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urauntiefaye · 3 days ago

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okay but we NEED more taki x chubby reader or maybe &team x chubby reader thoughts (nsfw and sfw) :3333

&Team With a Chubby Girlfriend 🔞+🌸

WC: 2270

TW: Includes Maki so if uncomfortable you can scroll away or not read his, chubby reader, description of the body, afab reader, Talks of body fat, smut, BDSM, nicknames, slapping/spanking, mentions of clothes, not proof read I think that's all let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As a short chubby girl myself this actually healed me in ways I didn't know could. Also added both SFW and NSFW parts in this.

Kei-

SFW: Kei would always hype you up. For example when you're going shopping and buying new clothes you would be cautious of what to buy. Simple because the media and maybe even people in your day to day life always say how you should dress with your body size. Not to mention with the clothing market some clothes are literally just built to only look good on skinny girlies. Especially with shirts and let's say maybe you have a big chest. So you grow cautious of what to wear because of what people would say. But let's say there's a shirt or dress you really want, but it's body fitting. Second guessing yourself you'll put it back on the rack and when going to check out Kei would get confused because you looked really good on it and he knew that you really liked it. When you tell him why you didn't get it he will go back inside and buy it for you. He'll always tell you how much he loves your body and how beautiful it is, and that you shouldn't feel like you have to hide it.

NSFW: Kei loves to slap you, not on the face(on the face too but) but your thighs, ass, just anywhere he can get his hands on simply because he loves the way your body reacts to it. I also feel like he's always squeezing your body and praising your body. Always talks about how much he loves your body. He also just fucking loves seeing you in lingerie, the way your body looks in it as it shows off your curves. The way how some parts squeeze into your body and causes parts of it to pucker out. He feels as if he could cum right in the spot just seeing you in it.

Fuma-

SFW: He saw no issue with it honestly. Your body type just didn't cross his mind at first because you're just so beautiful and he loved you so much. So the fact that you may be insecure because the thoughts of why he's with you when he could have a girl with a flat tummy and fit body just never clicked for him. I swear to God though once he finds out about it though he would feel so upset. But not angry at you, but because who the fuck told you your body wasn't beautiful? would pamper you so fucking much and if he EVER saw you eating less because of this he would have a very serious talk with you because wtf.

NSFW: Has such a thing for you when you're wearing dresses that show off your body. Also expect him to use his strength kink against you. He'd want to pick you up and fuck you against the wall. But if you get worried or question his strength thinking you're too heavy for him to pick up. Boooooy oh my FUCKING GOD, he would prove you so fucking wrong. He’d so throw you over his shoulder or quickly pick you up and push you against the wall “think I can't lift you love?” AHHH

Nicholas-

SFW: Loves to hug you and hold your tummy or your thighs. He loves your body so much and he finds you so adorable. He loves to squish your cheeks as well that makes your lips pucker out and will kiss them. He kisses your body all over but in a nonsexual way. Just peppers kisses all over you. You won't ever feel a moment of insecurity when with him. Like if an insecure thought starts to pop up it'll disappear instantly. Also, he's equally if not more pissed off about the fashion industry for catering clothes specifically for skinny people. And if you decide to start making your own clothes he would be so fucking supportive and also impressed.

NSFW: H-hear me out guys 👉🏻👈🏻, Nico is obsesssssssed when you wear skirts and thigh highs. With the thigh highs he just can't stop staring with the way they wrap around your thighs and how the top part sticks out, just the way they're indenting(don't know if this is the right word) into your thighs. He loves fucking you in them too. He'll have you over his laps, ass up as he spanks you and gropes your ass and thighs. He loves seeing the way your body shakes and the fat jiggles. Is also addicted to the sight when he's fingers your so hard and fast that your body moves along with it.

Euijoo-

SFW: Loves having you lay on him or sit on him. Like he just loves your body on him because it makes him feel so soft inside. If you ever tell him that you don't like sitting on him or laying on him because you feel bad with your weight. Thinking you'll crush him or something. Once he hears this he will instantly pull you down on him and won't let you up. His limbs would wrap around you, not letting you go until you take back what you said. Will also smother you in kisses. He loves your body so much and it hurts him when he sees you being insecure about it because he just doesn't understand how such a gorgeous person would be insecure. Really the type to be ‘if only I could leaned you my eyes so you could see how I see you’

NSFW: I've mentioned before that he has to have his hands on you at all times in a previous hard hour thoughts post. But if you're a chubby person it intensifies to an extreme. His hands are groping each and every part of your entire body. He can't help it, he's thinks the way your thighs and stomach jiggle with each of his thrust is so fucking hot. Cums on your stomach as well, he can't help it but the look of how it's all sprayed across your tummy makes him fall in love with you all over again.

Yuma-

SFW: He loves loves loves grabbing your thighs and just squeezing as hard as he can. He also loves slapping your thighs and seeing them jiggle her just can't get over it. At first having an issue with it you wouldn't say anything, as it didn't bother you that much at first. But let's say one day you're just not in the mood and you're feeling a little extra body self cautious. Not knowing this he would go up to you and do his usual with your thighs until you snap. He'd be startled of course but he won't get angry, he'd ask you what's wrong though. When you tell him he'd feel bad, because how could he not know that you felt that way. He'd hold you and tell you he loves you nonetheless and the only reason he does that is because of how much he loves your body.

NSFW: Yuma+BDSM is already canon to me. But Yuma with Chubby reader plus BDSM? *Wipes sweat off my forehead ‘phew’* he's tying you up but he's tying the rope so tight that it's indenting into your flesh. He's also sooo using whips on you because of how your body reacts to it. When he's fucking into you he can't look away either. Just needs to keep his eyes on you at all times but doesn't know where to look. Also if you're a chubby reader with big tits expect titty fucking to be a regular occurrence in your sex life.

