begins to ease, her breathing falling into a steady rhythm that mirrored the pounding of her feet against the pavement.

This was her moment of relief—where she could forget, even if just for a while—pushing her body harder, faster, hoping to leave behind the lingering shadows of her past.

After a few miles, Natasha slows to a stop beside a tree, her breath coming in even pants as she stretches out her arms.

The world was still quiet, save for the distant rustling of leaves.

Then, faintly, she hears something.

A soft, distressed sound.

She freezes, tilting her head to listen.

There it is again—a tiny cry coming from somewhere nearby.

From above?

Her gaze lifts upward, and there, high up in the tree, a little black cat clings precariously to a branch, its claws struggling to maintain a grip on the rough bark.

Natasha blinks in surprise, but before she can react to the sight, the cat lets out a desperate yowl and slips.

Moving on instinct, Natasha surges forward and catches the cat just before it hits the ground. She cradles the small creature against her chest securely.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs, her fingers gently checking for any injuries. Its fur is soft and clean—not a stray, then.

Her suspicion is confirmed when she notices the sleek collar around its neck, the gold tag gleaming faintly in the early light.

Natasha tilts the tag to read the name engraved on it.

“Widow?”

An amused smirk tugs at her lips at the irony.

At the sound of its name, the cat looks up at her with wide, inquisitive yellow eyes and lets out a tiny, plaintive meow.

Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle softly, sinking down to sit against the tree with the cat still nestled in her arms.

“What were you doing up there?” she asks, her voice a soft murmur as she scratches behind its ears.

The cat responds with a long, dramatic meow as if offering some elaborate excuse for its predicament.

Natasha smiles softly in amusement before glancing at the tag again, searching for any contact information but finding none.

“Well, you obviously belong to someone,” Natasha muses, lifting the cat to meet its gaze. “They must really trust you to make it back on your own, huh?”

In response, the cat swats playfully at Natasha’s face, its soft paws barely grazing her skin.

Natasha shakes her head with a smile and tries to set the cat down to let it go on its way, but to her surprise, the cat clings to her, its claws digging into the front of her shirt.

“Hey, easy now,” Natasha grumbles, gently trying to pry the cat off, but it stubbornly clings to her, refusing to let go.

“Really? This is the thanks I get for saving you?” she deadpans, raising an eyebrow at the tiny creature.

The cat chirps, blinking up at her innocently before nuzzling against her chin.

“Alright, I surrender,” Natasha sighs, settling back against the tree in resignation, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the cat’s fur.

The warmth of the tiny creature in Natasha’s arms is unexpectedly comforting. Before she realizes it, her eyelids grow heavy, and exhaustion finally pulls her under.

It’s not until a soft movement against her arms stirs her that Natasha blinks awake, momentarily disoriented. As her vision clears, the first thing she sees is your face, watching her from a nearby bench, chin resting casually on your hand.

“You have my cat,” you say, your tone flat but not unkind.

Natasha blinks again, still shaking off the grogginess from the unexpected nap. She glances down to find Widow still nestled in her arms, staring up at her with wide, expectant eyes.

As she processes your words, Natasha loosens her hold and sits up straighter.

Widow hops onto her lap, stretching languidly and letting out a tiny yawn, completely at ease.

“Your cat was stuck in a tree,” Natasha explains, her voice still rough with sleep. “I caught her when she fell.”

You raise an eyebrow, your gaze flicking to the lazily stretching cat.

“You do know they land on their feet, right?”

Natasha opens her mouth to argue but pauses, catching the subtle teasing in your tone. She leans back with a small smirk, deciding to tease you back.

“Widow is kind of a strange name for a cat.”

At her remark, you scoff and cross your arms, leaning back on the bench with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Wow, so you’re a thief and you’re judgy. Maybe next time I won’t be so nice and let you finish your nap.”

“I didn’t steal your cat,” Natasha retorts, unable to suppress the slight curve of her lips, trying and failing to hide her amusement. “She wouldn’t let go of me. Also, you watched me sleep. Isn’t that a little weird?”

You shrug with casual ease and respond with a softened tone.

“You looked like you needed it.”

Your bluntness catches Natasha off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She blinks, surprised not only by your remark but by the realization that she hadn’t woken up immediately when you arrived.

The fact that she was able to rest so peacefully with a practical stranger nearby is something she never would’ve thought possible—but here she is.

As the sun rises higher for the start of the day, its gentle light softens the tension between you. It casts a warm glow over everything, including you, and Natasha finds herself at a loss for words at the sight.

After a moment, you stand, calling Widow to your side.

The cat stretches one last time before hopping down from Natasha’s lap and trotting over to you with a playful spring in its step.

As you turn to leave, you glance back at Natasha, a faint smile playing on your lips.

“Maybe find a better spot for naps next time,” you say, giving her a backward wave. “Take care, Miss Black Widow.”

Natasha watches you walk away, something unfamiliar stirring in her chest. She exhales, running a hand through her hair as she tries to shake off the lingering sensation.

“Yeah,” she murmurs softly. “You too.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A few days later, Natasha returns to her room after another one of her early morning runs, her body drenched in exhaustion from both physical exertion and the sleepless nights filled with nightmares.

She lets out a tired sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head as if to shake off the haunting memories of the recent dream when a soft scratching sound from her window catches her attention.

Her eyes widen in surprise as she spots the source of the noise. Hurrying over, she opens the window and carefully scoops the black cat perched on the sill into her arms.

“How did you get all the way up here?” Natasha asks curiously.

Widow meows softly in response, twisting in her arms to bat playfully at a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Natasha huffs in amusement, leaning her head back to keep the hair out of reach.

Her gaze drops to the collar around Widow’s neck, reminding her of the lack of contact information to reach you.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she recalls the memory of you accusing her of being a thief. Now, somehow, your cat has found its way to her again, staring up at her with those innocent, wide eyes.

Natasha taps the top of Widow’s nose lightly in mock scolding.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble with your owner again,” she mutters, half-playful, half-exasperated.

Unbothered by Natasha's words, Widow glances around the room with mild curiosity before letting out a pitiful meow, pawing at Natasha with an urgent expression.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, confused. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

Her meows grow more insistent, her tiny voice taking on a more desperate tone.

“What do you want? Food?” she asks.

The cat immediately quiets at her suggestion, eyes shining with eager anticipation. Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head.

“All right, let’s see if we can find you something to eat.”

An hour later, Natasha finds herself in the Compound’s kitchen, waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing as she reflects on the bizarre morning.

Just as the aroma of fresh coffee begins to fill the room, the elevator doors slide open, and Tony Stark comes strolling in, waving his phone at her.

“Someone explain why the emergency communication system I created is sending messages for cat food.”

Before Natasha can respond, Peter Parker swings in through an open window, landing at the kitchen counter with a large bag of cat food under his arm. He pulls off his Spider-Man mask, flashing a wide grin.

“No worries, Mr. Stark! I saw the message and picked some up on my way,” Peter declares proudly, placing the bag triumphantly on the counter.

“Thanks, Peter,” Natasha says, taking the bag and raising an eyebrow at Tony. “At least someone’s reliable around here.”

“Anytime, Miss Romanoff,” Peter replies, rubbing the back of his neck shyly as he moves toward the sitting area.

Meanwhile, Tony scoffs at her teasing jab, muttering her words mockingly under his breath as he turns to leave. But he freezes mid-stride, pointing toward the couch.

“Uh, what is that?”

Natasha follows his gaze and sees he’s referring to where Wanda is sitting on the sofa, using her powers to create a small red ball of energy for Widow, who is happily pouncing at it.

“Her name is Widow,” Natasha explains as she pours the cat food into a bowl.

“You named a cat after yourself?” Tony snorts, shaking his head. “And people say I’m the narcissist.”

“She’s not mine,” Natasha replies, rolling her eyes as she walks past him toward the sitting area.

“So, you stole it,” Tony deadpans.

“Why is that the first thing that comes to your mind?” Natasha huffs, exasperated, as she sets the bowl on the floor.

At the sight, Widow scampers over, letting out a happy meow before digging into the food.

Natasha smiles softly, scratching the cat’s head as it eats, though her thoughts inevitably drift to you, wondering how she will return your cat to you.

Wanda, who’s been watching the scene with an amused grin, chimes in, “Natasha has a crush on the owner. She keeps thinking about her.”

“Oh, this just got interesting,” Tony says, leaning on the back of a chair with an intrigued smirk. “When did that happen?”

Natasha glares at Wanda before answering, “I met her on one of my runs. We talked. That’s it. Also, what have we said about reading people’s minds?”

Wanda raises her hands in mock surrender.

“I’m not, I swear. Your thoughts are just…really loud, and most are about her.”

Tony chuckles at the revelation, thoroughly entertained. He raises an eyebrow at Natasha, grinning.

“Nat, there are better ways to get someone’s attention than stealing their pet. I could give you some tips if you want.”

Natasha huffs, crossing her arms.

“I don’t need your help, Stark.”

Tony, unbothered by her dismissal, smirks.

“Then why haven’t you contacted her about the cat?”

“I don’t have her contact info,” Natasha admits reluctantly. “I didn’t get her number.”

Peter, who had been quietly watching the exchange, suddenly perks up.

“I have an idea!”

He pulls out his phone from his backpack, snaps a picture of Widow, and begins typing. A moment later, he shows the screen to Natasha.

The post reads: “Cat found at Avengers Compound,” with Widow’s picture attached.

“What’s this?” Tony asks, peering over Peter’s shoulder.

“It’s the ‘Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man’ app,” Peter explains animatedly. “You told me to focus on local stuff as Spider-Man, so I made this app where people can report crimes or activities happening in New York. This way, Miss Romanoff’s crush will see the post and know where to find her cat.”

At his last casual remark, Tony bursts into laughter while Wanda hides her smile behind her hand.

“All right, that’s enough,” Natasha says, scooping up Widow and grabbing the food bowl. “Come on, Widow. Let’s get you some peace and quiet.”

With that, she leaves the room, escaping the playful teasing of the others.

Later that afternoon, Natasha returns to the common room and finds Peter frantically overturning the sofas.

“What are you looking for?” she asks, arms crossed.

Startled, Peter jumps, dropping the sofa back to the ground with a loud thud.

“Please don’t tell Mr. Stark,” he pleads.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “What did you lose?”

Peter hesitates, then slumps his shoulders in defeat.

“Mr. Stark gave me a USB with the new suit design, and I was going to show him my modifications, but now I can't find it anywhere.”

He starts pacing, clearly panicking, as he continues.

“I thought I put it in my backpack, but it’s gone. If I lost it in the city, Mr. Stark will never let me help with modifications again!”

Natasha steps forward, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, calm down. Tony will understand,” she says, nodding toward the window. “Why don’t you go check your place again? I’ll keep an eye out here.”

Peter takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks, Miss Romanoff,” he says before pulling his mask back on and swinging out the window.

Natasha shakes her head with a small smile and resumes her original task—finding Widow, who had somehow slipped out of her room without Natasha noticing.

The little cat was proving to be surprisingly clever and stealthy. It seems you obviously trained her well.

After searching around for a bit, Natasha is about to check with Wanda when a pair of yellow eyes appear from the shadows on one of the black sofas.

Widow stares up at her, completely unbothered.

Chuckling in realization, Natasha sits beside the cat, gently scratching her head.

“You’re pretty good at hiding. I didn’t even realize you were there.”

Widow responds with a bored yawn, stretches her body, and then hops onto Natasha’s lap, curling up contentedly. As her eyes begin to flutter closed, Natasha frowns in realization.

“No, no, you can’t fall asleep on me. I’ve got things to do.”

Widow ignores her, already deep in sleep. When Natasha hears the soft sound of the cat’s snoring, she throws her head back against the sofa in disbelief.

Sighing, Natasha spots a tablet on the nearby table. She carefully reaches for it without disturbing Widow and begins doing some work.

After a moment, the rhythmic purring from the cat brings an unexpected feeling of calm and comfort to her, and before she knows it, Natasha’s eyes start to grow heavy, and she drifts off without realizing it.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been asleep when she wakes up, blinking groggily. As her eyes adjust, she notices a familiar face beside her—you.

For a brief moment, Natasha wonders if she’s still dreaming. Though, she doesn’t usually have dreams this pleasant.

But then your eyes lift from your phone at her movement, and you raise an eyebrow, amused.

“For a hero, you sure take more naps than I expected.”

Natasha blinks away the remnants of sleep, sitting up straighter, and tilts her head at you curiously.

“How did you get in here?”

You gesture casually toward the elevator.

“I came by after seeing the post, and your teammate—Wanda, I believe—she said she recognized me, so she directed me here.”

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, you lean your head on your hand as your eyes twinkle with amusement.

“I thought I told you to find a better napping spot. This one’s just going to give you neck cramps.”

Natasha’s lips curl into a small smile as she gestures to Widow, still sound asleep on her lap.

“Wasn’t exactly my choice.”

Your gaze drifts down to the cat, and you sigh knowingly.

“Widow, stop pretending and get off her.”

Natasha frowns in confusion at your words and snaps her gaze to the seemingly asleep creature on her lap.

For a second, the cat doesn’t move, but when you call her name again, a little more sternly, the cat’s eyes snap open.

Widow lets out an indignant meow before hopping off Natasha’s lap and licking her paws casually as if nothing happened.

Natasha shakes her head in disbelief.

“What a little liar.”

Groaning softly, she stretches out her stiff muscles and catches you watching her, your gaze lingering for a second too long.

When you realize she’s noticed, your eyes flicker back to your phone.

Natasha smirks, about to tease you, but then you show her the screen of your phone—the post Peter made about Widow.

“I need you to take this down,” you say, your tone serious.

Natasha furrows her brow but nods.

“Sure, I can do that. But why? It looks like she’s a hit with everyone.”

Your smile turns faint as you stand, the lightness in your expression turning somber.

“Not all attention is good attention,” you say cryptically.

Before Natasha can ask what you mean, you grab a pen from the table and reach for her hand. She watches in surprise as you scribble something on her palm. Your touch lingers for a moment, making her feel unexpectedly flustered.

“Here,” you said, finishing. “If Widow finds her way to you again, you’ll know how to reach me. Though, hopefully, you won’t need it too often.”

Natasha glances at the number on her palm, then back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Am I only allowed to use this for cat-related emergencies?”

You smirk, though there’s a hint of something more serious in your eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m someone you’d want to get involved with.”

Natasha holds your gaze, intrigued.

But the tension is broken when Widow hops back onto the sofa, drawing both of your attention. The cat tries to burrow into the cushions, as if searching for something or determined to get comfortable again.

You sigh, picking her up despite her annoyed yowl. Before leaving, you glance back at Natasha, tilting your head thoughtfully.

“Though… I guess a hello from the Black Widow every now and then wouldn’t be too bad.”

With that, you head to the elevator, disappearing behind its doors.

Natasha looks down at the number on her palm, a small smile playing on her lips. She finds herself hoping that Widow might "accidentally" find her way back to the Compound again soon—if only for another chance to see you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha didn’t have to wait long for another chance to see you, after all.

Just a few hours after your departure, late at night when the Compound was quiet, Natasha—still unable to sleep—wandered into the common room.

To her surprise, there you were, dressed in dark, stealthy clothes, frozen the moment you noticed her.

Her instincts kick in immediately, and within seconds, Natasha has her weapon drawn, pointing it directly at you.

Yet, you show no sign of panic. Instead, you raise your hands slowly and tilt your head at her with a calm, almost amused expression.

“You really shouldn’t be up this late, you know,” you say lightly, as if this was a casual conversation. “Messes with your sleep schedule.”

Natasha ignores the teasing, her gaze unwavering and her senses on high alert. She didn’t feel any malice from you, but the situation is far too strange to let her guard down.

“How did you get in undetected?” she asks, her voice low, tinged with suspicion.

With deliberate slowness, you gesture with one hand toward the open window behind you.

“That was left unlocked. Pretty reckless for the Avengers.”

Natasha’s frown deepens as she glances at the window, already making a mental note to have Peter redo security training.

“And the alarms?” Natasha asks, her weapon still trained on you.

You shrug casually.

“Let’s just say we have a lot of experience when it comes to not being seen.”

Natasha's eyes narrow at your words. "We?"

You nod toward her feet, and Natasha briefly glances down.

Widow is there, casually walking through her legs and brushing her fur against Natasha with a soft purr, completely at ease.

When her gaze snaps back to you, you gesture toward her weapon.

“Mind putting that away? I’m unarmed. You can check if you like.”

Natasha hesitates, her eyes studying you carefully, looking for any hint of deception.

But there is none.

Reluctantly, she holsters her weapon and steps closer, reaching out to pat you down.

You stand still, hands raised, letting her search you for any hidden weapons or gadgets.

“So, what are you?” Natasha asks, her tone sharp. “A spy?”

“Reformed thief, technically,” you reply with a casual shrug. “I don’t do this sort of thing much anymore.”

You sigh lightly, casting a glance at Widow, who had settled by Natasha’s feet and is now nonchalantly licking her paw.

“She, however, is still struggling to break her old habits.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, glancing at the cat.

“You’re telling me this cat’s a thief?”

You chuckle softly, catching the disbelief in her voice.

“I’m serious. Check my pocket—it’s the reason I’m here.”