Jo-

SFW: Won't say shit at first. Like you'd never know how he felt because he doesn't say anything, but there will be signs. For starters he loves laying on your lap, and if you're insecure he KNOWS. But instead of saying shit he'd send you articles about how in ancient times being chubby was considered beautiful. Even art pieces like statues of Goddesses and paintings of chubby women/plus size women. So you ever start to rethink if he actually does love your body because you don't hear it, you'll need to focus on his actions.

NSFW: THIGH FUCKING, Jo loves to fuck your thighs. Just the way your thick thighs wrap around his cock is intoxicating to him. It's his favorite thing in the world+cumming on your thighs. He also loves receiving nudes from you and loves taking them for you. You laying down in provocative poses showing off your body. Also expect him to have rose petals on you and around you during your little photoshoot. Keeps the photos in a little binder for his eyes only because they're his most prized possessions.

Harua-

SFW: LOVES cuddling with you, just being able to hold you close, his hands taking purchase on your stomach or thighs. He also loves snacking with you, you're his number 1 snack buddy. So when he goes to you with snacks and you refuse he'll low-key get petty but like not in a toxic way. But in a ‘how dare you not want to snack with me, you know this is my favorite part of our days together, and you dare deprive me of such happiness?’ yeah he gets dramatic about it…but if you explain to him it's because you're wanting to lose weight because you're insecure or don't like your body since someone commented on your body. He'll turn serious for like 30 minutes and cup your face and tell you how much he loves your body and you should never want to change it just because someone else said so. But would turn straight to being dramatic once again saying ‘who said it by the way? I'll have a talk with them AND their mother for making my baby feel bad because how DARE THEY”

NSFW: Another thigh fucker enthusiast. Will fuck your thighs in any position, standing up, you laying on your back with your legs up in the air, on your side. Doesn't matter man he just wants to fuck them. Will cum so much on you too because of this. And then he will get hard AGAIN because of the sight. Speaking of cumming, he needs to cover every inch of your body with his cum. He can't get enough of seeing your body just covered in it.

Taki-

SFW: Is borderline obsessed with your stomach. His hands have to always be on it, if they're not then he's resting his head on you. Another number one hype boy with your clothes especially when you choose to show off your body. He's also always telling you how much he loves your body. I swear to God guys. He also loves squishing the fat on your body, especially playing with your stomach and thighs. He can't help it. If you tell him to stop he'll be pouty all day. Literally if there was a challenge where he had to go a whole day without touching you he will literally break out into tears. If you ever get insecure about your body btws be prepared to sit through an hour if not longer PowerPoint on why you should love your body and why he loves your body and how he will literally fuck up anyone who tries to say otherwise. Plays with your cheeks the way others play with his. Y'all the cheek duo.

NSFW: 🥹, hands on your tummy, he's squeezing it, holding it, anything he just loves holding it during sex especially when he's about to cum. He just knows you're going to hold his cum well. He loves squeezing your thighs and slapping them but not harshly in a more like love tap way just enough to get them to jiggle. He's also rotating between holding your thighs/ass to your stomach when eating you out. Wants you to wrap your thick thighs around his head too.

Maki-

SFW: A mixture of Fuma and Kei. Like it's not that he didn't care? But like…it's also because he doesn't care. How do I explain this? You being chubby doesn't matter to him because he loves you and doesn't think it's that big of a deal. He won't make a big deal out of it and thinks it's so fucking weird when people do. He literally side eyes people who make such a big deal out of people who aren't skinny like the ones in magazines. And will get pissed if people decide to bring up your weight. Like if he saw a comment or overhears someone say something about you man's won't fucking HESITATE. Now, even though he won't make a big deal out of it he also just so happens to also subconsciously squeeze your body and slightly jiggle your thighs a little.

NSFW: So, like I said in the SFW portion he doesn't make a big deal out of you being chubby. HOWEVER, he can't help but be so over you when he's horny. Def wants you to sit on his face, he just knows it'll be so hot. But if you're like ‘no, I'd literally crush you’ he would look at you as if you're fucking insane and once you finally do agree to sit on his face oh maaaaan. You'll hesitate a little as you straddle his face not wanting to sit all the way. So he'll grab your hips and pull you down. Because when he says he wants you to sit on his face he means he wants you to SIT on his face. He wants you to suffocate him. He's pulling and tugging and slapping your ass and thighs btws.

#auntiefaye🧚🏻‍♀️#&team hard hours #&team imagines #&team smut #andteam hard hours #andteam smut #&team hard thoughts #andteam hard thoughts

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percabethsong · 14 hours ago

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I just read your warrior Penelope au post and I love how you explained why Penelope would go in his place because Odysseus is missing his leg, genius

Does it still take Penelope ten years to get back home after the Trojan war or is the timeframe shorter/longer? Is her journey back home similar to what happened in the Odyssey? And if so, does Odysseus get suitors at his door wanting his hand in marriage? How would he hold them off while he waits for his wife to get back home?

Sorry for the questions, late night thoughts go brrrrr

Unfortunately, the ten years journey home still happened, although some changes would be made. I think Circe's would be far more trusting of Penelope since she's a woman, although she would still have turned Penelope's crew into pigs, once Circe saw their captain was a woman and they respected her, she let them go easier and doesn't try to seduce her.

Calypso stays pretty much the same, though, it's Greek Mythology, pretty common to feel attraction to more than one gender.

I imagine Penelope, being Ares champion in this AU, may face things a little more upfront than Odysseus would, even though she's also smart and uses cunning sometimes.