Frowning, Natasha reaches into your jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against something small and metallic. She pulls out a USB drive, her eyes widening slightly in realization when she notices the small Spider-Man logo sticker on the side.

“I didn’t realize Widow had swiped it before we left earlier,” you explain, your tone sheepish. “I came back to return it before there’s any trouble.”

“Is that why you wanted the post deleted?” Natasha asks, her suspicion now tinged with curiosity. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

There is a brief pause as you meet her gaze. Your smile turns slightly rueful at the concern in her voice, and for a moment, something unspoken lingers between you.

“Let me worry about that,” you say softly, your tone more serious than before. Then you lift your hands slightly in surrender, a playful glint returning to your eyes. “So, are you going to arrest me, or am I free to go?”

At that moment, Widow trots over, settling in front of Natasha and meowing softly as if to plead on your behalf.

Natasha crosses her arms, her lips curling slightly in amusement at the sight, though the concern hasn’t left her eyes.

“You two sure know how to double-team a person.”

You chuckle, realizing Natasha’s letting you go, and call your cat’s name. Widow immediately jumps into your arms, curling up comfortably. You look back up at Natasha, your expression softening.

“I told you—you wouldn’t want to get involved with someone like me.”

Natasha’s gaze softens in response.

“Your cat seems to think otherwise.”

You smile at that, gently shifting Widow in your arms.

“She’s got good instincts. A good judge of character, too. So, you must be really special if she’s interested in you.”

For a moment, silence settles between you, broken only by Widow’s soft purring. The tension eases, but something still lingers beneath the surface—an unspoken understanding that there was more to your story, more to you, than you were letting on.

With a small smile, you take Widow’s paw and give Natasha a playful wave.

“You should head to bed soon, Miss Black Widow,” you tease softly, raising an eyebrow. “We wouldn’t want you napping in random spots again.”

As you move toward the window, Natasha steps closer, her voice lowering.

“You know, I don’t mind the visits from Widow. And the two of you don’t have to sneak in or anything. Just…come by whenever.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her offer.

“Are you sure about that?”

Natasha holds your gaze steadily. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

You study her for a moment, then smile—a genuine, appreciative smile that softens the usual teasing banter.

“I’ll think about it,” you say with a playful tone.

With a quick nod, you adjust Widow in your arms and slip through the window with practiced ease. Natasha watches you disappear into the night, her mind spinning with questions and curiosity.

One thing’s certain: this won't be the last time she’d see you and your cat. And to her surprise, she finds herself looking forward to the next time.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff

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helluvapoison · 7 months

Text

Nice To Eat You

[ii]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons

Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Suspicious might be an understatement

• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet

• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you

• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes

• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation

• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)

• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day

“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”

You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,

“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”

Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”

• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self

• “I believe I owe you an apology,”

“Am I going to get one?”

• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in

• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs

“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly

“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”

“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!

• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking

• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!

• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.

• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you

“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath

• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was

• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since

• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did

• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!

• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business

• Or so she thought

• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.

• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind

“I’m taking my lunch.”

“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”

Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.

She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”

• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?

• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before

• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels

• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”

“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her

“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”

“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise

• You swear she shivers upon hearing that

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way

• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town

• Rosie’s loss is his gain

• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different

• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears

• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that

• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used

• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust

• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)

• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him

• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur

• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so

• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side

• Where you belong

• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val

• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language

• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done

• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #vox headcanons #vox imagine #vox x reader #velvette headcanons #velvette imagine #velvette x reader #valentino headcanons #valentino x reader #valentino imagine #help i’m actually falling for val

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saetoshis · 3 months

Note

Listen. Yes Hoshina is a short king. But consider. . . If he's short he's probably feeling like he's got smth to prove. Excited to bend his partner over and deill them like they insulted him. Plus then he might hit you with the 'princess' or smth of the like. Putting youbin a verbal place of power (as the taller person) while he's still doming thr fuck out of you. "How'd you let this happen, princess? Letting someone like me see this weak side of you? Were you just careless? Overly trusting? Or perhaps you underestimated me. I suppose I'll have to punish you for that." Type beat.

Anway love our beloved Hoshi thanks as always for your tasty art!

HELPME UR SO RIGHT ... NOW IM THINKING LIKE ... WHAT IF U TEASED HIM FOR BEING A LIL SHORT N THEN .. YK ...

taller!fem reader [5'7"+ 172cm+], oral m. receiving, size kink [sorta?], teasing, pet name [ princess], fingering, squirting, MDNI.

you, who got all-too-cocky because your eyes are just a bit higher in line with his, made a mistake.

vice captain hoshina is nothing if not an enigma. his silly demeanor and playful attitude about everything makes him seem so non-threatening, that you might've gotten too comfortable with teasing him and acting high and mighty. whenever he tells you what to do, maybe you'll make a little gesture with your hand above his head, reminding him who has more "power." these jokes were your mistake.

maybe he'll want to punish you - watch you kneel in front of him, his hand on your pretty head as he guides you towards the bulge in his pants. maybe he'll hum out a little, "since you wanna poke fun at height, how 'bout you try being the short one for once?"

maybe hoshina will lean back and watch you unzip his pants, taking no time to push your mouth onto his eager cock. he might even rut his hips a little, muttering out between breathy 'fuck's, "not so big now, huh? how does it feel, hm? didn't think i'd be big down there, did you?"

hoshina watches so closely as you bob your head and pump your hand, thighs keening together where you're sat all prettily on the floor. a little smirk might even tug at his lips as he realizes just how turned on you're getting from this. "what, getting all hot and bothered by this? didn't think someone shorter than you could get you all worked up? you know better, don't you?"

his words send a jolt straight through your frame and you can't help but shudder, and all of a sudden the vice captain seems so much more intimidating, even more enticing than you ever thought. it's like he can sense you losing yourself in the moment, and he's got you right where he wants you.

hoshina leans down, flashing you a smug sneer as he lifts your face to look up at him - all the while admiring the pretty sheen of your lips and your glassy eyes. "is that what i think it is? is the princess who's always mocking my height suddenly unable to resist me? the irony... how should i deal with you, hm?"

he maneuvers you to bend over against the counter, chest pressed against the cool granite as he lets his thumb drag along your clothed pussy. one hand presses your back, the other languidly slipping off your shorts and panties as he hums, "oh, what's that? a wet spot, hm? not so cocky now, aren't you?"

it takes a lot of strength to even muster thoughts, your head spinning from how lewd he's acting - it's bafflingly hot. you pant against the counter as you look back, watching his eyes flit over your hips while his finger does the same against your clit. hoshina lets out a little laugh when he watches you shudder along with a strained whine.

"feels good, doesn't it? does being put in your place turn you on? yeah?" hoshina sneers and lets out a little chuckle, swiftly slipping his fingers between your walls and curling forwards. he can't help but wear a smirk on his face as he enjoys your willing submission. "let me remind you that i'm the vice captain of the third division. the strongest second to mina. forgot that, did you?"

his sheer strength shows in each intense flick and curl of his fingers against the spot that makes your spine shudder, and it's humbling. it's when he starts simultaneously toying with your clit that you feel like you're on fire, a buzz building up between your thighs just begging for release.

"that's it... yeah, let it out. show me just how much you like it. cum all over my hand, bet you'll never act cocky again," hoshina leers under his breath, ministrations going into overdrive as you shiver and whimper shamelessly. with a voice-cracking whine, his name falls from your lips over and over as flicks of liquid smother his hand from his unrelenting movements.

"ahh, of course you squirt on top of everything..." hoshina leans over the counter to admire the dizzied expression on your face with a little grin of his own. his fingers nudge your chin as he murmurs, "felt good? yeah? you gonna be good now? don't wanna hear you trying to humble me ever again after you left such a mess all over me."

he presses a little kiss on your cheek, smirking against your skin before he shifts to your ear. with a low whisper, he mutters, "unless you wanna have me fuck you in that suit... 92% isn't a joke, you know?"

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

#HSKAKKLKAKLLALALALA SO HOT #BROOAOKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA #THANK U FOR THIS BABE OMFG #[‹ moshi : moshi? ›]#kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 smut #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #[‹ moshi : thirsts ›]

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erosiism · 3 months

Text

GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM

character(s): diluc, zhongli [part one] childe, ayato [part two, out]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

DILUC

There’s a lot of things you haven’t told him yet. Things you wished you had told him—but everything’s fine, because in this single action you are willing to do for him—your feelings will come inevitably with it and it’s a torrent of emotions that you’re about to burden him with.

He’s been your childhood friend for seventeen years now. All those times you have seen him, smiling, his merry laughter carrying over the breeze, his lips purple from sampling grapes, to the time where that very laughter and smiles disappear to smoothen into a stone face. After the death of his father, Diluc has become reserved, cold, and rather distant. Bitter.

You two were close, once.

You two had a bond that many could not quite interpret— it was as clear as day that you both trusted each other fully, but each always had secrets to hide. Some say proximity is the reason why both of you got close — your manors were near to each other, but truthfully, it was as simple as it was: you two had the same social standing. Both you and Diluc were, for each of their families, supposed to be close for the sake of future alliances and unions, but the friendship soon turned genuine, only for it to crumble under the weight of guilt and grief.

Only for it to crumble on the day Crepus died.

You still remember it vividly; in all its sickening, gruesome, heart wrenching detail. You were fortunate enough not to witness it, but etched in your memory, all you can think of is Diluc’s ravaged expression when he trembled before his father’s corpse.

You were helpless then. You could have extended an arm, you could have done something.

You didn’t.

But now would be different. You know the archons have it in for him when the incident happens the same way it happened with his father: via a carriage incident.

You laugh then at its bitter irony.

Bandits come, a whole load of them, and this time Diluc fights while you are there helpless once again, trembling when you hear the clash of swords and arrows. When you hear his claymore smash against flesh. You don’t have a vision. Diluc has. You don’t have any particular skill in handling a sword; Jean has tried to teach you once, but it has failed. Your brain may be quick and witty, but your steps aren’t.

The bandits have delusions. The archons really are cruel.

You see it before he does. There’s a burst of electric power that he's battling, the elementals clashing with each other—you’re still lagging behind, barely missing the whizzing arrows that skim your flesh, your heart wrenching as you see Diluc’s pained expression. You know what he’s thinking of, and it isn’t you. His memories are reverting back to his father’s death. His birthday. And perhaps that’s why his usual sharpness is wearied down.

You see the sword about to plunge his back before he does.

You scream to tell him.

Your body moves before anything.

Your fingers fumble to clasp the fabric of your clothes, before you tug him out of the way. You feel the weight of a sword against your back; you feel the way it slices through your skin before it presses against your flesh. You taste blood on your tongue, before a myriad of colors burst out; crimson, carmine. All the shades of red. You wobble then, choking out blood, before you stumble. You hear a few slices; razor, swift sharp ones. Then the last of the assailants falls down, and you are made aware that your decision has been the right one.

Diluc has survived.

You stumble. You feel your body hit the ground. Murkiness runs your vision.

“[Name],” you hear a soft, whispering voice carry to your ears. You try your best to cling onto the words. But pain is burning within you—it’s ironic, how they feel more scorching than Diluc’s flames have ever felt. You try your best to swallow down your pants and your pained noises, but it ends up slipping from your mouth in broken, mottled syllables.

Your blurry vision makes out a face.

He cannot be Diluc. He’s crying. And the last time you have seen Duluc cry is when—

Oh.

“Don’t cry,” you say weakly. “Don’t cry, Diluc. I’m sorry I wasn’t of much help.” You try to reach out to his cheek. You regret it a split second afterwards because blood stains his cheeks wet from tears. You end up smearing red all over his face.

“Why?” Diluc says, and it sounds guttural, like the words have been punched out from him. “Why, [Name]?” You hear a flurry of footsteps behind. You assume it’s some surviving witness who has gone to call for backup. But you doubt you’ll survive.

You don’t even know why. To begin with, you aren’t even sure if you are in love with him. The swirling butterflies that flutter about when you see him tells him you are, but society’s expectations push those down. You have been in love with him for as long as you can remember; you have loved him. You have annotated every inch of him down to your memory, every contour, every bit. In your dreams he visits you, smiling sweetly. And you try to remember him when you wake up, trying to pretend that he’s still there, that he’s no longer bitter.

“I don’t know.” Your words come out broken, punctuated by the gurgling of blood from your windpipe.

It’s a half truth. You love him. You don’t know if you do.

“I’m sorry.”

Diluc is sobbing now. It’s uncharacteristic of him. You are brought back to the night when you saw him break down in front of his father’s corpse. And you aren’t yet a corpse: your heart is still beating faintly, your lips are still moving, your body is still trembling. “There’s a lot of things I wanted to tell you, Diluc.”

“Don’t die,” he pleads fervently. His lips graze your forehead, then—and before you know it, he’s embracing you, his tears wetting your shoulder. His begging is childish. Does he not know that the Archons have long abandoned their people? Does he know the sky is empty, and that no amount of pleads can bring a person back to life? You doubt so. “Don’t die, [Name]. I love you.”

He loves you. You smile. He loves you. Words have never felt so sweet befor, and it curbs the bitterness of death upon your tongue. “I love you, [Name]. I love you, so don’t die.”

He loves his father too. But still his father had perished. Similar to you.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” you smile weakly. Your finger starts to fall. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You don’t have enough time to say those three words back, but it’s fine.

Your actions already did.

ZHONGLI

note(s); reader is an adepti, takes place during archon war

A God has seen their fair share of grieving. So have Adepti. Some come with age—it’s normal for mortal alliances to die before those who are immortal, after all. There is also the Archon War, which has already torn away Zhongli’s beloved companion, Guizhong. And everyday he chokes down the bile in his throat and continues to annihilate and fight. He’s always been built for this, after all, he’s an Archon. He’s a ruthless one at that, known for his brutality and his power. And everyday he looks at you and can only pray again and again to Celestia, that you remain alive.

Guizhong and you have both been his favorites since you two have met. It was Guizhong and you first, before Zhongli met you. Both you and Guizhong were best friends; almost; like sisters and brothers. Guizhong was gentle and sweet, reprimanding at times. You were sweet too, but could be more uncouth. Strong language littered your sentences at times, and Zhongli would see it then; the way Guizhong tugged at you to scold you, or the way you would smile at her. Brother and sister.

Naturally, when Zhongli grew close to Guizhong, he grew close to you. It was funny to see that you hardly knew much about history, though Guizhong clearly loved it. And so it was almost a cycle. Whatever Guizhong taught Zhongli, he taught you. Guizhong had remarked a few times, what an incredible person he was to make even you listen to facts you had earlier called boring.

(“You mellowed a lot, Morax,” Guizhong had told him once. “[Name] mellowed you. You really do care alot for him, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”)

Gods aren’t meant to be mellowed. They are meant to be powerful. Strong enough emotionally so as to not bat an eye when it comes to deaths.

But everything falls apart when Guizhong dies.

He sees you fall to the ground, sobbing and sobbing and crying at the loss of your beloved sister. He sees the way you touch her statue, turned to stone, cradling her face and wishing you were touching soft skin, instead of cold stone. Not sister by blood, but sister in name. He sees the way you break apart after that; Zhongli feels a human sense of emptiness and pain that comes with her death.

It’s all right, he told himself repeatedly. In his grief he has started to flood himself with reassurances. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name].

He sees the way you lose yourself in battle after that. Your attacks become sloppy, you become more careless. You become more injured. Zhongli never bothered with your skill. You were talented and strong enough. But now he finds himself protecting you the times you stumble, the times you start to choke out sobs during battle, the times you go wild and bloodthirsty against those you assume have contributed to her death.

Guizhong has said once that he loved you. Zhongli never bothered to think about that. He assumed he would know it himself, when time came. He didn’t need to worry about being in what mortals called a relationship—he would get this war finished with you, become a mortal, and love you freely. It didn’t matter if you didn’t love him. Zhongli could love you at a safe distance. It would all be all right.

He never imagined your declaration of love towards him would come so easily and devastatingly.

Zhongli sees you struck by a burst of elemental power before anything. He sees the way you shoved him inside; he sees the irony. He was so preoccupied with watching you. He hadn’t seen the enemy crawl up to him or nearly kill him. Like how he was watching you, you were watching him. And now his care has killed you.

“[Name].”

There’s an avalanche of emotions. First, he’s furious. He will leach out the killer and will inflict a thousand times more pain on them. Second, he’s heartbroken. He’s terrified of losing you. He can feel your life ebbing away with each passing moment, and he has seen enough wounds to know no healer can save you. He feels your pulse thrumming beneath your skin and he knows you’re dying.

You smile. It looks more like a grimace. “Just survive this goddamn war.”

Zhongli isn’t sure if he will. He feels like he might kill himself, that he might lay his body down next to yours, so that after death your souls would be intermingled, of sorts. It sounds romantic, but there’s absolutely nothing romantic about your death. He does what the Gods are not supposed to do. He feeds into his humanity; he cries.

“Afterwards, just live as a human. I don’t know. Be a dusty collector of antiques. Be a funeral planner or something strange like that. Just live, okay? You look like you want to die.”

You continue to ramble on. Your sentences become connected with each other. Your eyes start to flutter. Your words become faint and faltering.

“I can’t live with you,” he whispers. “First Guizhong, then you…” it’s all his fault. He should have seen it. He should have been more aware. He should—he should…

It’s too late. You’re dead, and he mourns just like a human; sobbing, aching, and dying a little inside.