The suitors is an interesting questions! I actually thought about this a lot. It depends how accurate things are with Greek Mythology/history. I often see in this AU Odysseus having suitors, which is a fun concept, but since I'm trying to make a version of this AU that would be more possible in universe (hence Penelope having to use her status as an Amazon to convince people she can fight as a woman, since they were some fem warriors in greek myths or general history, but it was difficult for them to gain people's respect), I would say not exactly. Odysseus already has a heir, and Greek Kings can rule without Queens. However, Odysseus is disabled in this concept, and Ancient Greece was a very ableist society. The exception often made were for war wounds, which Odysseus's wouldn't be considered. Odysseus is still very much capable to rule even if he can't fight, he has a sharp mind and Athena stays by his side helping him, which makes Odysseus a great king. However, it's a very hard thing to be respected as a disabled person in this time, even if it was a bit easier if you were nobility. Because he was the king and had a Amazon ruling by his side, people how doubted him kept their complaints to themselves in the beginning. But without Penelope people starting to question him more, especially after she doesn't return with the crew that left for war, making people more relentless. Then a group of men started to appear at the palaces, demanding Odysseus to choose one of them as an advisor and protector, since the queen had not return to fullfil this role. Odyssey not only very much does not need an advisor and protector, but is also aware of the men true intentions: once he chooses one, he'll be killed in a way that looks like an accident and the man he chose will claim the throne, since Telemachus is still too young to be king.

Regarding how Odysseus would hold them off... Hum, that's a interesting questions. I like to imagine he would invent a lot of little challenges for them, claiming he needs to test the skills of his future advisor, both physical and mental. He would come with a new game ever month. I can also picture him saying he would choose a advisor as soon as he finishes an marble sculpture of Penelope himself, without any help to honour his wife. Every night, though, he breaks a little peace of the stone, having to fix it and buying Penelope time. Or at least hold them down enough until Telemachus is ready to be king.

Don't apologise! I've actually never received these kind questions about a post and it made me really happy!

#epic the musical #the odyssey #warrior penelope au #odypen #penelope of ithaca #penelope of sparta #odysseus #telemachus #the suitors #athena and odysseus #warrior!penelope

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bbokicidal · 5 months ago

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Hand Placement - [OT8]

quick summary : where the skz members like to lay their hands on your body during different scenarios.

warnings : suggestive content (18+, MDNI), sexual themes, casual (? ish, ig.) groping

notes : the order of the scenarios goes: casual -> intimate -> sensual so the pictures for each member will be placed in that order for visual reference!

if you like my content and want to see more, be sure to follow & reblog!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ bangchan

casual - he can't help it, if he's honest. he knows that actions speak louder than words, and when you're stubborn enough to deny the beauty he tells you he sees through his eyes - well, he hopes that the touch of his hand lingering over your jaw will guide you to see yourself the way he does.

intimate - always holding your hand, chan can't deny that he feels a protective nature over you. he can't let you get lost - can't fight the panic he finds filling his chest when his fingers aren't laced with yours. so do him a favor and just hold on tight, yeah?

sensual - having the need to constantly be using his hands, chan likes to knead that plush of your thighs any chance he gets - and the feeling of the warmth under his fingertips is all the more alluring when you're sitting above him rocking your hips down against his hardening cock.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ lee know

casual - never one to hurt you, his grip is always gentle when he grabs hold of your wrist. it's a subtle but sure way to make sure you drop the bratty, teasing nature that riles him up all too quickly - and it's a surefire way to get jisung giggling off to the side at your antics.

intimate - he isn't sure when his love for resting his hand on your lower back appeared, but minho adores getting to hold onto you in such a soft way. it's - again - subtle, but his gesture and guide is firm as he brings you to walk in front of him or lures you away from the counter so he can step forward and pay.

sensual - call him sappy - maybe even a bit romantic - but minho needs to feel your hand in his when he's making love to you. both so he knows you're present and with him in that moment, but also to keep you grounded when he's kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. <3

₊‧°��♡𐑂°‧₊ changbin

casual - bin loves the feeling of having you in his arms. he can't resist the urge to hug onto you most times - use to being the clingier one in the group and loving that you'll accept his affection with no questions asked.

intimate - and since we're on the topic, who doesn't want a hug with bin's big strong arms wrapped around them? better yet, who doesn't want a strong hug from behind while also getting to play with his fingers and rings? he'll chat away with the others, swaying carefully back and forth with you huddled nice and close, twisting his rings and pulling at his bracelets.

sensual - having a thing for - what do we call it, grabbing? we've seen him do it with seungmin multiple times and you'd be wrong if you think he won't do it to you as well. at first it's gentle caresses along the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss - but once he's comfortable enough and knows what you like, he'll grab you by the throat, dragging you to him to steal a kiss before guiding you to your knees so you can take his awaiting cock in your pretty little mouth.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ hyunjin

casual - thinking it's more funny than anything, hyunjin developed a habit of pressing a hand over your mouth when you got snappy towards other members, namely being minho. because he knew for a fact that you would also get the airfryer-tissue treatment as soon as minho got out of his seat.

intimate - call him romantic, call him a sucker. hyunjin can't get enough of the warmth your body offers him, hands sliding under your shirt when you kiss him so he can squeeze at the softness of your sides and maybe, if he's feeling frisky, trail his fingertips up a bit higher.

sensual - call him a whore. if you're alone together, or you're in the group and everyone's been drinking a bit so he's what we'll call 'loose' in this situation - he's resting a hand right over your center. whether you're wearing pants, shorts, a dress, or nothing at all - he's always got his hand loitering there. maybe even rubbing small circles with his fingertips.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ han

casual - jisung is... a sweetheart when it comes to your body. his favorite thing to do no matter where you are, how many people are around, what time of day it is - is play with your hair. he loves the feeling of running his fingers through it and getting to twist it into fun hairstyles. he'll do his best not to rat it up, though.