For a brief moment Zhongli isn’t a God.

hope everyone liked it! it’s my first post so im apprehensive haha be sure to like/reblog & leave a comment if u can

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #male reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #male #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x male #genshin impact scenarios #first post #idk how to tag #Zhongli #Diluc #eroswrites

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unluckilyimnot · 6 months

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JEALOUS SAE HEADCANONS PLEASEEEEE

Jealous hc

Characters: sae, rin, kaiser, hiori, karasu, shidou

m.list | rules

Note: hiiii how are youuu thank you for your request hihi I had other characters bc I felt like doing it for them too

Sae Itoshi

he’s too prideful to be jealous, or he thinks so

in fact he get pissed off easily, anyone being a little to friendly with you bother him and he already doesn’t like anyone so imagine

he’s not subtile, even if he thinks he is

he’ll get closer, talk like shit to the person who’s flirting with you in his eyes

roll his eyes, click his tongue, you name it

Suddenly he wants to go home or leave for another place

You never honestly never thought you'll see him like that since he's confident and trusts you

I think he just doesn't like people and so by extension he hates people talking to you

He likes to think he's the only one who can make you smile like that, beside your friends (he's not insane)

So seeing some nobody making you smile, or even worst : laugh makes him jealous

He’s not into pda to save his life i think, that’s something he keeps behind closed doors

But oh man how he likes to kiss you when it happens, just to remind everyone that you're taken and you're proud of it

Be prepared to hear about this, he’s a nagging mom at heart

“Are you done ?” you’d ask and magically, yes he is

he will sulk yes, but close to you at least

Rin Itoshi

Bare with him, he acts tough but deep down he wants to cry

Just like his brother, he will get closer, his arm will probably stay around your shoulders after that

But he won’t be mean to them, just kinda ignore them or send death glare if they get too close

No touching, even in a friendly way, don’t be ridiculous

I think he appreciates it if you put a stop yourself

He’s more insecure than he likes to admit and it prove him that he can trust you

He’s gonna be clingy af though

When you two are finally alone, Rin won’t say a world but glue himself to you

He’ll need reassurance for sure :( this boy has abandon issues

Michael Kaiser

He’s an asshole (lovingly)

He let people flirt with you if it helps their ego and mock them for how long you can think, it’s almost an inside joke for him

The irony is that he’s really possessive, so it’s all fun and game until it’s not some loser that try to hit on you

Not that he feels threaten, please

But he still don’t wanna play with them and he doesn’t want you nearby

If you just happen to be friendly with someone then he’s bothered

What do you mean by being this happy to see someone else ?

He’ll ask a million questions and whine about it before brush it off as if he doesn’t care

It takes a lot to deal with him, his reaction depend on his phase

If he feels low then he’ll be a nightmare, you had to be sorry for someone hitting on you and tell him he’s your one and only

If he’s his confident self, it’s almost like he doesn’t care and let it happen

Being with him is a roller coaster

Tabito Karasu

Best man if is speak

He’s mature and he knows he’s projecting his own insecurity when he’s jealous, so he doesn’t make a big deal about it

He’s not gonna ruin the moment so he just keep his cool and act normally

Deep down you can feel there’s some awkwardness so you try to ask him silently, with your eyes or smile, if he’s ok

He loves you so much he feels dumb to even be jealous the second you do that honestly

Expect small pda like holding hands above your knees, playing with your fingers or the em of your shirt/ skirt

He’ll talk to you about it on your way back home or when you two are comfortable at yours or his place

He knows it’s normal to feel like this sometimes but it’s normal to reach for comfort right ? he’s not shy to ask

Nothings best than you playing with his hair, laying on your chest or thighs

Ryusei Shidou

He’s unhinged he scares me

I think he’s the most jealous among them

You’re his, that’s it so, he may seem lay back (and weird) but he’s cautious with every person coming near you

I hc him with abandon issues as well (give us his back story please and make it worth it compare to some character) so he’s always scared of you leaving

It’s still more in a possessive than an insecure way, he just can’t take it if he considered that someone is too close to you

He gets touchy oh my, he’s all over you, can’t keep his hands to himself just to let them know that you’re taken

He’ll talk to them straight in the eyes while his hand run up and down your thighs, he’s not ashamed of anything

You have to put a stop to it but always expected something more while coming home

Yo Hiori

He’s cute and I don’t think people take him seriously enough

You’re amazing and beautiful and fun to talk to, people already asked you why him

He kinda has war flashback ngl

Obviously he also think that he’s not enough and probably get jealous/sad quickly if someone get close to you and is really friendly

He’s scared to take things into hand I think, so he’ll just ask for you two to leave

He won’t tell you how he feels, he’s sure it’s not important enough to bring it up but you always ask him anyway

You’re so sorry that it happens at all honestly, you never want him to feel like this

He never ask for it but you’re clingy and want to do nothing with him, spending some quality time together, watching him play game while you stay on your phone or even sitting in his laps

It always make him feel better and remind him that you won’t leave him so soon

I hope you liked it ♡

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witheredgardenparty · 16 days

Text

In Sets of Threes

Read on AO3 (AO3 Account)

Aventurine x g/n Reader

He thinks sometimes that he might be resentful. (or, the one where you are a little too kind.)

Warnings: yandere dynamics, soft yandere, Aventurine's backstory and use of real name, all of the warnings that come with his backstory (if you know, you know), we do not linger on it but it is there, gambling, suicidal ideology, stalking, unreliable narrator, attempted mind games, Reader is hurt (not by violence), implied past abuse against Reader (ambiguous situation), Reader might be manipulative but we cannot trust the narrator... but what if?!, 'came back wrong' trope except the death is metaphorical, L*igi G*lvani

Word Count: 3.4k

Kakavasha is born a single grain of sand. A sliver of chromium quartzite among infinite others. Small, but no less important in the grander design of the desert. A piece of a whole.

He is born into love.

A shattering tears hearth from home. A grain becomes a grit becomes an irritation. He struggles and struggles and struggles until time and effort wear him down into something shining. Into something with edges. Anything deemed unnecessary, dispensable, is whittled away. He is left a remnant of carved facets and mirrored surfaces. What remains is worth showing off. Worth selling.

Whoever he once was dies with a number and a brand. A single bet leaves a corpse’s mouth, and something else takes his place. Wrath drapes his skin like a coat. Spite props the skeleton upright. Grief keeps the blood pumping.

Aventurine wins the bet, of course. He always does. Blood stained rags make way for bespoke suits. Calloused hands are protected in ink dyed lamb leather. He adorns himself in gold bands and bright colors.

(With great irony, he covers himself in peacock feathers. He means it as a warning, as an omen, but the intent is lost on his marks entirely. They mistake it for opulence or charm. Anyone who would have remembered the significance is no longer watching.)

Observers call it ‘indulgence’, but he knows better. Only the nature of his chains have changed.

In games of chance, there is no tolerance for error. He learns to hide the tremor. He is trained to suppress the flinch. The ever growing familiarity of sneering faces is met with a radiant smile.

He hates that it becomes second nature to him.

He hates the rot he lets fester inside himself.

He hates the way you look at him even more.

...please continue on AO3. (Requires an Account)

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drchucktingle · 2 years

Text

favorite author i have never read

hey there buckaroos thank you for all the DEEP DISCUSSIONS we are having a great time here on tumblr. thought today i could make a post that is slightly more difficult its not all sunshine days ahead and requires a little introspection. LOOK AT US we have all arrived here together through trust and love and i think we can keep this going. chuck made this post on other platforms years ago and i think it was said very well then and led to some good discussion, so i am going to repost here. okay lets go deep bud here we go:

i would like to spend moment today talking about common joke i hear online (and even too my face at conventions). this is jokerman way i hear ALL the dang time: 'chuck tingle is my favorite author i have never read' or less jokerman way but of ‘i have never read his books but i love chuck tingle'.

first of all, THANK YOU buds. this is not way of call out post to make you feel bad, i appreciate your way and understand you are trying to support. this is not attack on your message and from bottom of chucks heart THANK YOU.

BUT i have to say something about this. please consider what you are saying when you post this. would you send this as message to STEPHEN KING or NEIL GAIMAN or NK JEMISIN? i doubt this. it would seem VERY RUDE to message other authors. just imagine trotting up to a writer and saying ‘i would NEVER read your books haha’ but it is sent to chuck all the dang time.

obvious reason buds say it to chuck is that i am queer author with a unique way. yes i write in realm of wild fantasy and erotic pairings, but by saying ‘i have never read chuck BUT' you are really saying 'i am posting my support of this but PLEASE DONT THINK I AM REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS PERSONALLY.' there are similar distasteful jokes that i will not repeat involving saying 'no bud on bud pounds' after a sentence that works in similar way.

is sexual art really that bad? is queer art really that embarrassing? is unusual outsider art really that funny?

it is one thing if your preferred pound is not one of chucks tinglers, that is TOTALLY FINE BUD, but if you are an adult i would say 'is it REALLY that scary to read a book about a way of sex that is not yours? is it that difficult to think that something that seems silly to you could actually MOVE YOU in an important way? do you HAVE to disconnect yourself from lgtbqia art with a 'but i don't read this myself?'

keep in mind, there are gay tinglers, there are asexual tinglers, there are trans tinglers, there are select your own timeline tinglers, there are horror tinglers. TINGLERS FOR EVERY TASTE. the thing that buds are often REALLY saying with ‘favorite author i have never read’ is ‘this is WEIRD and dont be confused because im NOT WEIRD IM COOL DONT THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS’. funny enough even the proudly fun and wild and unique buckaroos will STILL say this line, maybe without taking time to think of what it means or how rude it is?

WHY would you never read a chuck book? because my way is queer? because it is neurodivergent? even if that is not there reason or even if YOUR ARE ALSO PERSONALLY QUEER AND NEURODIVERGENT TOO, think about what the joke is IMPLYING.

is sincerely enjoying something thats kind of unusual that difficult? do we really have to slather it in irony and ‘so bad its good?’ before reposting?

in closing as man name of chuck i will say you can still make this joke if you want buckaroos i know you are just having a good time proving love in your own way. i am not upset with you bud and i appreciate your support in any way you give it. there are some buckaroos who just CANT AFFORD tinglers and that is an important way i understand as well. obviously this conversation does not apply to those buds. but for the rest of us trotting along, MAYBE think about what you are really saying with this jokerman way first, and MAYBE try cracking open a tingler because you might be surprised. its not that scary bud. thank you for listening

being sincere is VERY COOL and VERY PUNK ROCK. i encourage all buckaroos out there to give it a try.

LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #tingleverse #art theory #queer #lgbtqia #outsider art #neurodivergent #autism #irony #sincerity #love is real #favorite author i have never read

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 4 months

Text

what people think pro ship means: dangerous people who want to harm children in real life and/or think taboo subjects in real life are justified

what pro ship actually is about: the belief that people are allowed to enjoy fictional thing however they want, as long as it's fictional and no one in real life gets harmed or harassed in any way, and as long as they tag their trigger warnings properly.

most pro ship folks I've come across are just "hey, you like this fucked up thing that is fictional? okay, cool. you do you, man. I myself don't even like this thing that you like, but hey, it's not real. and I trust that you know the difference between fiction and reality, so you do you. if it ever gets too much for me, I will just block or mute you and move on with my life, but that doesn't mean I think you're a horrible person in real life because of the fictional thing you like, it just means I'd rather not see or engage with this thing that can make me uncomfortable. I still want you to have fun doing what you love, and I still think you're cool as fuck. love and respect, dude"

meanwhile most anti ship I've seen are like "omg you like this fictional thing where fictional children are harmed??! Red Flag Red Flag. put this gross piece of shit behind bars immediately!!!"

and I'm just ????? I don't normally engage in fandom wars, but I think, as long as you don't harass anyone in real life and as long as no one in real life is in danger or is harmed, how you enjoy fictional things is none of my business. and I'm not gonna make any "call out post" where I encourage my followers to harass you because you like fucked up fictional things that I personally don't like or believe is wrong either.

I mean, from personal experience, I was exposed against my will to thing I didn't want to see from anti's screenshot of fanart or fanfic where they encourage their followers to harass this person whose fanart or fanfic, that was screenshot and spread by them, was originally tagged properly with all the trigger warnings so that people who didn't want to see it wouldn't get exposed to it. until anti screenshot it and flaunted it around in the name of being morally superior while also, at the same time, advocated for the witch hunt against someone who just wanted to mind their own business. so... the irony. lol

fandoms used to be more peaceful before Fandom Police starts their witch hunting, but it's a good thing we can just block these people and keep on enjoying our blorbos however we want to enjoy them.

and I'll always encourage every artist to write whatever they want, draw whatever they want. don't let people who think they're "morally superior" tell you you can't make art this way or that way. my best advice would be to block and ignore and keep on creating what you want. they may be loud, but at the end of the day they're just noises and they're not worth your attention x

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obliviouskara · 1 month

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wouldn’t it be beautiful if there was a fic where kara would lose her memory and instead of being the number 1 lena luthor defender who has devoted her existence in making sure everyone knows lena is a good person kara would become the very same people she used to defend lena over. kara's judgment on lena would be base on her last name and nothing else. because she would forget seeing lena testify against her own brother during the trial all she would know of lena is that shares the same last name with the man that repeatedly tried to kill her cousin. the whole time this is happening, lena is still very much mad at supergirl or kara about the whole lying thing so mad that she might have been one of the reason why kara lost her memory however now with kara having no memory of her she feels like its pointless to be mad at someone who doesn’t even remember lying to you, who doesn’t even know who she is. so she puts her anger on a shelf and offers to help alex out. she doesn’t understand why she feels the need to help supergirl, her lying manipulative two faced ex-bestfriend but she does anyway. of course she does because she's lena luthor and she doesn't have to explain herself to anyone. she convinces herself that its because alex is asking for help. because its the right thing to do (not that she'd really cared about what's right or wrong every since their fallout with supergirl) but still. alex of all people is asking her for help which means its bad bad. alex who feels helpless and hopeless because kara is back to her old insecure self. she doesn’t even remember being supergirl and because she doesn’t remember saving alex from the plane kara doesn’t feel the need to become supergirl. she has no memory of being a superhero and she's very much content of being cat grant's assistant and nothing more. everything is overwhelming for her. alex just wants her sister to be okay. lena just wants to back at being mad again. sam is just in here for the ride and is very amused about the whole situation. its a mess and now alex is asking for lena's help because she has wasted countless deo resources but nothing is helping. Not that Kara is being any much of help because Kara feels overwhelmed and Kara just wants things to go back to how she remembers it. She doesn't want to accept the changes alex keeps on telling her and alex knows if there is one person that could bring kara's memory back — bring her sister back that would be lena.

but the thing is, kara doesn't like the idea of being close to a luthor. she doesn't even understand why out of all people alex would trust with their situation, it had to be lena luthor. now every time alex would bring lena up, she feels like she has to defend lena nonestop from kara's relentless accusations. talk about major irony. Kara has been nothing but:

"Why are you trusting her?! She's a Luthor?! What makes her so special??"

"They're evil, right? What if this is all some plot she has to kill me?!"

This feels like a huge slap in the face for alex but she carries on, exhausted she explains:

"Yes, majority of the luthors are still bad but she isn't"

"I dont know why she's different, okay? She just is"

this was so much easier when alex was doing all the accusing but she pushes forward

"We trust her. Yes, I trust her. You trusted her too, yknow?"

"Yes, I dont always trust your judgement but she's a good person. How do I know that? I don't know!! Will you just let her prick you with a kryptonite needle so we can go on with our lives!?!"

"why does she have kryptonite? she made it— its not that bad, i promise! she’s just super smart! stop floating away and come back here!”

what a mess would that be kara doesn’t even want to touch lena with a 10 foot pole. its very to hard catch an alien when she super speeds every chance she gets whenever she feels lena is close by. its frustrating and its taking longer than it should have. everyone feels like they're wasting time and should just accept this as how it is. the entire national city is looking for supergirl. she's been missing for months now. all while lena, lena takes it all in like a champ but deep down lena luthor is still mad. scorching hot mad. how dare kara forget every pain she has caused lena and is now actively avoiding her?! how dare this superhero just ups and leaves and stop being a superhero?! how dare her give up when lena hasn't even decided on her revenge for the years of deceit. its so unfair. its not suppose to hurt. she should be happy that kara doesn't remember her at all. this was what she wanted with myriad. a clean slate but why does it make her heart ache everytime kara tells her she's a luthor with so much distain. this was what she wanted, right? this would have made it easier for her to forget having feelings for her bestfriend but why does lena find herself trying to recreate every lunch date she has with kara danvers? so much so she brings her her favorite food whenever they stay in the same room. offers her snacks she knows she cant resist. kara doesn't understand why lena is being so nice. she still doesn't trust her but it makes her curious why lena's heart always beats differently whenever she's around. why lena looks at her the way she does. as if kara has stolen a piece of her heart. and kara doesnt understand whenever she eats her favorite food, all she thinks of is lena's shy smile whenever she accepts her takeout. whenever kara lets her touch her to examine her and its just a mess can someone please just...