intimate - his hand being in your back pocket is something he could put on his hobby - because that's a full-time job for him. you're standing beside him? hand in your pocket. you're sitting in his lap? hand under your ass in your pocket. you're standing in front of him in line? whoop - hand in your pocket. maybe squeezing here and there, too.

sensual - did you see this one coming? han jisung is an ass man and i will stand by my word. any time you're alone he's always, always, always touching the tooshie. he'll slide his hands over the soft skin and dig his fingertips in as much as he can while you're in his lap, his lips attached to your throat to muffle his groans. he gets more pleasure out of it than you do, i'd assume.~

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ felix

casual - ever the sweetheart and gentleman, felix does his best to keep his hands to himself with you in public. but if you're more comfortable and don't mind him holding onto you or being affectionate, he'll often times find himself holding onto your hands or bringing you closer so that you can hold onto his arm.

intimate - it's common this appears at awards shows - felix enjoys showing you off. his hand is consistently resting on your hip, gentle but firm in nature and not necessarily guiding you but moreso just resting there so that people get the hint. you're taken, and he's proud to be your boyfriend. (all days of the week, but when you look this gorgeous? he's bound to adore you just a tad bit more, pride swelling in his veins.)

sensual - felix's hands commonly rest on your sides during moments together. partially because it gives you stability - and partially because he needs to hold onto you while he stares up at your bouncing form above him, his lips parted and eyes fogged like glass with adoration.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ seungmin

casual - seungmin's almost always touching you more than he is the others. he'll nudge you with his hip to get you out of his way (playfully, of course) or give you a shove when you're being bratty - even though he's the exact same way. nuisances, i swear. <3

intimate - it's subtle, and soft. but seungmin has a love for linking his pinky with yours, letting his thumb rub over the back of your hand while you sit beside each other. there's no looks or words exchanged - just brief, sweet, quiet moments filled with a dull hum of love.

sensual - contrary to everything i just said, he's a grabber. grabbing your thighs, your hands, your sides - your hair. he has a love for holding your hair back for you while you swallow around his cock, or pulling on it to make you look back at him when he drills into you from behind so hard it almost hurts.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ jeongin

casual - there's little to no casual contact with jeongin, simply because skinship isn't his thing. he'll hold your hand or arms here or there in passing, but it isn't often he'll be affectionate with you in public.

intimate - when he is feeling softer, feeling safer when he's alone with you and out of the teasing eyes of his hyungs - jeongin likes to cup your face in his hands. he mentally huffs out a laugh at the way his palms seem to envelope your cheeks completely, but on the outside he's just gazing at you, smitten and soft and falling apart just by the simplest touch.

sensual - his hands tend to wander. they'll caress over every curve of your body when you're splayed on the sheets for him, so willing and wanting and ready for what he has to offer - but they travel along your back most often. you think he just has a want to feel the way your back arches away from his touch, chasing the warmth of his body and writhing with pleasure all because of him.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #skz imagine #stray kids imagines #leeknow x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix x reader #han x reader #in x reader #seungmin x reader #skz smut #skz smut imagine #skz scenario #skz imagines #stray kids smut

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

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𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚜

Tara had convinced you to buy some lingerie to wear for your man as a little ‘just because’ gift, but he walked in on you trying it on. Is he getting his gift early? A/N: ‼️MDNI‼️I'd give all of them their gift early no questions asked. [Requested by: tamaki-simp]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[SFW]

utterly captivated seeing you in lingerie

shocked stock still doesn’t move an inch until you yell at him “Zayne!” ”Im sorry I-i’ll be out here”

is completely flustered when you stop him and ask him how you look “Well … what do you think?”

speechless at how good you look

“this was supposed to be a surprise, but you already saw it now” “…..” still speechless with hearts in his eyes

so stunned that he starts talking about irrelevant matters “You should lock your door its safer” “I noticed you have a few dishes still in your sink” “Your carpet could use a good vacuuming”

“Do you think I look weird?” “You look perfect my love”

once you can get him to focus he’s flustered showering you in compliments

although you're dressed in little to nothing he still focuses on your face while he praises you “You look ravishing my love” “You look stunning in anything that you wear”

kisses your knuckles before giving you another once over

subtly offers to buy you more

[NSFW]

his composure was already hanging on by a thread so when you kissed him as a thank you his mind went blank

picks you up by the waist and has a seat on the bed; settling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him

he’s gropping your tits immediately

“No no keep it on” when you try to take your bra off

pops one tit out so he can suck on it while he squeezes and gropes the other

reaches down to pull your panties to the side and is shocked to find them crotchless immediately slips in with ease

lays back and pistons his hips up into you while never taking his mouth off your titty

insatiable seeing you in this set that the only time he takes his mouth off your chest is to watch your pussy drip down his dick all while you lazily ride him with shaky legs

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[SFW]

“Is this what you invited me over for?” “You weren’t supposed to see this yet”

stands in the doorway and just admires you from afar

asks you to give him a little twirl once to the left another to the right and one more so he can see it from the back again

is jealous that Tara is the one who talked you into buying it instead of him

“will you buy more if I convince you?”

wants to go shopping with you next time to pick out more of course he'll pay for them

[NSFW]

has you give him one more twirl and stops you when youre backwards so he can slap your ass

“I'd let you do whatever you wanted to me dressed like this” “You already do that no matter what I wear” “yea but the difference is you’d be wearing this”

wants you to dominate him in this outfit

can’t help, but pull your body close to him as he grips your ass

wants you to keep it on the whole time “sit on my face”

“make me beg for it” as he eats it through the panties

lets you think you have all the power until he gets the first orgasm out of you then he’s flipping you on your back so he can see you sprawled out under him with this outfit on

“Raf I have to take these off if you want to put it in” “no you dont”

rips a hole in your panties just so he can slip in with ease

pussydrunk and is feral having you under him dressed like this

buys you crotchless lingerie sets afterwards

not stopping until you’re a double stuffed Twinkie and double iced toaster strudel that needs help walking to the bathroom

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[SFW]

“Did I intrude on you?” keeps his eyes cast downward

is a blushing mess when you tell him to look

“this was supposed to be a surprise” “trust me I'm incredibly surprised"

grabs your hand and spins you to see the full set

“you look gorgeous baby”

can’t help but run his hands up and down your waist

“did you only get one?”

asks what other sets you saw that you wanted so he can go buy them

can’t stop complimenting you to the point he’s rambling

[NSFW]

on his knees for you literally

my boy is trailing kisses down your chest and stomach until he is on his knees kissing and licking your pussy through the panties

once your knees start buckling he tells you to get against the wall, pulls your panties to the side and throws one leg over his shoulder

stares up at you while you cum in his mouth

picks you up and throws you on the bed

has to pop a titty out to suck on while he buries two fingers in you and gropes your other boob

“please let me buy you more of these” he pants as he fumbles with his zipper

ends up accidentally ripping your panties and proceeds to literally tear the entire set off of you “Xav this was expensive!” “I’ll reimburse you and buy you more now lay back”

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[SFW]

“and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore tempting”

not only stares, but circles you as he relishes in the sight before him

“was this the only one you wanted?” “everything was really expensive”

finds your bag and slips his black card in your wallet “shop to your hearts desire next time Princess”

showers you in praises

can’t help but fiddle with the lace “nice”

“you like it? it was supposed to be a surprise gift” he turns you toward a full body mirror and stands behind you hugging your waist “you’re stunning sweetie”

definitely taking you shopping to get more REAL SOON

wants to watch you model multiple sets now

[NSFW]

just looking at you already has his blood racing south you can feel his hard on pressing into your butt

“sweetie may I have my gift early?” he buries his face in your neck kissing and taking soft nips

rubs your pussy as he watches your reactions in the mirror, not letting his lips leave your neck

wants you to watch yourself in the mirror while he fingers you “look at how gorgeous you are”

wraps his other hand around your throat tilting your head back as your back arches making your tits look even better

has you cream (or squirt) on his fingers and sucks your juices off

grabs your wrist when you go to pull your soaked panties off “no keep it on, all of it”

pins you to the wall and hoist you up on his shoulders to eat you out

definitely gonna bend you over in front of the mirror; holding your arms behind your back telling you to keep your eyes on him in the mirror

peels you out of it once it’s significantly covered in his nut and your cream/juices

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nanaslutt · 11 months ago

Text

Bathtime

synopsis: When Uraume informs you about Sukuna's ability to lactate but his disdain for emptying his tits, you know exactly what to do to help

contains: fem reader, you're Sukuna's assistant, true form Sukuna, nipple play, lactation kink, masturbation, dry humping, mention of blood, dirty talk, sexual tension, porn with plot // wc: 6.6k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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

Sukuna had grown quite irritable lately, more so than usual. It had been a few days since he started acting out, and you had no idea how to get closer to him to find out what was wrong. Sukuna wouldn't even let Uraume into his chambers to drop off his food, always making them leave it outside the door. It was a gamble whether he would even eat the food at all.

Sukuna spent the majority of his time locked up in his room, or down the way at a nearby village, blowing off steam. This time when he came back though, he looked worse for wear. His face was in a permanent scowl, his muscles were twitching under his skin, and blood was coating every inch of his body. Not his, but he still looked rough.

"Sukuna let me-" The king bumps his into your smaller body, making you fall back against the wall behind you, your arms reaching back to brace yourself. Uraume stood opposite from you in the room, catching your eyes before they fell to the floor. They kept their hands together in front of them, watching Sukuna's silhouette disappear from their peripheral vision. When the door to his chambers slammed shut, the loud sound echoing through the halls, Uraume let their gaze drift up as they made their way over to you.

"Are you alright?" They asked, brushing the dust off of your kimono. You ignored their question, your eyes latching on the outside of his chamber doors. "What is his problem? He's always grumpy but... this is new." You said, rubbing the ache from the back of your neck. Uraume sighed and placed their hands back together in front of them, putting some distance between the two of you.

"I know you haven't been this close to Sukuna-sama for very long, but this isn't out of character for him at times. There's a reason for it." You looked back over to Uraume, confusion evident on your features as you tilted your head to the side. "He- He doesn't like to acknowledge it, he's stubborn," Uraume said, averting their gaze. Their expression looked conflicted, their nose scrunched as they stared at the floor.

"Acknowledge what?" You asked, prying further. "Sukuna, he-" Uraume paused to clear their throat before they finished, "he lactates." It took a moment for their words to register in your head, but once they did, your jaw dropped. Just when you were about to question them further, they spoke again. "He knows he needs to drain them, but he hates the act of doing so. Which makes him ignore his problem. As a result, as you can imagine, the feeling is quite uncomfortable for him, making him more... grumpy than usual." Uraume explained, using the word you used earlier.

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words before you spoke. "How long do these fits of his last?" You asked Uraume. The white-haired chef looked around at the walls that surrounded them, pondering. "His longest fit was two months. It was excruciating to try and care for him during that time, it always is." Uraume said, sighing. They sounded exhausted.