#supercorp #yknow a part of me thinks this could have been a one shot #already #somehow #but still #just a stupid long ass headcanon #bc i refuse to write #again #i dont trust myself to write fics anymore #but #here you go #release to the world #so someone can write it better than i can #lena luthor #alex danvers #supergirl #kara danvers

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

Note

Jon Snow x Wildling!reader; were she doesn't trust him at all and she's always going against him, bickering all the time...and it has smut maybe a more bottom!Jon who's at that point still not so experienced??? Lots of teasing on her side during the smut... :)

Jon Snow*MiLady

Pairing: Jon x F!Wilding!Reader

Platonic: reader x Ygritte, daughter!reader x Mance

Summary: Jon Snow found himself sharing a tent with a wilding girl who loved to rile him up

Warnings: swearing, smut, loss of virginity, praise kink, f receiving oral, piv sex think thats it?

Word count: 4800

Masterlist Here

Requests Open

If anyone but Ygritte had brought a crow into your camp, you would’ve been right beside your fellow free folk demanding he either be thrown out or killed. However lucky for her Ygritte she was your closest friend and the reason you were still alive. Something she reminded you of as people voted on how to handle the crow.

You found it amusing how he was so quick to bend the knee to a king he never met, especially one who wasn’t even the king. Tormund apparently looked more the king than Mance, something you knew he would brag about for weeks. The crow told Mance he wanted to be free, but you knew it was a lie and so did Mance. Your interest was peaked from the corner of the room as he began to describe Craster leaving his new-born son in the woods and what came for it.

This time when Mance asked him why he was really here Jon, you had learned his name, answer seemed to be sincere. “I want to fight for the side who fights for the living." He spoke.

Murmurs fell over the crowd as your fellow free folk debated whether he could be trusted. The better question was if he was worth the risk. You still didn’t move from your spot in the back corner, but you did look up, meeting Ygritte’s eyes. Her gaze was strong, and you could feel the threat behind it.

Mance debated Jon’s words in a few moments of silence before turning his head to face you, “And what say you (Y/N)?” Mance asked. This time the crows’ eyes fell on you.

They were soft behind the harden gaze. He had obviously seen so much already but you had seen more. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked closer to where the crow stood, his eyes not leaving you, but you now refused to meet his, instead keeping yours on Ygritte. “You brought me a crow?” you asked her.

Ygritte smirked, “I brought you Jon Snow,”

“I already have plenty of snow,” you said causing Tormund and others to snicker, “Do you talk to all the crows to decide if you should shoot them?”

Ygritte glared at you. You glanced at Jon who was now wrapped in even more confusion. Why was the king asking someone else’s opinion? Clearly, he was not a wildling. “You owe me,” Ygritte reminded you, ignoring your question.

Your eyes fell back on Jon Snow who stood up straighter under your gaze. You internally smirked at his actions. There was silence in the room as your eyes roamed the crow. Finally, you glanced at Ygritte one last time before walking back to your corner, “I say he can stay,” you said and Jon nodded at your words, attempting to speak but you cut him off, “For now,” you added.

Mance nodded at your words and turned to his lieutenant, “Get the boy a new cloak,”

The new cloak didn’t help much as no one could forget a face like Jon Snow’s. everywhere he walked in the camp the children would pelt him with snow. You laughed at the irony. Ygritte kept trying to stop them to little avail. She tried to scatter the children as they pelted him again when she spotted you laughing across the camp. Ygritte stalked over to you. “Can’t you help me get them to knock it off?”

“Why would I do that?” you snorted at her question. You rolled your eyes as Jon rushed to catch up with his protecter. “He’s kind of like a dog,” you mused to her, but she just rolled her eyes.

“If you told them to stop, they’d have to,” she said ignoring your insult.

Jon had been in camp for only a couple of hours and clearly no one had explained anything to him, “So are you like the wildling queen?” he asked.

You grimaced at the suggestion, “Do you assume everyone is a king?”

Jon glared at your words, “That was an honest mistake,”

“Are all southerners so ready to bend the knee?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’m a northerner,” Jon spat.

You laughed as you began to walk away, Jon following behind you and Ygritte behind him, “A northerner who can barely walk in snow,”

“There’s like 9 inches of snow!” he shot back.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that shot out your lips as you turned to face him, “I’ll keep that in mind next time im cold, Snow,” you smirked.

Jon’s face flushed pinker than the cold had already nipped it, “I didn’t mean it like that! And you know it,”

“Are you always so miserable?” you asked, turning back to face where you were walking. You were walking to where some of your men were preparing hot stew, something you needed to help with the admittedly high snow.

Jon just sighed behind you and ignored your question. “So, what are you then? Queen, princess, general?” he asked.

“Why does it matter?” you asked as you got in line for stew, Ygritte cutting in front of you and Jon behind you.

“I want to know who I’m talking to,”

“Are you blind?” you snipped, growing hungrier by the minute. “Or just an idiot?”

“Are you?” Jon said, causing you to stop moving and turn to face him, “Why did Mance need your permission?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, “He didn’t need my permission, just my opinion. Which by the way is usually right so don’t prove me wrong,”

“And why does your opinion matter to a king?” he asked as Ygritte walked away with her stew.

As you took the bowl from the man you turned to face Jon again. “His daughter,” you smirked, and you could see Jon’s face pale.

“So, you’re a princess?”

“Maybe to the south,” you said, “Here I’m his first man, his council. What you people call a hand,”

“My father was a hand,” he said as he reached for his own bowl of stew.

“I never asked,” you said as you stopped his hand, “Who said you could eat?” you asked, and Jon’s face fell.

His shock was quickly replaced by anger as he stomped to where Ygritte was sitting on a log. You laughed as you picked up his bowl before walking to join them. You held the bowl out to the crow who looked up at you with a cold stare. “I’m not that bad,” you shrugged, holding it out closer for him to take.

“How kind,” he said, rolling his eyes. You smacked the back of his head for that, “Hey!”

“Shut up,” you said as you reached into your pocket and pulled out the fabric you wrapped your spoons in. you passed Jon one without saying anything and he seemed shocked but less angry this time, “Eat,” you told him and finally he did.

After your food Jon stopped being your problem till the sun began to set. That’s when Ygritte approached you with her next problem, “Where’s the crow sleeping?”

“Fuck would I know?” you said. You were just about to go into your own tent when she had caught you. The day had been long, and Jon was far from your only problem. “Ask Mance,”

Jon stood a couple of feet behind Ygritte, “He said to ask you,”

“Ask Tormund,” you said as you rolled your eyes and went to walk into your tent, but she grabbed your arm to stop you.

“He said the same thing,” she smirked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How is the crow my problem now?” you asked.

Jon stomped closer to where you debated with Ygritte, “I’m right here you know,”

You held your hand up to him, motioning him to shut up as you continued talking to Ygritte, “Stick him in a spare tent,”

“No ones willing to give him one,”

You sighed knowing you wouldn’t have given him your peoples spare supplies either in their shoes. “Does he have furs?”

“Oh, aye I carried furs all the way from the wall encase I came to camp with yous,” Jon said.

You held back a laugh and kept an annoyed face on as best you could. Snarky Jon was better than formal Jon. “Can’t you keep him?”

“I share a tent with two other folk who’d skin him in his sleep,” she said, and you sighed knowing she was right, “What am I supposed to do with him?”

“Right fine fuck fine okay,” you said, running a hand through your hair, “Just fuck off and I’ll deal with it,”

“Thank you,” Ygritte yelled as she was already running away before she could change her mind.

You sighed and began to walk to go into your tent, “What about me?” Jon asked, rushing to follow.

“You have legs. Keep up,” you said as you entered your tent, holding the flap open for him to get in. “Hurry up im cold,”

“Oh, so wildings do get cold,” Jon smirked as you began to secure the tent entrance shut to block out the harsh wind.

“Do you want to sleep in the snow?” you asked as you turned to face him. He just rolled his eyes in response. You ignored him as you began to light a couple candles to light the dim tent. “You can borrow my spare furs. Don’t ruin them crow,” you warned.

“Don’t worry your precious furs are fine with me milady,” he said as he looked around the tent.

You grabbed one of your furs and threw it at him, “Don’t call me that,” you said.

“What?” he asked, “Milady? Are you not a princess milady? Do you have another title milady? What would milady like?”

“Milady would like you to shut the fuck up,” you almost yelled as you sat on your own pile of furs that acted as a bed and began to remove your cloak, flinging it into the corner of the tent.

Jon laughed as he internally celebrated his mini win before he looked around the tent awkwardly, “Where am I supposed to take these?”

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting in confusion as you took off your boots, “You’re sleeping in here. With me. Unless you’d prefer the snow?”

“I don’t think your father would- “

“I am his daughter not his possession,” you said as you finally got your second shoe off. “and if its my honour your worried about just know us free folk have another definition of honour,”

“And what’s that?” Jon asked.

You stood up from the furs and grinned, “Well part of it is you not killing me in my sleep. At least wake me up first,” Jon just grumbled something under his breath, and you rolled your eyes, “Are you gonna stand there all night? Get ready for bed dumbass,” you said.

“Fuck off,” Jon said; however, he did as he was told as he laid his furs on the ground and began to take his cloak and boots off.

You ignored the crow as you began to fix your hair for bed. You looked down to where Jon was getting under the furs with his clothes still on, “Are you that cold?” you asked.

“What?” Jon asked but a blush fell on his face as you began to remove your outer layers. “Oh,”

You grinned as you stripped down to a lose long shirt you wore under your other clothes. “I forgot you crows didn’t do the whole sex thing,” you said. Jon avoided looking at you as you sat on your furs, deliberately not going under them. The shirt covered your torso and tops of thighs but apparently your legs were too scandalous for him, “Relax, we’re not having sex. I know you crows don’t have it in you,” you laughed.

“I could!” he protested, his eyes flashing to meet yours then quickly moving away, “But I took a vow saying I wouldn’t take a wife,”

“Who said anything about marriage?” you asked.

Jon rolled his eyes as he began to shed his own outer layers. You kept your eyes on him, smirking as he flushed under your gaze, “Can I help you?” he asked as he took his tunic off.

“You already said no to that,” you grinned, and his flush only depend. “Have you ever had sex?” you asked as you decided to retreat under your furs.

Finally, Jon could look at you without going red, “I made a vow- “

“I meant before that,”

“I was just a boy then,” Jon said who was now in just an under shirt and pants. He climbed under his furs you had gave him as you watched, “Why are you staring at me?”

You laughed at him as he scowled, “Never seen a crow without his clothes on,” you said, “Not half bad,” you laughed as you took the under shirt you had on off, puling the furs up to cover yourself, “Not as good as a wilding though,”

Jon rolled his eyes, but his face was red after he noticed you were now naked in the tent, “Of course you’d say that”

“Want me to prove it?” you offered, sitting up more so the furs slipped down slightly.

Jon blushed more, “No I believe you,” he stammered.

“Do yous not sleep naked?” you asked, deciding to give him some mercy.

Jon laid down, turning to face you on his side still a couple of feet apart. “Some do I suppose. Im always scared someone will walk in,”

“No one will walk into this tent,” you assured him.

Jon snorted, “What? Would Mance kill them?” he asked.

You pulled the dagger out from under your furs, “No, I would,” you grinned, and you saw a look of fear and impress fall on his face. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to get blood on my good furs,”

Jon rolled his eyes before turning to face the other wall. You grinned as you settled down to sleep. However, sleep did not come. Despite the furs you had you felt the chill as a storm seemed to be over the camp. The frigid air beat the side of the tents and whistled in the wind. You had decided to not blow out two candles so you could make sure the crow wasn’t planning to kill you, but it now helped you ask you rolled over to see Jon shivering in his furs.

Admittedly you had gave the boy one of the more scraggily ones and he only had one while you had several. You could tell by the cold he would not be asleep and was merely making. You sighed as you sat up, keeping the furs covering your chest, “You cold?” you asked, already knowing the truth.

“Why do you care?” he asked, not opening his eyes.

You sighed as you moved some of the furs around, “Get under,” you told him and this time Jon opened his eyes, “Toss that one on top and come on,”

“What?” Jon asked as he sat up in his own makeshift bed.

“You’re shivering so much your teeth are gonna break. Get under the furs,” you told him. Jon seemed to debate it, “Your southern honour doesn’t apply here. Get under the furs,” you commanded him.

This time Jon seemed to listen. He got up and quickly fling the fur he had on top of the pile you had on you, and shimming in in between your pile of furs, “I’m not a southerner,” he protested as he joined you in the furs, letting out a sigh as the warmth surrounded his body.

He accidentally nudged into you, and you yelped at his cold skin, “Your like ice!” you squealed.

Jon grinned as he rolled over to face you, “More like snow,” he said. You rolled your eyes, telling him to fuck off under your breath and in response Jon pressed one of his icy hands to your waist.

You squirmed under his touch as he laughed at your yelping. His hands were probably colder than the ice outside but despite this you still wanted his hand on your waist. He pressed the back of the other to your cheek, “You’re playing a dangerous game snow,” you warned him, teeth chattering.

“And whys that?” he asked. Gods was that smirk attractive.

You grabbed the wrist by your face and pushed it back while grabbing the other off your waist, forcing him onto his back with his hands pinned by his head, “I’m quicker,” you smirked. You were now straddling the crow’s waist, your chest exposed and only inches from his. The way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened made your grin grow. “Crow got your tongue?” you asked.

“You might be quicker but I’m stronger,” Jon stuttered out.

However, he made no attempt to make you move which only made you laugh, “So you’re choosing to have a naked woman on top of you. How dishonourable of you Jon Snow,” you tutted.

Jon scowled up at you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said and this time you laughed loudly causing his face to go red.

Your laughter stopped when the bastard flipped you onto your back, your legs now wrapped around his waist as he held himself above you. Jon now had your own wrists pinned above your head, allowing you to look down to see his body above you. The nightswatch did something right you had to admit when you saw how toned he was from what his undershirt revealed.

Your eyes scanned over him deliberately slowly before meeting his eyes. “I could get used to this crow,” you said before wrapping your legs tighter around your waist, you pulled him closer causing you to rub against his crotch which you could feel hard against you. You saw his face flush as you chuckled, “You might have honour but he,” you said, grinding against the crow again, “does not,”

“Shut up,” Jon grumbled as he avoided your gaze, but he made no attempts to remove your legs.

You removed your legs from around his waist, causing him to finally glance down at you, “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you said and once again he looked away like a scared puppy, “but no one but us has to know what happened in this tent,” you finished.

Jon looked down at you, his eyes filled with desperation and longing, “Can I kiss you?” he finally asked.

This time your smile was gentle as you pulled your hand free of his before pulling his head closer to yours and placing your lips onto him. Despite loving to tease you could tell how nervous the boy was, so you started the kiss slow, unsure if he had ever kissed anyone before this. His lips were far gentler than any wildings and his hair was soft in your grip.

You tugged gently on his curls causing him to moan against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slip your tongue into Jon’s mouth who gladly let you. You felt his tense body relax against your touch as he rested more of his weight on you.

His arms rested beside either side of your head to keep him up. Taking on of his hands, you brought it down your body, placing his hand on your breast. You could sense his nerves and pulled back slightly, laughing gently, “You can touch me, I don’t bite,” you said, pressing another small kiss to his lips before adding, “much,”

Jon didn’t argue with your smarminess this time and instead gently squeezed where you had placed his hand before diving back into your lips, desperate for your touch. Your other hand slipped away and began to roam down his chest then down his body, feeling his abs underneath his shirt and causing him to shiver.

Then you moved your hand down lower, playing with the band of his under clothes. You felt his stomach tense again under your touch. “I have an idea,” you told him before flipping him back onto his back before he could protest. With his hips under yours, you grinded down onto his hard member causing Jon to groan and his eyes to flutter shut, “We’ve barely even started and look at you,” you cooed down at him.

Jon tried to argue but you rolled your hips against his again and another moan fell out his pretty lips. “Do it again,” he begged. You complied once more before stopping, moving your hands to pull of his shirt so you could trace his abs, “Please,” Jon begged again.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate,” you told him before your eyes flickered back to his body. You trailed your hands over his chest, and you felt Jon buck his hips into yours. In response you lifted your hips up away from his, “You need to be patient,” you warned the crow, “Im much nicer to boys who listen,”

“I’m not a boy,” Jon argued, and you smirked at his words.

Brushing the hair out his face, you looked down at him as he glared at you, “Prove it,” you told him before pressing your hips down, grinding into him again causing him to moan louder this time, “Men don’t beg for me to do this,” you said as you continued rolling your hips against him, “They beg for much more,”

“Please,” Jon begged, his hands moving to grab your hips which you decided to allow, enjoying how they dug into your flesh, “I want to feel you,”

“But do you deserve it?” you asked, still rolling your hips against him, trying to ignore the wet spot that was growing against him and wetting his underclothes.

Jon let out a whine when your hips met his again, “I’ll listen I promise. I promise I’ll be good,” the way he shamelessly begged to be touched made you want to tease him more, but you were afraid he wouldn’t last long enough for it to be worth it.

You hummed at his words, your fingers trailing down his body before arriving at the hem of his remaining clothes. You leant down to press a kiss to his throat as you slid the clothes down his legs. Jon quickly shimmed them off. Now you could see his hard cock that was already red and dripping with precum.

Jons hips bucked as you took his member into your hand, running your thumb over the top. “If you don’t keep still ill stop,” you warned, and Jon did his best to comply as you slowly began to pump your hand up and down. He began to whimper under your touch, begging under his breath to feel you. You moved up to hover over his cock again, running its tip over your wet folds, “Beg me,” you said.

Jon cursed under his breath, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of you against him, “please,” he whimpered, “please just-fuck,” Jon gasped as you sunk down onto him, his eyes screwing shut.

You gasped yourself as you took him in, he was bigger than you had expected. Giving yourself a moment to adjust, you rested your hands on his abs to keep yourself up. Once you began to feel more comfortable you began to roll your hips again, feeling him move deeper into you as you did. “Fuck you feel so good,” you praised, hands gripping onto him. Jon was still moaning under neath you, but you saw a bashful smile cross his lips when you complimented him. “You like that?” you asked moving faster, “Like when I tell you how good you are?”

“Mhmm,” Jon agreed as he let out a string of shameless moans.

You moved your hand to grab his, pulling it up to grab your chest, “Are you scared to touch me crow?” you asked as you used your hands to move his.

“I’m not scared,” Jon said, his breath shaky.

This just made you grin, “Not scared him?” you said, “What pretty noises you're making for me… am I making you feel good?" you asked, and you felt Jon twitch inside you.

You began to roll your hips slower but deeper, feeling yourself hit off his pubic bone, “Fuck please don’t stop,” Jon moaned.

“Aw is the crow gonna cum?” you asked, grabbing his jaw before leaning down to kiss it all while your hips still rolled against his. “You’re such a mess right now you know that?”

“I don’t care,” he stuttered, his breath beginning to catch in his throat.

You continued to leave kisses along his jaw line and neck. “It’s hot when you talk back to me,” you said, your lips grazing his ear before giving it a quick bite.

“You said you don’t bite,” Jon moaned.

“But you like it don’t you?” you said, biting his jaw gently causing him to moan. “You’re so pretty like this,” you said, sitting back up to allow yourself to move your hips better. You sped up you’re bouncing, and you felt Jon squeeze your tits tighter and his cock twitching more.

“I’m gonna,” Jon started to saw, his hips rutting up against yours. You sped up slightly, wanting to savour your last few pumps, before quickly pulling off him. Jon whined but your hands instantly replaced your cunt and within two strokes he had came all over his stomach as you rested over his thighs. “Fuck,” Jon panted as he tried to catch his breath.

You laughed as you fell over to lay beside him, also out of breath. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” you said as Jon whipped his stomach off with a cloth you passed him.

“Is that so?” Jon asked, throwing the cloth to the side, “What about you?” Jon asked as he rolled over to face you.

“What about me?” you asked.

Jons hand trailed over your thighs, his fingers mere inches away from your wet cunt, “You didn’t, you know,” he said, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay I don’t mind,” you told him as you went to push his hand away.

Jon gripped your thigh to stop you, “But I wanted you to,” he pouted.

You raised an eyebrow at the man, “What did you have in mind?” you asked.

Jon trailed his fingers closer to your core which was beginning to feel so empty without him in it, “My watch brothers told me about this thing you do to women to make them,” Jon began to stammer out his words. “You know,”

“You want to make me cum,” you confirmed, and Jon gave you a sheepish nod. You laid back into your furs, settling yourself in. “Show me what how the crows do it,” you told him.

Jon hesitated for a second before he began to shuffle down, his head disappearing under the furs. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, but a moan ripped through your throat as Jon placed a kiss to your cunt. The wildings didn’t do it like this. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had to be smirking as he began to lick a stripe up your cunt. He began soft at first before he began to lap up your juices, his tongue massaging your core. You didn’t stop the moans as he continued to kiss and lick you.

Then you felt his fingers tease your hole and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as they slipped into you. Jons tongue trailed up to focus on placing sloppy kisses to your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. You moaned his name when you felt his fingers curl inside you. Your skin felt hot as his face was buried in your cunt, his spare hand gripping your thighs.

Your hands were knotted in his curls, keeping his face where you needed him. The knot in your stomach tightened with every curl and pump of his fingers. The pressure continued to build as he kissed your clit before taking it in his mouth and lightly sucking it. the feeling sent you over the edge. You gripped his hair even tighter as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue which never stopped till you let go of his hair as you began to come down from your peak.

“Why so quiet now?” Jon teased as he came out from under the furs, his face soaked with your juices.

You were almost gasping for breath as you pulled the furs to cover you, “Is that how the lords please their lady’s?” you asked him.

Jon grinned at you, placing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m not sure,” he confessed, “I just wanted to kiss you there,”

#jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow smut #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #got #got imagine #got smut #request

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urrockstar-xe · 2 months

Text

Please, please, please - d.g x fem!reader

posted july 8th, 2024 10:11 pm

reidsexual asked: “please please please” with dick grayson🙏🙏

OHHHH NOW WE'RE TALKING i hope u don't mind the little twist I did with this one, i also think i could totally go more in depth with this idea but for now, heres ur blurb :)

masterlist

wc: 0.4k

just used brenton cause hes hot and the nightwing gifs are lacking, not necessarily or even close to titans!dick

not proofread

Dick knew full well what he was getting into when he began dating you, how couldn’t he?

Getting with someone who grew up in the darkest parts of Gotham, raised by the worst of the worst, who all seem to have a knack for childcare.

“And who exactly is your new little lady friend?” Of course, Jason was curious, he saw how Dick hesitated every time his little brother mentioned Dick’s latest partner in crime,

Metaphorically, of course.

But before Dick could even finish your name, Jason was in hysterics.

“Her? She’s going to eat you alive, Dickie, and probably stomp in your chest in the process.”

Jason was the 4th person to tell him a variation of that same warning.

“No, man, she’s different than you think, really” He promised.

“Really, Jay, I have good judgment, trust me.” Jason just scoffed, chuckling at his insistence,

“I don’t know if I should laugh at you or feel sad for you over the irony in that statement.”

Dick cannot afford for you to make any mistakes.

Dick watched as you trained, focusing on how hard you were going on the punching bag. He walked up closer, grabbing the bag as you hit it, causing you to stop. “What?” You asked, out of breath.

“Give me your fist” You did just that, watching as he moved your hand in a different position, “try that way, stronger hits. Can’t have you embarrassing me out there” He teased, winking at you as he held the bag. You scoffed, ignoring how your cheeks warmed and the grin that forced its way onto your face.

“So, our date tonight,” You started punching again, listening to Dick’s hum as he waited for you to continue. “What’s the plan, Wonderboy?”

“I was thinking, maybe, we could just spend the night in, get takeout, watch a movie, somethin’ simple” he suggested casually, shrugging. “I was kinda craving some fresh air tonight,” you teased, smiling at his date idea.

“Oh but, baby, the ceiling fan is so nice”

“You just want to have me to yourself, greedy” you mused, punching again, catching him off guard as he chuckled, tightening his hold on the bag.

“What can I do to convince you to let me have you all to myself tonight?” he asked, almost cautious to ask. “Beg.”

here’s his reason to be cautious.

“Please baby, please, please, please.”

“Okay fine, we can have a night in”

His fear of getting hurt from this budding relationship was walking hand in hand with his fear of you crushing his ego, but he loved a thrill.

#dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #titans dick grayson x reader #titans dick grayson x you #Spotify

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jasntodds · 4 months

Text

Burial Plot [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Summary: Jason thinks back on memories of your relationship

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, self-deprecating thoughts (jason), mentions of previous homelessness, mention of addiction (not jason or the reader), mentions of blood, character death, open ending

Words: 8,451

A/n: Dayseeker dropped Replica and Burial Plot really did something for me (again). If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

masterlist | request info | tag list

The cold Gotham breeze nips at Jason’s cheeks as his hands grip the ledge of the roof so hard the solid concrete almost wants to collapse at his feet. The streets are busy below him, the streetlights and buildings illuminating the otherwise dark and gloomy city. Something here manifests and metastasizes into something cruel and unusual, a type of suffering that almost brings the city pure and unfiltered joy. It’s something about this city that feels unbearably cruel sometimes.

Gotham always felt like it was filled of poison with no antidote so maybe that’s why Jason always managed to find himself back in the dreary city.

It’s how he always saw himself, drenched in poison, ruining everything around him even when he desperately tries not to. It’s as if he was cursed from the very beginning and the more he tries the more he messes up. Even coming back from the dead didn’t seem right since even Bruce wanted nothing to do with him. It took him so long to even get into the family’s good graces again because even when he would try his hardest, it always blew up in his face. So, to Jason, there had to be something wrong with him.

But, then, there was you.

Jason remembers the first time you had a proper conversation. You'd met a handful of times prior but never really talked past the usual pleasantries. Dick had asked for your help on a mission even when Jason insisted they had enough help with the other bats and a few of their tag-a-longs. But, Dick insisted.

----

“Red Hood.” You’d snickered through your mask as you watched Jason on his stomach watching the building in front of you through binoculars.

“Something funny?” Jason quipped back with a gentle force of annoyance.

He could do this himself. He did not need to be teamed up with anyone and he had no clue why of all people, he was teamed up with you. You didn't even know each other. At least Jason knew the other bats and their ability and capabilities. You were an unknown factor in this even if he trusted Dick's opinion on you. He knew he could do this himself...in peace and quiet.

“Irony.” You’d stated back. “Red Hood. Joker. Boom.” You shrugged dramatically, earning a glance from Jason. You couldn’t see it through the helmet, but if looks could kill, you’d have been dead on the spot. “It’s not a very threatening name.” Your voice was nonchalant it made Jason want to groan for ten minutes.

“Excuse me?” Jason shook his head.

“I mean…Red Hood." You stated again, just as casually as before. "Not very threatening for a guy who decapitates people and blows people up.”

Jason moved the binoculars from the helmet and looked back at you. “Okay, so what would you have suggested then, huh?” Jason questioned and he’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t somehow both annoyed to hell and back and also, a bit intrigued about where you’d go with this as you knew anything at all about him.

“I think it would have been hilarious if you kept the Robin mantle actually.” Your voice had been airy and filled with amusement as a smile reached your eyes.

Jason had to bite back his own snicker. “Don’t think anyone would else would have.”

“Well, that’s cause they have shit senses of humor. I mean if I hear Dick say one more pun tonight, I think I’ll have an aneurism.”

“Yeah.” Jason lets out a chuckle this time and you felt as though you had won something from it. “His jokes are the fucking worst.” Jason almost groans through the helmet. “But yours aren’t much better, princess.” Jason stated before picking up the binoculars again to go back to watching the building.

A genuine smile came over your features. “I know.”

Jason's eyes had softened when he’d glanced back over at you. Something about how you held yourself during the stakeout, the ease of the conversation and you bringing up his death. He knew your fighting style, knew about your powers. He knew what you could do and how well off you were and how you were able to perfectly handle yourself. But, the ease of you held yourself on that rooftop was as if everything else were going to be easy for you even if it wasn’t. It was interesting and a bit fun.

“How’d Dick rope you into this anyway?” Jason had asked as he kept his eyes on the building.

“I had nothing else to do.” You laughed softly.

It was true. You didn't and Dick asked. His jokes might be bad but he was always one of your best friends so you'd always help when he asked. But, it wasn't all that big of an ask when Dick mentioned Jason would be helping, too. Maybe you had asked to be teamed with him instead of Steph or Tim this time.

“How about you? Dick said you don’t do the team thing very often.” You asked.

“Had nothing else going on.” Jason had chuckled softly. “If Dick was asking me and everyone else, I felt like I had to help." Jason stated even if he didn't really mind helping out his siblings.

“That’s nice of you.” You’d said.

“It’s nothing.” Jason keeps his eyes on the building you were supposed to be watching.

It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t the least bit intrigued by your friend’s brother. Dick talked about him often enough. You knew stories about The Red Hood. Jason Todd had almost seemed interesting from your perspective. The misfit son who gets brutally murdered and comes back to be, somehow, more of the misfit troublemaker that pisses everyone off. Hero turned anti-hero (you’d refused to call him a villain). It was tragic but he still comes back and instead of deciding to make innocent people suffer like most other people would do if they were him, he decided to just do something about it. Maybe his methods are a bit extreme and maybe he’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s doing something for the greater good. That’s not all bad and you’d always thought that was still better than him doing worse or doing nothing. You’d always thought that made him more interesting, more admirable.

And, maybe it doesn’t hurt that he’s kind of pretty with the blue eyes and white streak of contrast amongst the rest of his black hair.

“So…” You cleared your throat.

Jason looked back at you and then back to the building. “What?”

“Are you always so broody?” You asked bluntly as you moved your eyes back to him.

“I’m not broody.” Jason snapped. He was not broody, he was just busy.

“Kind of are.” You’d smiled with confidence.

“We’re supposed—“

“Blah blah blah." You waved him off because you knew exactly what he was going to say. "I know. We are. We can do the stakeout and get to know each other.”

You were not bad company. But, you were blunt and talkative. Jason didn't really know what to make of it, really. This small conversation had shown him that you would ask and say whatever crossed your mind and he has learned that is not always a good thing. Though, your bluntness and how casual you were about the whole thing was a bit intriguing. This was a job, however, and Jason did not come to make friends with Dick's friend.

“Who the hell said I wanted to get to know you?” Jason had snarked back.

“Ouch.” You huffed as you started feeling a little disheartened. “That was mean.” Your nose had scrunched under your mask.

“Look, princess, we’re on a job. That’s all it is. Don’t take it personally.” Jason shook his head and he didn't intend to hurt your feelings but this was supposed to just be a job.

“You can't me princess and one minute it sounds fine but condescending the next. That’s weird. And the job doesn't have to be boring. Doesn’t silence ever bother you?” You’d asked and it was that question that always irked him.

It’s silent a lot for him. He’s used to it but silence is still deafening. Since getting into the good graces with the family finally, it hadn't been as bad. There was usually someone calling him or something he needed to tell one of them. But, silence can eat at him still. It bothered him, just not on a mission or a job. Silence there was always fine though he didn't think that was entirely the point of your question.

“I’m sorry.” Jason muttered. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. Just wanna get this shit done.” He hadn’t looked back at you once.

You were still intrigued by him. You still wanted to get to know him even if he didn't want to get to know you yet. It wasn't some secret Jason was guarded. That was fine. It didn't really bother you. So, maybe it was dumb then but you decided to just go for it.

“Wanna grab something to eat after then?” You asked bluntly, getting Jason’s attention.

“What?” Jason asked quickly as he turned his head to look at you again.

“Like food?” You quipped. “You and me. Food, get to know each other.” Your voice had sounded a little more nervous this time.

"You actually want to get to know me?" Jason questioned. "Thought you were making conversation."

"Well..." You shrugged softly. "Yeah, conversation but I also want to get to know you. You seem fun." You'd managed to pull off a cheeky smile with your last sentence.

Jason had actually laughed. “I seem fun?”

“Are you an owl?” You quipped back as you matched his laughter. “Yeah, Red Hood seems like he’d be fun." You urged. "Get food with me.” You shrugged softly as hope echoed into your eyes.

Jason almost said no. Lately, he regrets not saying no. He should have. He swears left and right, up and down, every piece of him should have just said no. But, he thought you were pretty and funny and interesting. It’d been a while since Jason just got to know someone. He thought it would have been nice and you had so much hope in your eyes, he wasn't sure he could have mustered up a no if he really tried. There was something about you that made him interested enough to just get food. That would be all it would be. Just food. A no was never going to be an answer.

“Fine but I pick the place.” Jason stated before he looked back at the building.

You’d beamed from under the mask, a rush of heat coming to your cheeks. “Okay, Red.” You nearly laughed. “I trust you.”

----

Jason's legs are trembling and it's getting harder to breathe. It is as if his own memories are strangling him from the inside out, a desperate attempt to suck the life out of him one last time. He used to look at that night with a sense of fondness, almost nostalgia because of how far the two of you had come in three years. But, now it's just tainted memories haunted by the vision of you and the false concept of Jason Todd being allowed to be happy.

He remembers so vividly you telling him you trusted him as if it were somehow something so easy for you. You trusted him and you barely knew him. Jason knew then Dick likely told you some stuff about him, Steph, too probably. Maybe the other bats if you ever asked but under no circumstances should you have just so blindly trusted him after meeting him a handful of times, this having been one of the only actual conversations you had. But you did and something about it made Jason both want to jump off the roof and fall right onto the concrete below him and make his heart melt from his chest.

He thinks about it for just that single second, it was nice. It was a silly thought, he swears it was. No one should trust him because people trust him and then they get hurt, right? That’s how the story goes. In one way or another, they get hurt. Maybe it’s Jason doing the hurting in his typical self-destruction way or it’s worse. But, they get hurt. You trusted him and he thinks that’s the exact moment he should have evacuated. That night changed everything because he didn’t. He didn’t evacuate like he had all but been trained to do. He went to get food with you.

----

“So, tell me about you, Jason Todd.” You had grinned wickedly at him as you pointed a limp french fry at him from across the booth.

Jason shook his head as he leaned back. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged and the grin never left your face. “What do you like to do for fun?” You asked so sincerely Jason had burst into a fit of laughter.

It echoes through the small diner. Booms off the booth and the glasses. You’d thought it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His nose had scrunched and his head tilted back. The laugh was hearty and somehow soft. It fit him so well and he seemed so genuinely happy.