You wanted to pat them on the back, you didn't know how they dealt with his attitude so well sometimes. "How does he go back to normal?" You ask, fidgeting with the fabric of your kimono absentmindedly as you speak. "All he has to do is relieve himself. He has pumps I keep in the kitchen. If he's ready, he'll come find them." Uraume said, suppressing an eye roll.

You felt bad the chef had to deal with this for decades. Just how many fits of his has he gone through while Uraume was at his side? He probably never thanked them either. You've always looked up to Uraume. They had the kind of elegance and patience you could only dream of achieving someday. You stared at the freshly swept floors of Sukuna's residence. The shiny black tile reflects the light from the chandeliers above you, blinding you.

"I'll take care of it," You said vaguely, determination laced in your tone. Uraume's eyebrows furrowed together as they looked at you quizzically. "I hate to see you get treated so roughly by him all because he refuses to milk his tits." Uraume's eyes went wide, their hand shot up to block their expression from you, hiding the blush that crept up their face from your use of anatomy language for the man.

"You- I don't know if you'll have much luck. He's a stubborn man." Uraume said, sounding like they were dismissing your idea. You were about to try and press them further when they spoke before you. "But if you really want to give it a go, I'll take you to where I keep his pumps." Uraume could swear your eyes shimmered at their words.

You took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the king's quarters, immediately dropping to your knees, the pump tucked away in a bag, slung around your shoulder. "Sukuna-Sama, I ran a bath for you and I-" The door swung open before you could finish your sentence. The door slammed hard against the wall, making you close your eyes, your body tensing reflexively. You saw two sock and sandal-covered feet in your line of sight, making your heart race.

"Let me help you wash up Sukuna." It wasn't uncommon for you to help Skuna in the bath, help him get dressed, other mundane tasks, so your proposal didn't seem out of the blue. You wanted to give your reason for asking, as you usually just assumed you would unless he said otherwise. But you guessed if you had added that you wanted to help him because he seemed like he was having a hard time lately, he would mistake it for pity, and your head would be severed from your body.

Only Sukuna truly knew your worth to him, so he would never do such a thing, but you thought otherwise. Sukuna huffed out a breath before he walked past you and took a sharp left, heading to the bathroom, where you had already drawn him a bath.

You sighed in relief when he turned another corner, now out of your view. You briefly wondered what the hell you were doing. Hands clasped together in front of you, you pushed open the cracked door of the bathroom. You were met with Sukuna's rippling back, covered in now dried blood from his earlier massacre, contrasting nicely against his pale skin. Your eyes dared to travel down further, starting from his heels, up the strong muscles of his calves, and the tight muscles of his as-

Sukuna's glowing red eyes peered at you from over his shoulder, making you swiftly avert your eyes, finding the floor of the bathroom. It was hot in the room as you shut the door behind you, locking yourself in with your king. You couldn't tell if the heat you felt creeping through your body was from the steam around you, or something else.

Splashing of water took you out of your trance and back to the man in front of you as he descended into the tub, the clear fluid overflowing around him, creating a mess on the floor. Swallowing whatever saliva was left in your dry mouth, you walked forward, making sure not to sneak up on him and instead walking around the side of the bath to set your bag on the chair in the corner of the room, a few feet in front of the bath.

You didn't dare to look, but you could feel Sukuna's eyes tracking your every move from the moment you were in his sights. You squeezed your fists into the fabric of the bag, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you tried to ready yourself to turn around and face him.

"You're nervous." Sukuna's deep voice cut through the tense, hot room, creating goosebumps along your flesh. You turned on your heels, making eye contact with him. You tried to ignore the now pinkish color of the skin of his chest in your peripherals, his body warmed by the water around him. "Nonsense, it's just a little hot in here." You explained, making your way towards the tub.

When you reached the side of the bath centered in the room, you reached out to grab the washcloth hanging off the side, half submerged in the water. Sukuna's hand gripped your wrist entirely, his stronghold keeping you in your place. you didn't dare to even breathe. "Lie to me again, you won't like the consequences." You tried to keep your breathing steady as your eyes traced the rippled in the water around his knee.

You nodded, still averting your gaze. The only thing you could hear was how intense your heartbeat sounded in your ears. His touch had been so unexpected. If you weren't nervous before, you certainly were now. Sukuna squeezed your small wrist, cutting off your blood flow entirely for a moment, your hand throbbing at the loss of it. You could feel his eyes cutting daggers through the side of your face. Finally, he released you, placing his heavy hand back along the side of the tub.

You took the washcloth in your hand and walked around the tub until you were met with his wide back. You took deep breaths behind him, trying to steady your racing heart now that you were out of his sight at least. Unfolding the washcloth, already hot and damp with water, you reached out and placed it against Sukuna's skin, not missing the way his muscles contracted under your touch.

Taking care of Sukuna relaxed you, you felt most at a place like this. Your eyes traced the markings on his skin as you rubbed the dried blood from his body, collecting it on the washcloth. You leaned down to your side, crouching a bit as you dipped the rag in a smaller bucket of water, cleaning the blood off of it before you went in again. The water turned a pinkish color from the first wipe.

"Relax Sukuna, you did a lot of work today." You said, trying to ease him as you rubbed the rag over his shoulders, your other hand holding atop his other shoulder. Sukuna all but grunted at your words, his eyes darting around in front of him, trying to find something worthy of stimulating his vision. Your body relaxed from his tame reaction, the hot water must be doing wonders on his chest. You decided to push your luck.

Moving to the side of him, you brought the rag over his shoulder and around his collarbones, ridding him of the crimson blood there. The water was a big moggy from the blood that had coated the rest of his body, making it hard to see into the water. You could only see blurry shots of his body parts when you dipped the rag into the water.

Sukuna was watching you again, and this time you hadn't noticed. You were too focused on your job at hand, that you failed to notice the piercing red eyes tracking you. You leaned over the tub slightly, reaching the blood that stained his other collarbone. Sukuna was exhausted. The hot water bordering on boiling his skin combined with your soft touch was lulling him away into a calmer headspace.

His chest ached, the feeling standing out like a sore thumb compared to how relaxed the rest of his body was. You noticed his hand on the tub opposite from you had relaxed, his arm now just resting along the side instead of gripping it. You peeked your eyes over at his neck, looking at his face through the corners of your eyes. Sukuna's breathing was even, and his face was still, his eyes shut. You knew he wasn't completely unguarded, he never was, but he was relaxing.

You dipped your hand into the hot water of his tub, your gaze finding his hard chest as you rang out the towel. You couldn't tell if his nipples were red from the hot water, or from his little predicament. Seeing as how his chest was above water though, you could make an educated guess.

It looked so swollen. Sukuna's muscles were impressive, yes, but you were extremely familiar with his body, and his chest was larger than before. He had kept you away from him for almost a week, so you had failed to notice it before. The skin of his chest looked taut and almost stretched. You placed the rag just above his chest, your eyes finding his face to check if he noticed or felt anything displeasing.

When he gave you no reaction, you dragged the rag down his chest, maybe pressing a little too hard as you went down, but you were determined to ease his ache. You only made it about halfway down his chest before you were being restrained again. This time, Sukuna was more dramatic.

He shot up from the tub, the water reaching about his knees as he kept a strong hold on your arm, distancing you from his chest. Your heart had started racing again, this level of stress seriously couldn't be good for your health. Sukuna's lip twitched in disdain, his eyes sharp and pointed as he glared at you, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth.

You forced yourself to speak, "S-sukuna are you alright?" You asked, feigning ignorance the best you could with how in shock you were from his abrupt actions. Sukuna's breathing stayed quick, his gaze angry. He looked as if he was trying to see if you were being honest, if your words were genuine. More time went by, and his nails digging into your skin hurt you more than you cared to admit. Your arm throbbing where he grabbed you.

"Not. Not there." Sukuna said, sucking in a deep breath. You stayed quiet, mustering a confused look on your face. "My pecs. Do not touch them." He clarified, seeing as how you didn't understand his words the first time. You nodded quickly, keeping your lips firmly shut. It was only then that you realized you were face to face with his crotch.

Sukuna had been naked in front of you countless times, but that doesn't mean you got any more used to it. You've never fully got a glance at his... down there, always stopping yourself from leaning into your desires and looking at him. For some reason in this atmosphere, you wanted to look so bad. More so than you ever have before. You were usually good at curbing your arousal for the king, but it was growing harder and harder the more time you spent with him.

Sukuna squinted his eyes at you before he crouched back down, two of his hands grabbing the sides of the tub as he descended back down, his face now coming more level with your own. You softly pulled back against his hand, reminding him he needed to let you go.

He obeyed seconds later, his eyes staying locked on your face the whole time. Dipping the rag in the water, you swirled it around, pretending you were cleaning it off good before you spoke. "Sukuna-sama, may I ask you something?" You said softly, not wanting to irritate him further. Sukuna stayed silent. Your eyes found his when he failed to answer, that's when you noticed the curt nod he gave you.

Looking back at the rag, you rang it out with two hands, the water droplets creating rings on the surface. "Forgive me for asking, but why am I not allowed to wash you there?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you spoke, trying to give him the impression you really didn't know his situation. "You're... there's still blood on your chest." You added.

Sukuna's eyes stayed locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his features. "The water will wash it away." He responded, ignoring your question. You returned his words with a short nod of understanding. You knew better than to expect Sukuna to admit to you he was in pain. He wouldn't even admit it to himself.

You dragged the washcloth along the side of his torso, along his ribs just under his arm. Sukuna's lip twitched, the pressure from his chest extended to the side of his pecs as well, making your touch irritable, but Sukuna was able to control his reaction, miraculously.

You noticed the water shift with him as he pushed his hips forward, sliding down into the water more as you scrubbed his body clean of the blood. "Would you like me to abstain from touching you here too?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his chest instead of his face when you asked the question. "If I don't want you touching me somewhere, you will know," Sukuna said, his eyes squinting at you as he spoke.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh. More like a soft breath of air passing through your nose, but the small smile on your face made the sound have a direct correlation. You corrected yourself immediately, clearing your throat you distanced yourself from his body a bit and dipped the towel back into the water.

Walking around the other side of the tub, going behind him to escape his gaze for a moment, you started cleaning the blood off of his left side. You pressed your fingers along the sides of his ribs, making small circle motions almost at the end of his pec, giving him small relief through the discomfort. Sukuna was now staring at the ceiling, his jaw bulging under the weight of his teeth each time you pressed against the side of his sore pec.

Just when you were about to move on to another part of him, as you were dragging your hand away from the underside of his chest, a small white drop of fluid dripped down his chest and met with the water below him, right next to your hand. You froze in place, watching how the milky color faded into the crimson water, becoming the same shade.

You peeked your eyes up and noticed Sukuna was still looking away, meaning you could investigate a little. Biting your lip, you repeated the same action, rubbing right under his chest. This time though, you kept your eyes on his red nipples, as you had a pretty strong indication of what had happened, and you didn't want to miss it this time.