“What I do for fun? That’s what you want to know?” Jason quipped back as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry that question wasn’t up to your standards?” You had laughed back and Jason felt his heart skip a single beat.

“No, not that. Of all things you could ask though, that’s what you want to know?” Jason asked.

“Well, yeah.” You’d answered easily. “I know what you do for a living. So, what do you like to do when you’re not doing that?”

There was something so honest and sincere about how you’d asked, Jason almost felt comfortable laying it out. His interests are his and in a way, he always likes keeping them a little close to his chest. Some things he doesn’t tell everyone but others…it’s okay that they know but they’re his. But you were eating your fries, just waiting, filled with hope.

“I like to read.” Jason stated simply as he plucked one of his fries from his plate.

“Oh! Like what?” You asked with eyes wide as you put an elbow on the table to lean in. Dick said Jason was guarded so you didn’t think you’d get too much out of him tonight but you were so relieved you got something from him.

Maybe you’d had a crush on him from a distance for a while.

“Uh..” Jason offered an awkward chuckle. “Like Jane Austen.” Jason shrugged. “Mary Shelley.”

You shook your head in surprise. “Not what I expected.”

“Yeah, yeah--” Jason had started to wave you off.

“No, I mean, I dunno. Thought it’d be like…Godfather-type books. Or something.” You were the one who offered an awkward chuckle that time. “I love Frankenstein.” You'd said it softly with a tender smile and Jason felt relieved.

Jason had asked you what it was about Frankenstein you liked so much and you just went on a whole ramble about it. Jason hung onto every word as if your voice was the sound of his favorite song played on repeat. He just...listened and something about the way he smiled made your heart jump and spin. You may not have had the excessive amount of trauma Jason did but...there was always something that felt comforting when someone let you ramble and he did. Not once did he seem bored or disinterested and then you got to watch his face light up when you asked him why he liked Jane Austen and what his favorites were.

It was Jason's turn to ramble and it wasn't much at first but the more he got going, it was like the more excited about it he got. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and he got a little more dramatic and he relaxed a little in his seat. Jason didn't get a lot of chances to really ramble about his interests, not like this. But, you gave him that in the little diner booth and it felt comforting. It felt nice. It was fun and he'd have been lying if he said he didn't really enjoy it. And the more you asked about his interests and participated in conversation, the more comfortable he felt.

He was still guarded but you shared some interests so it felt easier to let the conversation go where it wanted, bouncing back and forth between some of both of your favorites and hobbies. It felt good to let go for a few hours. You wanted to get to know him and as it would have turned out, he was really enjoying getting to know you, too.

“What else do you do for fun?” Jason asked as he rested his elbow on the table, now a few hours into this getting to know each other thing.

“Ask broody men out to get food.” You’d laughed that was more of a snicker as if you were proud of yourself for the comment and it got Jason to chuckle right back.

“Oh, so I’m just a meal ticket tonight?!” Jason had asked with sarcasm.

“And a conversation!” You had defended, the both of you laughing.

“I am so hurt.” Jason had said it dramatically, easily.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Your eyes had widened with sarcasm. “How will you ever recover?” You faked a whine, a hand over your heart and then Jason gained this smirk.

Jason knew it was getting to be early in the morning and you'd have to end this whole thing soon but that did not mean he didn't want to continue getting to know you. You were right. This was fun and maybe he liked your company after all. He liked how easy you made this whole thing seem. No part of him really wanted this to end so he decided to go for it, just as you did.

“What are you doing Thursday?” Jason asked bluntly.

It caught you off guard and it took everything in you not to burst at the seams. You hoped Jason didn’t notice.

He did.

“Uh…” You stuttered with a gushy smile. “Nothing, I don’t think.” You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down the smile while you failed miserably. “What’d you have in mind?”

----

Tears are hot on Jason’s cheeks as he remembers that night as if it had just happened. His teeth are clenched so hard they might just shatter right through his gums. His breathing is quick and everything starts to ache.

You had been so happy that he asked you to do something with him, he never thought twice about taking it back. The thought could have crept up on him and he would have shoved it into the darkest corner of his mind because the idea of disappointing you nearly shattered him. He didn’t even know you but there was hope and kindness and sarcasm and you were funny. You didn’t care. You told him Red Hood was not scary. You looked at him with kindness and hope, two things most people do not look at him with and he felt important for those four hours in that booth with you. So, he decided to take that risk.

Risks are a part of his daily life. They are usually calculated and you had told him they were not always calculated in a way that was really all too beneficial to him. The odds were never on his side very often. But that’s just part of the job, something you did understand. Jason was used to risk. His whole life had been one risk after the other just to survive. He was good at taking risks and showing them he didn’t care. This was a risk he wishes he never took though. Showing you these parts of himself and finally letting his guard down. He regrets that risk because he had just done what he always does and wouldn’t have caved about it, none of this would have happened because you would have given up. He bites his tongue as he remembers the exact moment he wanted to flee and decided not to.

----

You were on a rooftop in Crime Alley, not too high up and below you, Jason was kneeling in front of a few kids. You were not spying on him. You were supposed to meet up together while you were in Gotham, this was the spot but apparently, the kids had other ideas. He was just kneeling down to their level, no helmet and a smile beaming back at them. The two kids who couldn’t have been older than seven, looked at him like he was their hero. Jason was not the scary Red Hood who blows people up with c4 or the guy who will decapitate people to get what he wants from other people or the guy who might as well be a sharpshooter and is not afraid to display it. They do not look at him like a weapon. They look at him like he will protect them and he is so kind.

You’d been on a few dates over the last few months, nothing too serious even if neither of you were looking or talking to anyone else. It was nothing too serious even if you both talked nearly nonstop and maybe you couldn’t stop thinking about each other. But, it’d only been a few dates and you didn’t know each other too well yet and that was okay. But, something you had learned was that Jason is very kind. He is a huge asshole but he is so kind. Innocent people, kids, he is nice to them, far nicer than most people are. Jason Todd can and will kill people but he is not as ruthless and calloused as other people think he is and maybe have convinced him he is. So you had sat on that rooftop and watched him with those kids.

He laughed at what you would only assume were bad jokes and Jason never let the smile fall from his lips. It was just the two kids at first then there were five and then ten. He somehow had gathered a group of kids who were just interested in meeting the Red Hood. One of them had a scraped knee so you watched as Jason pulled out a bandaid from his tactical belt. You couldn’t make it out but you did see it was purple and black. He spent an hour just entertaining these kids before they finally decided to disburse.

“Kids, huh?” You had asked once your feet were on solid ground.

Jason quickly turned around, a quirked brow raised as he looked to the roof. “How long were you watching me?”

“Well, I’m never late so…” Your mask covered your smile but he could tell by the way you looked down and the crinkles by your eyes you were smiling. “You’re different with them.” You stated, blunt as always.

“Well, they’re kids so….” Jason said, unsure what your point would have been.

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean…kids…the, uh, the homeless, sex workers, addicts. You're different. You’re different with people here.” You pointed it out because you'd noticed before.

This was your third time in Crime Alley with Jason and he was always different here. It was always rooted in an understanding and a genuine kindness and empathy for things people have dealt with. He never treated someone differently because of their circumstances and instead, he fought for them. You'd seen your fair share of people being cruel to kids and the homeless, sex workers, addicts, the poor. Jason just isn't. Jason gave you a little more faith in humanity.

Meanwhile, Jason could never wrap his head around your bluntness. You never cared how something sounded or how it came off. You just said what you were thinking. That scared him. And made him feel at ease. He knew he would never have to question your intentions but he also had absolutely no idea what you were thinking.

“Grew up here.” Jason pulled in a breath as he rested the helmet on his hip. “I know what it's like.” Jason admitted and it was a small sliver of information he gave up willingly.

You had nodded softly. “Yeah, uh…Dick said you grew up here. Shit was hard for you until Bruce caught you.”

Jason had let out this sort of scoff that was almost a chuckle as he looked up to the sky and then the right. You couldn't tell if it was something bitter in him that was turning or something pleasant. You'd have put your bet on something bitter if he'd asked.

“Yeah, something like that.” Jason looked back to you, shifting his weight.

Dick had warned you to be careful. It was not to be mean towards Jason by any means. It was more because Dick knew Jason tended to push and self-sabotage things. He wanted you not to pry too much too quick. You knew you’d likely have to ask him direct questions if there were things you wanted to know but you knew not to pry too much. You didn’t want to scare him off but it’s been a few months and a few dates and you were curious about it. You wanted to know what made Jason Todd, Jason Todd.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You asked and you were cautious, something you never really were when asking him things.

Jason had hesitated for a second. It was not a secret. He just prefers to not talk about himself and there was a little bit of something bitter thinking about all of it. Thinking about his life in Crime Alley brings back to him meeting Bruce and then dying. It brings him back to coming back and the way Bruce looked at him like he were a monster before throwing a baterang at his neck. It was the way Jason couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t just forgive each other. It brings back bitterness and pain he can’t quite explain. But, it wasn’t all bad and if he were being really honest, he kind of really liked you. Maybe he could tell you some things about it. You'd yet to give him any reason to not tell you so he decided to take that risk and let you into a small part of his world.

“What’d ya wanna know?” Jason asked before he put the helmet back on.

“Uh…” You weren’t sure if he’d be okay to talk about it so you were unprepared. “Whatever you wanna tell me.” You stated simply as you closed the distance between you.

“Well,” Jason cleared his throat. “It wasn’t all bad.” Jason managed a chuckle before he started telling you things about growing up here and things about his parents, helping you better understand him as a person while also allowing Jason’s trust in you to grow.

----

He stands on this rooftop, desperately begging to go back in time and take the risk back. He wants to fall back to three years ago and rip that night from the both of you. You will be disappointed but that is significantly better than this. Jason swears it is better than this. He can not have you. That is fine. You will do better, you will find better, you always deserved better. He wants to go back and take everything back.

His hands are gripping the cement as if that’ll send him into the past and it only makes his chest feel like it might split open and spill his heart out. He'd dig his own hand into his ribcage and rip his heart from his chest if it would fix any of this. Jason's hands shake with his grip and he would do anything, sacrifice anything he could just to go back. He wants to take it all back even if it’ll hurt you because he remembers that time you told him you had a crush on him.

----

“How long?!” Jason had scrunched his face, confused and insane amused.

“Like a year.” It was more of an awkward giggle that you let out. “I don’t know!” You threw your arm out dramatically, almost regretting telling him. You knew he would be teasing you forever over it now.

“You’ve liked me for a year?” Jason chuckled. “Fucking why? You didn’t even know me!” Jason repositioned on the couch, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he faced you.

“That was part of the fun!” Your eyes had widened as you defended yourself. “I don’t know. Something about the white streak of hair and broad shoulders and…” You pulled in a breath as you shook your head at him, more to try and tease him. “I don’t know. I thought you seemed interesting.”

Dick introduced you at one of the Wayne party things they had at the manor. You were so nervous you could have died right then and there. It really was something about the white streak of hair and the broad shoulders, the thick thighs, and the way his eyes were so damn pretty you could have combusted. His canines were a bit sharp so it looked like he had tiny fangs when the sun hit them just right. Jason didn’t say too much but you thought he was pretty. And you caught glimpses of him throughout the day, laughing with his siblings and rolling his eyes at Bruce and helping Alfred with some of the food. He was big and tall and a little intimidating but not when he was just existing with his family and you found that interesting. The crush went from there.

“Was this before or after Dick told you about me?" Jason had raised a brow, still trying to fathom why you were so interested in him without having had a single conversation.

"After." You answered simply. "He told me all of your stories pretty early on into the friendship. Got to hear all about the kids of Bruce Wayne and company." You stated with a soft smile.

"Why then?" It was a genuine question he had. "And why didn't you say anything for a year?" Jason probably wouldn't have said anything at all if it were him but he's surprised you waited so long since you never seemed to hide any of your emotions.

"I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it." You laughed softly, looking down for a second before looking back to him. "I didn't see you often, thought maybe it'd fade but it did not." You scrunched your nose as your smile grew. "But, uh, I don't know. Dick told me you died and how and…that you guys didn’t get along to put it lightly…since you came back. At first. You were all good then now but it took awhile. But then I meet you and…” You shook your head. “You didn’t seem…mean or…threatening. I don’t know.” You could feel the heat start to burn your cheeks.

You had only heard the story from Dick's point of view at that time. You've since gotten Jason's side but only hearing Dick's was different. There was anger and a sense of betrayal even if it wasn't rightfully placed. It was as if Jason being brought back brought back all of their guilt and grief, too but they never had any way to deal with it. They didn't know where to put it so they put it on the person that caused it, in a roundabout way. It wasn't right and it wasn't right what Jason was doing either. It was just a mess of miscommunication and the inability to move on. Dick spoke fondly of Jason by the time you met, but he told you about all of it so despite his kind words about Jason, you thought maybe he'd be a bit mean and cold and broody and intimidating. But he was not. He was warm and kind and he looked happy. You found it interesting that after everything, Jason was not a cold and cruel person.

“Hey, you can’t go around saying I’m not threatening.” Jason had given you this teasing grin. “You’ll ruin my rep.”

You let out a snort. “Didn’t you just save like a litter of kittens from a car, gave the driver the dirtiest look I had ever seen, and then wouldn’t leave the shelter until they told you they would be fine? Did you not just do that two days ago? Did you not call today to check on them?”

“I’m sorry, should I have let that dickhead hit the kittens?!” Jason asked in horror.

“No!” You let out this laugh that Jason nearly melted into. “I’m just saying, it is not me saying you aren’t threatening. It is going to be those kittens. They’re gonna tell all the other kittens and they’re gonna show up here and then you’re gonna have beef with Selina. I don’t think that’s something you want.” You shrugged casually, trying to withhold your own laugh.

Jason’s booming laugh consumed his entire apartment. “I did not realize saving those kittens would have such a butterfly effect on my relationship with Selina.”

“Shut up!” You groaned as you tossed your head back.

“Okay can we go back to you having a massive crush on me for a year?” Jason eyed you with big doe eyes, mocking you.

“I hate you.” You deadpanned.

“No, you don’t.” Jason pulled in a breath as he gained a giant smile. “Because of your crush on me.” He batted his eyes at you and you wanted to kiss the growing smirk right off of his lips.

“Yeah, I hate you actually. You suck.” You crossed your arms and gave him a fake pout. “My feelings are hurt and everything!”

Jason chuckled before he grabbed your hand from your arm. “I hurt your feelings?” Jason questioned with disbelief, knowing damn well he did not.

“Yes, you did.” You struggled desperately not to break into a fit of laughter as Jason pulled you into his lap.

“You look really hurt.” Jason nodded his head sarcastically, his eyes looking up at you and you thought you'd melt into him.

“I am!” You said it dramatically as a laugh slipped from your lips.

“Right.” Jason nodded his head, his hands coming to your hips. “I am so sorry, could you ever think to forgive me?” Jason questioned with so much sarcasm, you thought he’d start to lose his composure.

“I don’t know.” You answered with a dramatic pout.

Jason let out a laugh. “Your big ole crush on me won’t let you stay mad at me.” Jason leaned toward you, his eyes dodging to your lips.

“You are insufferable.” You stated quietly.

“Sure.” Jason muttered before his hand came to your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss. “So insufferable.” Jason muttered against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You rolled your eyes and Jason did not waste a single second more to complete the request.

----

Jason remembers how happy it all was. You were like this beam of light in his life and for once, it didn’t seem so damn grim. Half the time, he didn’t care if he came home or not. But then you started dating and he fell so hard for you that he didn’t think he’d ever stop falling. And suddenly, there was this big reason to come home every night. The loss of him for you would hurt, even if it were momentary. And…he liked being able to come home to you on weekends when you'd stay in Gotham. He liked having someone to come home to. He liked being happy and having a reason to be happy.

Half that time he didn’t care if he came home or not and that caused its fair share of fights. Jason's breath shakes in the cold breeze as his chin quivers, remembering the fights you'd have about it. There were never many because you just didn't fight. Jason would sometimes push and pull, try to sabotage things and you always just called him on his shit, rarely ever even raising your voice at him. But, these fights happened because you cared about him and Jason didn't know what he was supposed to do with that. He was never entirely sure if he could carry it even though you became one of the most important people in his life. He thought you'd leave, maybe, until the last time you fought about it. As tears spill from his eyes, he remembers the last fight you ever had about him being careful.

----

“Why the fuck are you mad now?” Jason groaned from the bathroom as he cleaned up the first aid supplies.

“I don’t fucking know, Jay. Why the fuck would I be mad?!” You yelled back, storming through his apartment. Everything felt too tight, too hard, too much.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have fucking asked!” Jason yelled back as he followed you into the living room.

You didn’t normally fight and if you did, it was small stuff. Not this. This felt big. It had scared him because as much as he loved to push, he didn't want to lose you. It was never about him, it was always about you deserving better than him or deserving more. But, he almost felt paralyzed at the thought this fight wasn't going to be like the others. He thought you'd finally had it.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” It was more a mutter but Jason was close enough to you not that he heard it.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” Jason questioned and he could feel his heart breaking into pieces through his throat.

“Maybe you should fucking know why I’m pissed. But you don’t. Did you ever consider that is the problem, Jay?”

It was not that you were even mad. It was that you were worried about him. You'd just cleaned up a few really nasty cuts again and that was fine. You didn't mind. He always did it for you, too. It was part of the job. It was how frequent it happen and how nonchalant he always was about the whole damn thing. It terrified you and you'd told him over and over. He was normally a good listener but...not when it came to this. And it hurt.

“You were fine earlier! Now you’re not?!” Jason looked to the ceiling in frustration. “I am not a damn mind reader!”

You nearly pulled your hair out. “I am not asking to be a mind reader!” You screamed back at him as tears burned your eyes. “I am asking you to fucking listen to me!”

“I do listen--”

“No! I get it.” You caved, bringing your voice back down but it is far more in frustration. “I get what you do. I am not asking you to give it up. I am asking you to be careful.” The last few words had come out as a plea and the fury and annoyance Jason had disappeared.

“That’s just part of the job.” Jason tried to defend softly this time.

“We both know you can be more careful, Jay.” You said it so candidly that Jason felt guilty for not trying harder. You were right. “Uh…I, uh, I had a nightmare a few nights ago.” You confessed. “And, uh, it was about you. And I’ve been thinking about it ever since because it felt really real. And then today…it just…” You shook your head. “This has been…the best year of my life.” You admitted as your chin started to wrinkle and your bottom lip quivered. “Because of you so I think…about losing you and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Jason almost felt frozen because he couldn't tell where this was going to go and he wasn’t sure where he wanted it to go. The only thing he did know was that he didn't want you worrying so much about him and he felt guilty for putting it on you.

“I know it’s part of the job.” You nodded easily. “I know. I do it, too. But that doesn't make it hurt any less.” You admitted. “And I just…I wish you would be a little bit more careful because I love you.”

Everything froze for Jason. The idea of being loved is almost something he had chased for so long, he never thought he’d get it. He always chased it only to bite it when it comes close to him. It’s scary. The idea of someone loving him and him loving someone else. What if he fucks it up like he’s done to everything else? He couldn't believe he hadn’t fucked this up yet. You’ve clocked him self-sabotaging a few times, he hadn’t in a while but you caught it. You swore he never needed to because you liked him for him. You didn’t care about the dark and scary shit inside his head or the things he’d done. That never mattered to you because he is kind and a good person. He never could believe it but he chose to trust you anyway. And now he was standing here and he had no idea what to do because he could run but the idea of that made him want to burn through the floor.

“What?” Jason finally got out.

“I love you.” You said it again, honestly. It wasn't really how you wanted to tell him. You knew you would eventually but Jason can be a little skittish so you only wanted to do it when you thought he was ready to hear it. You were not sure if he was ready but you couldn't hide it from him anymore. “It’s okay if you don’t feel that way.” You nodded your head even if you didn’t think that was the problem. “Or if you’re unsure if you can say it. I just…I wanted to tell you so maybe…” You had let out a breath. “You’ll know why I worry and I want you to be more careful. I know that…this might not go the way we want in the end but…I just want you to try.”

He thought he didn’t deserve you. He did not deserve that sort of kindness or care or worry but you offered it so easily. You offered it to him as if it was the same as taking a breath. You offered an understanding with it. It’s something even Jason didn’t think about much, you being the one that didn’t make it home. He pushed it away because he felt like he might fall into the center of the earth if that would happen. It would be earth-shattering to him if it were you. You were at least careful when you would go on patrol and he did think that would help, to know you tried to come home to him. It is not fair to not offer you the same deal.

Jason closed the distance between you and you didn’t think he’d say it back which was okay. It would hurt but he had told you so much. Ever since that night months ago when you asked about his childhood, he had told you so much. You knew about being homeless and the things he has witnessed even as a child. You knew. You knew the horrors he had encountered through his life and if it were you, you weren't so sure you would offer those words. But just because he may not be able to say them, did not mean he did not deserve to know how you felt. That did not mean he did not deserve to know people loved him and they wanted him to stay alive. It would hurt but you thought it’d be fine because you knew he loved you.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Jason stated, his voice rough and honest as a hand came to your cheek. His thumb rubbed over your cheek as you nodded against him. “I’ll be careful.” He stated. “I didn’t know.” He admitted.

“I know.” You started back, eyes locked on his. They were red and his eyes were a deep shade of blue like he was on the verge of bursting into tears. “That’s why I told you.”

“Promise, I’ll be more careful out there.” Jason nodded down at you. “I, uh…” Jason pulled in a breath. “I love you, too.” He said carefully but honestly as a gentle smile came to your face.

“Was hoping you did.” You nodded back at him. “I’m sorry for getting so mad. Just worry.”

“It’s okay.” Jason pulled you into him, his arms engulfing you. “I know you worry. I’m sorry for yelling back.” Jason apologized, placing a kiss to your head.

“Can we just get takeout?” You let out a soft laugh, looking up to him. “We can eat and watch some bad reality TV.”

Jason let out a laugh. “What food were you feeling?”

----

A sob rips through Jason’s throat, clawing its way into the cold of Gotham’s air. His legs give out before he can catch a breath and he collapses onto the pavement of the roof. It all hurts. Every piece of his body is aching and crashing like it never should have made it this far. His arms and legs shake as he turns to rest his back against the ledge. He pulls his legs to his chest as his face becomes soaked in his own tears. His lungs start to burn with every sob as he can’t get a full breath in. The world around him starts to spin and it all hurts. Why does it have to hurt so much? He loves you and he will always love you and it will always be painful.

----

Lightning ripped through the sky and you were handling yourself as you always did. You were good on your own. But that night, five days ago, was different. It was different because it was not some big bad that would be the cause. All of that was going so well. It was a simple mistake. Wrong timing. An accident.

Jason had been fighting one of the goons, a nasty fistfight. The goon had some sort of training. Jason was confident, he’d beat him he put up a hell of a fight. It was a hell of a fight until it turned more brutal, getting more physical with punches and kicks, the goon picking Jason up and trying to throw him across the lot. It was getting messy while you were dealing with one of the metas. You were throwing lightning bolts as fast as you could manage while minding where Jason was. It should have been fine because you’d done this before. But, Jason tripped.

He tripped over something left on the ground and that gave the goon enough of a gap to grab him. When he was grabbed, Jason was thrown right into a pile of glass and metal just as you were throwing a lightning bolt in that direction at the meta. You missed Jason but you hit the reflective metals, sending the bolt back to you.

You went down immediately and Jason stopped breathing. The goon and meta took off while Jason was back on his feet, rushing over to you. Panic had flooded his body in that exact instant. You went down hard and the lightning threw you back. He knew.

He pulled your body into his lap, checking for a pulse and trying to feel if you were breathing only to find nothing. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold you in his lap.

He called your name with a tremble of his voice. “Come on, you gotta wake up.” He said it quietly, trying to keep himself together, desperately still trying to find a pulse. “Wake up.” He said it more sternly that time as he shook your head lightly.

You were lifeless in his lap and he was at a loss. What is he supposed to do?!

He moved to put your back on the ground and he started CPR before he used the comms to get ahold of Oracle. He told her what happened as he performed CPR, desperate to bring you back to him. You had to come back, right? It was your own lightning bolt. How can you be killed by your own powers? That sounds like such a rip-off. And Jason bit his sobs back because it shouldn’t have been you. It couldn't be you. It was supposed to be him because he needed to be more careful. He didn’t have powers. He already died before. He put a bomb in his helmet. It was supposed to be him to go first but you were not breathing.

You wouldn't breathe.

He tried and he tried until the other bats started showing to offer some help. He tried and tried and tried and it wasn’t good enough because the lightning was too much and he was clumsy. He fucking tripped and he slipped and that was it. It led you to getting hurt. It led you to getting killed. It is all his fault.

----

Jason’s hands cover his face as he keeps sobbing, nausea filling his stomach. His stomach is in agonizing pain and he can’t bear to even attempt to pull himself together. What is he supposed to do? It’s his fault. He can never forgive himself for it and he knows it. You deserved better and he should have just said no three years ago. Had he just turned you down, you’d be alive and off somewhere living your life. Had he just been more careful. It doesn’t matter that everyone has tried to convince him it wasn’t his fault because he always sees it that way. And he misses you.

He wakes up and he misses you and that’s if he can even get any damn sleep. He wakes up and he misses you and he tries to eat and he misses you. Bruce comes over to check on him and he misses you. He sees some of your stuff littered over his apartment and he misses you. His entire chest feels like it might cave right in every single second of every day. It’s as if he is dragging his feet from one minute to the next with no real destination or desire. He moves because he has no choice. He just wants the pain to stop. He wants you back. You didn’t deserve to die.

How he is ever supposed to move on from this? From you?

The memories he once looked back on are now tainted with pain. And that is the only thing he has left of you. What is he supposed to do?

How is he supposed to live with the pain of losing you?

Hands rest on Jason’s knees, gentle and soft, gathering Jason’s attention. Jason’s own sobs were so loud, he entirely missed the presence of another person coming onto the roof with him and he missed the sound of footsteps approaching and then stopping in front of him. He missed it all and not a single part of him even cares. But, he looks up anyway and his breath catches in his throat as his eyes widen. How?

“Jay?” Your voice is quiet and broken with the sight of him.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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rinhaler · 11 months

Text

I Finally Decided On You

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭rin itoshi x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: in my feelings abt a friendship break up so have some angst heheheee Warnings: 18+, mutual pining, angst, pet names, cheating, dacryphilia, tit sucking ♡, vaginal sex, choking ♡, love bites, breeding kink, creampie ♡ Words: 5.8k

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitches as the words make their way into your brain. His eyes have been fixed on you for what seems like a lifetime, but it’s only after you hear him ask something so personal, so intimate, that you can bring yourself to look at him. His glimmering, jade eyes are so striking, so captivating, you can’t help but want to bare your soul to him.

“You shouldn’t ask me something like that.” you whisper, unable to hide your smile as you are both all too aware of the irony of your sentence. There are so many things neither of you should be doing right now.

And yet, here you are, allowing the 4am sky to encase your bodies in a melancholic blanket. You’re waiting for one more sentence to spill from his lips that will have your deepest secrets tumbling from yours.

You know him.

He knows you.

And it’s so comforting.

You��ve never felt like this with anyone before. He’s so easy to talk to, and even easier to be around. It’s almost like a punishment. The worlds cruellest joke that you’re being subjected to.

“You shouldn’t be in my bed, but you’re here. So, talk to me.” he smiles, effortlessly. A smile that he’d only ever show you. An expression that only you are worthy of and the only person he’d ever trust to experience it. It’s so loving. It’s like being home.

You’re quiet, your own smile fading slightly as you think about his question. What had you done to make him even ask it? You’re lonely. Is that true? You have friends, family, a lover. Realistically, you can’t be lonely.

“I am.” you tell him, honestly, finally finding his gaze once more. Allowing him to scan your trusting eyes so he can see there isn’t a trace of a lie. And he does, stare, until he looks at your lips briefly, and then back to your eyes.

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes.”

He hums, thinking about it for a moment. You don’t deserve to feel that way. Though it may be his heart talking. It might be the fact that he’s head over heels in love with you.

Every moment with you is so saccharine, so disgustingly dizzying that it could make him vomit from excess. He can’t get enough of you. He’s ravenous for you.

Your taste.

Each kiss you allow him to take is so seraphic, your candied lips cloying his insides. It hurts to be with you sometimes, he knows what this is and what it will be. He knows what he is to you and what he will never be. He hates himself, and honestly, he hates you a little bit in that same breath. Though he locks that feeling of loathing deep down inside, he doesn’t want to feel it. He doesn’t want to care that much.

Whatever you are to each other now, in this moment, is enough.

His face nears yours, and you observe him as his eyes close. Yours close too, gently, and you feel his lips on yours. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he deepens the kiss only slightly. He pulls away, eyes glittering as he observes you. He’s making sure you’re okay, that what he just did was okay.

And it is.

He pulls you closer to him, enveloping your body in his before carefully planting his lips on your cheek. He sighs, a little. The heavy, disheartened breath rushing through your ear canal. It makes you shudder, so he holds you tighter.

“You aren’t alone, you know.” he tells you, quietly. You feel tears pricking at your eyes as he starts speaking. He cares, so much, you can almost feel his passion vibrating from his skin and passing through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” you sniffle. “It’s just hard.”

“I know.” he agrees, kissing atop your head as a show of comfort. He just can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop himself from being with you like this, even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. These moments with you are his main source of happiness. Getting to know you so viscerally is everything to him. Whenever you’re together, like this, he gets to peel back another layer of who you are.

“I’m so—” you stop, your eyes catching his again before you brush away the thought. You’re playing with fire, with him. You’re letting him scrutinize your body as you bare your self-inflicted gaping wounds. Allowing him to decide whether to pour alcohol and salt into your ruined flesh. “I’m just sick of feeling like shit all of the time.” you sigh a little before laughing.

“Don’t.” he huffs, his thumb stroking your face again. It’s a bid to make your body submit to his. “I don’t like it when you perform for me.”

You smile, again, nodding in acceptance as you take his word as truth. It makes sense why he isn’t fond of you acting for him, though for some reason you can’t seem to help yourself. Wrapping your body in an invisible gauze as you do all that you can to prevent your lacerated skin from becoming infected by him.

“Rin?” you whisper again, almost hoping he won’t have heard you say his name. “Do you love me?”

The question almost wounds him. You see his eyes begin to tremor as he wonders if you want him to answer that. And answer it genuinely. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Your bodies are mirrored up above, and he can’t help but stare at his own reflection as he contemplates how to answer. His heart skips a beat when you inch closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso as you caress him and await his response.

He hates how little effort you need to make to force him to smile.

“Yeah.” he tells you. But he doesn’t look at you, still staring at himself in the mirror above. It’s a confession for him as well as you. “I’m in love with you. Is that okay?”

Of course he’s asking for permission to love you. Though even if you were to say no, it’s not like he could just stop his feelings. It isn’t okay, of course it isn’t. Nothing about what you’re doing is okay. Whatever you’re not meant to do always makes you feel most alive. It makes you feel excited. And right now, you feel wanted. You feel loved.

You don’t feel lonely.

You’re quiet for a moment, but you hope the smile you’re donning will show that you’re appreciative of his honesty. It takes you a while to think about how to respond. You could say it back, but what good will it do? If you don’t say anything, you’re sure he’ll be upset, but he won’t tell you that. You don’t want to hurt him, that’s the last thing you want.

“Thank you.” you tell him.

He doesn’t say anything to that. He closes his eyes, a soft chuckle emanating from him as he processes the rejection. In his mind, that smart, logical mind of his, he knew you wouldn’t say it back. Why would you? Even if it was true, it’s too messy. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, you both know it, so why would you say it back? But then again, why would you ask his feelings in the first place? His heart is screaming at him with every aggressive beat against his ribcage. It’s telling him, despite the logic working overtime in his brain, that you love him too.

“Do you love me?” he wonders, finally allowing his head to roll to the side again so that you’re making eye contact once more.

And you’re silent. You can see in his eyes that he’s pleading with you to reciprocate his feelings. To verbalise them. He wants you to mean it, though. He’d rather you not say a word than lie to him.

But, he knows you.

He knows your mind body and soul and he truly believes that you feel the same way about him. So tell him, won’t you? Lay your heart bare and just tell him the truth. No matter what the world throws at you, he’s certain you can handle it, together. Whatever concerns you have, he’ll protect you. Any repercussions you think will follow you from following your heart, he won’t allow. He’ll do anything for you. Anything to be with you. So look into his emerald eyes and be honest with him.

Be honest with yourself.

“Please,” you start, “please never ask me that again.”

The words cut like a knife. Or rather, he feels like he stopped existing the moment you finish your sentence. It’s like being in a car accident and dying on impact. He looks up at the ceiling again, closing his eyes, knowing the tears are soon to pour from them if he doesn’t get a grip.

Why would you say that?

You still haven’t given a clear answer. And really, he knows why you said what you did. It’s self-preservation. Maybe you think you’re protecting him, too. But you aren’t. You’re the reason his heart beats and this is the reason that it will stop. Every moment from now will be agony. Without an answer, you’ve given him one. And he despises you, now. He thinks you’re selfish.

He thinks you’re a fucking coward.

“Then… what is this?” he wonders, still not daring to widen his eyes and give you the satisfaction of seeing him cry. You can barely stand to look at him now though. Not when he’s being like this. You don’t want to hurt him, truly. But there’s no use in giving him hope that isn’t there. This is for the best, you’re sure. “Have you just been using me for the last two years? When you’re… fucking lonely.” his own breath hitches and he wants to disappear. From your line of sight, from the room, from the fucking planet.

“It’s not like that, Rin.” you sigh, and it’s almost breathless as you try and conjure the right words to alleviate his pain. There’s nothing you can say that won’t hurt. The damage is done. You’ve broken him. “You know the first time was a mistake… and then it just kept happening… and then—”

“And then you—” he balls up his fists until his arms begin to tremble. But he takes a breath, anger leaving him as he exhales. He’s always been good at that. He always knows when he’s getting too worked up and knows how to take it down a notch and compose himself. He’s calculated with everything he does. But he supposes you’re the exception. There was nothing calculated in regard to you. He fell into this fucking mess with you, because it’s you. “… Don’t you think the fact we’ve been making the same ‘mistake’ for so long means it might not be a mistake.” he talks, quietly. You can’t tell if he’s asking you a question or simply speaking words for you to hear.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You can’t contradict yourself now. It’s a valid point, of course. Is a repeated mistake truly a mistake? Maybe you and he are made for each other. Being with him could be easy, if you wanted. Being honest with yourselves and those around you might be easier than you think. Being able to hold his hand and go out on dates like a normal couple. Could it really be so simple?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you respond, bluntly. It’s harsh. The words make your mouth swell with discomfort and a horrendous desire to burst into tears. Nothing else will get through to him, you think. Being nice is getting neither of you anywhere. You gulp, and it’s like swallowing razor blades as you see how fucking shattered his face becomes.

He scoffs, a little, and sits upright in bed. You chase him, somewhat, sitting upright beside him and placing your hand on his shoulder. And you gasp, quietly, as he shrugs away from your touch. Your defeated hands fall into your lap as you continue to sit beside him, your eyes alternate from looking at his side profile to your twiddling thumbs.

Rejection was always bound to come eventually. He wishes he never opened his mouth, though. The delusion could have carried on a little while longer. Why did you have to ask if he loved you? You surely knew already. His mind roars at him to run. He’s staring at his sneakers placed meticulously by his wardrobe as he thinks about where he could go. Anywhere away from here.

Away from you.

But the child in him… is resilient. He’s never been one to accept true defeat. He’s never been the type to give up on his dreams or quit when he truly believes there is a chance at happiness for him. You see his hand move to his obscured cheek, and you’re sure he’s wiping away a tear.

It’s all but confirmed when he looks at you. Teal eyes almost illuminate the room as they look at you. Crystalline droplets reside in his lashline, and his eyes keep shimmering as they take in every solitary detail of your beguiling face. He can’t lose you. You’re perfect for him.

And he loves you.

He leans towards you, and you don’t fight it. Your lips slotting beautifully against one another as you melt into his kiss. It’s prolonged and it’s deep. You feel as though he’s giving you everything he has. Everything he is as a final farewell. The thought of never seeing him again makes you break away, panting desperately before you comb his hair out of his face.

“What are you doing, Rin?” you whisper.

This time you’re left without an answer. He grips his fingers into your soft hips and helps you move above him, straddling him so that he can look up into the eyes of the woman he loves more than he ever has or will love anyone.

“Play with my hair, please.” he whispers back against your bare skin as he lifts your tank top to expose your breasts. You do as he asks, combing your fingers through his hair again as he sweetly kisses your erect nipples. The only sound filling the room is his puckered kisses and your laboured breaths.

You hum, intoxicated, as kisses turn to suckles. They’re soft and careful, your skin breaks out in bumps as your flesh tries to huddle together to keep in the warmth. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you, briefly, before focusing on your tits again. He wraps his arms tightly around your torso in a bid to pull you closer. Your cotton-clad mound humping against his straining cock in the process.

He grunts against your skin when he feels the wetness pooling on your panties transferring to his boxers. One of his hand roams to squeeze the fat of your ass, a squeaking yelp escapes you as you feel thick bruising fingers dig into your supple flesh. He gentle nibbles your swollen tits, eliciting a mewl from you that speaks to your infatuation with him. Whether you care to admit it or not, he knows your body enough to understand the truth.

“Rin,” you shudder, throwing your head back in an attempt to gain some distance from what is happening and retrieve your thoughts. He doesn’t stop, though. But his eyes meet yours again when you return. He’s listening. He’s clinging to your every thought. “I-Is this really what you want?” you ask him. And he nods, slowly, relinquishing one nipple from his mouth with a pop and licking his cherry bitten lips.

“’m not a mistake, baby…” he tells you in hushed tones before sucking your neglected nipple momentarily. He means it, too. You don’t think he’s a mistake. In truth, you think the world of Rin Itoshi. You wish you met at a different time. Things could be how you both want them to be. But this is how things are. You feel tears you hadn’t given permission begin to roll down your cheeks as you think about how lowly he views himself because of you. You are a fucking coward, you always have been. “I can be right for you, princess. I can.”

You hear him sniff a little before he continues making out with your aching tits. And you push his hair out of his face again, getting a perfect view of his lusciously long eyelashes. You can’t see his pretty green eyes from this angle, they’re focused intently on your chest. But his eyes snap to your when he hears you sniffling too.

“Rin… I-Is this—?”

“Do you want to do that thing you like?” he asks, breath fanning over your spit soaked tits as he snaps you from your thoughts. He encourages you to move a little as he hooks his fingers into your panties and tries to pull them down your legs. It’s clumsy, and it makes you laugh as you shuffle around awkwardly until they’re off. And he throws them across the room before your lips crash together again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him. He swallows your moans like they’re holy and he’s fucking greedy. He manages to snake his hand between your bodies to free his length. And your vision strays to see it. His gorgeous, pretty cock. It’s beautiful and pink, though the darkness of the room hides it well. You know it from memory by now. But you can’t mistake the drooling precum leaking from his slit and down his shaft as he strokes his length at a steady pace while he kisses you again.

But you break it once more.

“You like it… you like it, too.” you smile, thinking back to what he’d asked you moments ago. He smirks against your lips, kissing you again before looking down at his length as he attempts to guide it into your heat.

“That’s right.” he nods, licking his lips. “’n it feels the best when you ride me… so sit on it.” he commands. He clenches his teeth as his tip sits comfortably in your sticky interior. You’re so tight and wrap around him so heavenly. As though you’re made solely for him. In his mind, though, that’s exactly what you are. He hisses, eagerly, as he feels the conflicting constrict of your cunt tightening and releasing repeatedly as he remains there. It’s like you aren’t sure if you’re trying to suck him in further or push him out completely.

His fingers curl around your dainty wrist, guiding your hand to his neck and encouraging you to squeeze. You do, softly, and you can’t help but smile when he laughs breathily.

“Sit on it, princess. S’all yours.”

The squeeze becomes tighter as you slowly sink on his length. Your jaw drops willingly as you moan through the stretch. And Rin, God, he’s fucking beautiful. His eyes roll over white as your pussy envelops him until you feel his pretty tip nudge your g-spot. You kiss his cheek. Again, and again and again until his vision returns to you.

He likes it. No, he loves it. But only because it’s you. He’s been with plenty of women, but he’s never been in love. He’s had feelings for partners, but never love. He can’t imagine letting any of them choke him the way you do. It makes him heady, but only because it’s you. The first time you did it he wanted to protest, to tell you in no uncertain terms that he isn’t interested in that kind of thing. But the word no could barely escape his lips before he came inside you after you squeezed the sides of his neck oh so deliciously.

“F-uck, Rinnie…” you moan as you start to rock your hips against him. His hands gently hold your waist and help you in your efforts, your breath catching in your throat as your clit catches against his pubis and trimmed hairs. “You’re s-so deep. Feel you h-here…” you point to your lower abdomen as you carry on rocking against him, your grip on his neck easing as you feel pleasure begin to surge through your nervous system.

He's speechless, though. He knows he’s big and doesn’t feel a need to reiterate it. Instead, he pushes his palm flat against your tummy as you continue to get yourself off. You moan, louder. Drool forming in the corner of your mouth as you keep going and going until your legs begin to give. And he pities you, he does. So much so that he holds your hips tightly and helps you rise and fall on the full length of his cock again and again.

Each impale is rapturous. The pleasure is fucking blinding as his heavy tip slams repeatedly against your sensitive soft insides and you mewl blaringly, no care or consideration for neighbours that might be trying to get a full eight hours before that dreaded sunrise approaches any minute now. You can’t possibly care, not when a cock so perfectly made to mould the shape and ridges of your pussy to suit it’s domineering size is ruining you so divinely.

“Don’t stop.” he reminds you, his hand covering and squeezing your own around his willing neck, encouraging you to persevere. The way your clutching fingers hug the column of his throat is beauty personified. Like a scene from a renaissance painting before your very eyes. And his eyes are blown to hell, full of lust, “harder.” he smirks, greedily. And you always do as you’re told. You want to be good for him after being so cruel. You want to please him after being so cold. You want to love him after being so harsh.

“I—” you start, your words becoming trapped in your throat as your cowardice springs to the forefront of your mind. Though, is it really cowardice? Or is it just the right decision for both of you? For peace of mind and an easy life, it is.

“Yeah?” his eyes practically glitter in expectation as he awaits your sentence to be brought to completion. You are cruel, cold and harsh. Because you’ve gotten his hopes up yet again. And you can’t have that, you just can’t.

“I’m, c-close…” you alert him. His eyes widen in surprise. It hasn’t been so long since you started. Are you lying? He can usually tell. He studies your face and feels the way your cunt constricts around his length as you draw near your demise. You’re honest, only sometimes.

“N-N.. uh… can you hold it? F-For me, princess?” he asks, pleads, really, if his watery eyes are anything to go by. You aren’t sure you can, but you nod anyway. You’ll try your damndest, for him, anything for him.

He manoeuvres you carefully onto your back so you’re lying beneath him. You remain wrapped around him the entire time, like he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a second. You can’t blame him, either, you don’t want to remember what life feels like without him snug inside of your welcoming cunt.

His eyes roam your body as he cages you in below him. Emerald jewels taking in each and every inch of your perfectly bare skin. Every detail, every crevice and pore. It’s all so beautiful to him, and hasn’t become a boring sight to behold in the entire two years you’ve been doing this.

Both of your hands cradle his head, fingers interlocking through the back of his hair. He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but smile. This is how your life should be. When you see how much love pours from his eyes as he looks at you, you know this is how things are meant to be. But it’s a shame, they aren’t. You feel your heart break in two as reality crashes around you once again. But he leans down to kiss you, silently asking your permission to keep going.

“Please, Rin.” you nod.

“Okay, I’ve got you.” he kisses your neck as he begins to shallowly thrust into you again. You mewl softly as you feel him suckle the skin covering your clavicle, and it’s sure to bruise, but you don’t care. You’re sick of caring, now. You just want to feel this. Enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy Rin.

He pushes your thighs gently, spurring you to wrap your legs around his hips in a bid for you to hug him tightly. You hook your feet against one another, and you feel like a koala clinging onto a tree. You don’t mind though. You feel safe, like this. A safety you’ve never felt from anyone at any time. He’ll keep you safe, always, because he loves you. All he wants in this moment is for you to feel good and for him to be the reason. You cock your head, curiously. And he wastes no time satiating your lust with a kiss.

Your moans feel suffocating as your throat swells with the desperate need to share them with him. But you can’t. Not when he’s pressing his lips to yours and trying to inhale your every breath and any other offering you can muster for him. He can’t let you go for even a second, he thinks. This is all he has. He needs to remember.

He looks upset when you turn your head to break the kiss, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. They slow, however. Opting to fuck you deeper. He wants to explore depths in your cute cunt that neither of you know even existed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice quiet but laced with concern. It’s hard to even think as his thrusts seem to be whisking your brain into a pink mushy paste.

“I can’t—” you pant, “hold it… m-much longer!” you warn him.

“Oh.” he chuckles, and burrows his head into the crook of your neck. He kisses. Sucks. Makes it known that you’ve been with him. A final bid to make you his, though it will surely amount to nothing. “That’s okay, let go, baby…” he tells you.

You bite your lip. A momentary gesture before you find your pleasure crescendo from his faithful pace. He kisses sweetly along your jawline, humping into you hard enough that there is a steady slapping resounding through the bedroom. You note how the sun seems to rise and birds begin to chirp as you topple over the edge of your orgasm.

He could bathe in your sweet moans for the rest of his life, he thinks. They seem to harmonise with the birds singing outside. Your fingers dig and claw into his shoulder blades as you don’t let up. It’s all so tantalizing, a song he’d happily play on repeat for the rest of his miserable life if he could.

You clamp around him and feel a swell of pride in your chest as you hear him moan for you, too. Your cunt floods with warmth and you’ve never felt so wanted. Part of him wishes you weren’t on birth control. Part of him wishes that it would fail so that there’s a reason he can truly make you his. But he knows he isn’t that lucky. And he knows it’s wrong to want those things, too. He doesn’t even want a kid, really.

He just wants a reason to keep you.

Your chest heaves as he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely. You fear that your sweaty bodies may meld together permanently, until the breeze from the open window rolls in. Cooling your dampened skin slowly but surely. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, though. Being stuck to him. There’s always fantastical ideas conjured from absurd imaginations that give you cause to be together. It’s the only way, you think.

It can’t be as simple as you want to be together.

You can’t just love each other so much you can be together.

You need a reason.

A very good fucking reason.

“Are we going to be okay, Rinnie? Things haven’t changed, right?” you ask him, almost scared to speak but not enough to stop the flow of your words. You feel his body tense up, and at that point you know things have indeed changed. But change can be good… you might just be delusional, though.

“I’m going to shower.” he says, coldly, peeling his body from yours. And it stings. He couldn’t give you an answer, and you know that translates to him only having an answer you won’t like. He’s cruel, mostly, but never with you. With other people he can be rude and mean. But he’d rather be silent than do that to you. And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. It’s all such a mess and everything is fucking ruined. “… are you coming?” he asks, looking back at you as he heads towards the bathroom.

And there it is.

The flame of hope he can never truly let die when it comes to you.

Your eyes flicker open, the room fully bathed in the light of the mid-morning sun. Rin is sitting at the edge of his bed. Legs covered by grey joggers and his torso bare. The shadows and light contrasting each other and painting an alluring portrait of toned musculature across his back. He shields it from you, though, as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

He stands up, collecting the towel he dropped on the floor as he got changed. And that’s when he sees you’re finally awake again. He curses himself when he smiles at you, still unable to believe how easily you can make him do so.

“How was your nap?” he asks, calmly, tossing the towel expertly into his laundry bin.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep…” you admit.

Though you do remember cuddling into his side after your shower. Your towel is loose around your body, the one wrapped around your hair is crumpled up atop your pillows. He didn’t sleep a wink, he savoured the feeling of you clinging onto him like you might actually love him. But his mind was also plagued by the future. About what happens next. He doesn’t get nervous, usually. But now, as he looks at you in your most natural form, he’s legitimately scared. Scared of everything crashing down around him.

“I… your clothes.” he tilts his head, gesturing to the folded clothes on your bedside cabinet. You thank him, quickly, dropping your towel and hurriedly getting into your jeans and tank top you wore over here in the middle of the night. “I want to be with you, properly.” Rin confesses, focusing intently on his hands before daring to look up to you. Your expression is sullen, unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected to hear him say something so bold, not after what you said to him earlier. But you suppose he’s had time to think.

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, Rin.” you sigh, shaking your fingers through your still damp hair. Little droplets flying to the wood floor below.

“I want you to tell the truth… I know you love me. I know you’re just scared. I know you want to be with me, too. I don’t get why you’re doing this. I don’t know why you’re punishing yourself… or me.” he approaches you, walking around the bottom of the bed and grabbing your shoulders with fervour as he wills you to be honest for the first time in your life.

“No.” you shake your head and move away from him. “It isn’t right, you know it isn’t.”

“It’s not right? I’ve loved you for two years and you’re telling me that’s wrong? And I know you feel the fucking same, so please, please baby—”

“I have to go, I can’t do this.” you feel fresh tears roll down your face as you begin to search for your purse. You feel like your fucking heart is going to explode. And he doesn’t bother hiding his upset, either. Because he’s made up his mind.

“This was goodbye, then.” he informs you, and your movements halt as you look at him.

“What?”

“I’m not being this… joke. I’m not going to be your shoulder to cry on when you’re lonely. I’m not going to fuck you, you can’t just come here when you feel like it. I’m done, I can’t do it.” he takes a deep breath as he finishes, knowing that this is really over. It’s killing him. “I love you, and it hurts. This really hurts. But you’re not the girl I thought you were. I thought you were kind and I know you love me too and that’s why it’s fucking— I feel like I’m dying. I don’t get why you’re denying yourself of this.”

You sigh, slipping your feet into your white slides and trying to fight back tears. He thinks everything is so simple. He thinks you can both just live a fairy tale life and be happy, but that isn’t realistic. He isn’t being realistic and maybe that’s your fault. You thought you’d been clear about what this is between you. You hadn’t intended to make him feel used. You didn’t want to hurt him and you didn’t want things to end like this.

“Okay.” you shrug, fingers grasping the door handle as you prepare to leave.

“What’s so fucking special about Sae?” he sobs, quietly. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart is already breaking and you know looking at his defeated face will give your vital organ cause to split into quarters. “As kids, he was always better at football. He’s older, he’s the favourite. But he doesn’t even treat you right, he doesn’t love you. I do, I love you so what’s so special about him, princess?” he drops his weight onto the bed below, sitting on the edge again as he wills you to face him. His stomach ravaged by butterflies as he waits for an answer. Any kind of answer that will give him some clarity.

“Nothing’s special about him, Rin…” you sigh, again, giving into his desire and offering him the eye contact he craved. “I just met him two years and a few days before I met you.” you sniffle loudly before hurrying out of the door, slamming it behind you unintentionally as you run to the elevator.

He lets his head fall into his hands as he begins to bawl. The knowledge finally setting in that this is really the end of this chapter of his life. The story of you and him is complete and the ending is fucking devastating. He rests his head against the wet pillows you’d left in such a hurry. The scent of your lotions and perfume still clinging to them. And he cries more, covering his face entirely with his hands.

He’ll always lose to Sae, that much is clear.

If only he’d met you first.

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