As you pressed against him, sure enough, another white droplet dripped down his chest, following the same trail as the last. The small droplet left an off-white streak along his pale skin. You pressed your thighs together, you had no idea the sight would be so erotic. Hell, you were starting to think you were going to be unsuccessful in your endeavors with getting to relieve Sukuna.

While you were ogling his tits and subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to diminish the heat that was forming between your legs, Sukuna had dropped his eyes on you. You were foolish to think he wouldn't feel himself lactating, and especially stupid if you didnt think he wouldn't pick up on how you repeatedly rubbed him in the same spot.

Sukuna watched carefully as milk spilled from his chest, your watchful, lidded eyes not missing a single second of it. "Are you having fun?" His voice echoed in the hot room, making your hair stand on edge at the sound. You swallowed hard, slowly retreating your hand away from him. You let your eyes trace his tattooed skin up and up and up, until you were met with his face, which looked almost amused.

"You planned to do this all along didn't you?" He accused, making your eyebrows shoot up in shock. You distanced yourself, dropping the rag in the tub with him as you waved your hands in front of yourself. "N-no Sukuna, I just- I noticed it just now." You explained, looking anywhere but his face. "I put the pieces together just now. Y-you told me not to touch your t-" You quickly corrected yourself, about to use an extremely inappropriate word to describe your boss's pecs.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. "-Chest, and when I saw the liquid just now I-" "What did I say about lying?" Sukuna interrupted, making you find his eyes swiftly. You furrowed your eyebrows together, a drop of sweat sliding down your face. "Do you think I wouldn't hear you talking to Uraume in the hall? You were a mere ten feet away from my quarters, you think my hearing is so inefficient?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, your jaw falling open in tandem, you were going to die here. "Looks like I wasn't hearing things then," Sukuna smirked, your reaction giving everything away. Your skin was vibrating, and the heat you felt between your legs was gone in an instant, only fear remained inside of you.

Sukuna smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked you up and down. "Well? Aren't you going to defend yourself?" He asked, a smug look on his face.

You decided it was now or never, he was already for sure going to kill you. Might as well fess up. "I- if you knew, why did you let me go when I touched your chest the first time? Surely you knew my intentions." You asked, keeping your distance. Sukuna's smile grew, smile lines forming around it. "It's fun to tease you." He said shamelessly like the sadist he is. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

"Uraume tried to talk me out of it. If you're going to take this out on anyone, take it out on me. I couldn't stand seeing you treat them so harshly, so I took your pumps and ran you a bath, hoping I would be able to relieve you somehow." You blabbed, keeping your hands firmly in front of yourself. Sukuna clicked his tongue in his mouth, his eyes having a darker look in them after your confession.

"I half-assed ambush." He responded. "Just how did you think you were going to get those horrid things on my chest without me noticing? Hm?" Sukuna asked, his tone becoming harsher when he spoke of the pumps. You took in a deep breath and turned your head to the side, looking at your bag which had the pumps tucked away.

"Worst case I was going to ask you straight up and see if you cut my head off or not." You replied. Sukuna laughed at how casually you spoke to him, you must really think you were going to die. "But you surmised deceiving me would be better than being direct?" Sukuna challenged, his eyes giving you a one-over while you weren't looking.

The atmosphere had gotten hot again. The heat started returning to your body the longer you stayed alive. Why hadn't he taken your life yet? You looked back to him and nodded, not giving him any more of your reasons, you had spoken enough. Sukuna dropped his hand back down along the side of the tub and tipped his head back, his slanted eyes staring at you from behind his bottom lashes.

"Ask." He said curtly, his fingers tapping along the side of the tub. You blinked at him, considering his words carefully. After a long beat of silence, you spoke. "Sukuna-Sama, may I help you relieve yourself with the pumps?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his. His toothy grin made you throb under your robe. "No." He replied. You still kept your eyes on him, challenging him.

"Ask again." He demanded, tipping his head to the side. "Sukuna-Sama." You paused at his name as you figured out the meaning behind his words. His disdain while he spoke about the pumps must mean he didn't want to use them, but what other way was there? Possibly he couldn't mean...

"Can I relieve you?" You asked, leaving out the part about the pumps. Sukuna released a soft laugh, amused and impressed at how quickly you had figured out what he wanted you to ask. "And how will you relieve me?" He pushed further.

The vagueness in his words made you fight the urge to press your thighs together, a fire burning hot between them. "Anyway, you'd like me to, Sukuna." You replied, not even daring to blink as you tested him. Sukuna licked his lips before tipping his head back down, looking at you straight on. "What are you waiting for then?" He challenged, his knees poking out the top of the water spreading to make room for... something, or someone.

You slowly walked up to the tub, your eyes never once leaving his. "Perhaps we should change the water first." You replied, leaning down to the drain on the outside of the tub. Sukuna's hand grabbed the back of your neck firmly as you leaned down, stopping you from moving any further. "That won't be necessary." He replied, pulling you upwards.

"You aren't afraid of a little blood are you?" He teased, one of his eyebrows raising in amusement. You shook your head, placing your hand on his that still held the back of your neck. Sukuna released you, the smile still evident on his face. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. He wanted you to get in the tub with him right? That's why he said that? What if you were interpreting his words wrong? What if-"

"Get it. Keep me waiting for another second and I'm changing my mind." Sukuna's deep voice reverberated through your body, shutting down any insecure thought that popped into your head. He was fibbing, there was no way he could go any longer without having his chest milked, he was so sore but his teasing was the only way to get you to hurry up.

You pulled the bow keeping your robe together undone, the thick fabric falling off of your body, exposing a thinner, white robe underneath. Sukuna felt saliva start to pool in his mouth, he could see the figure of your body almost perfectly now, and he would see it even clearer once you got in the water with him. You kicked the kimono to the side and grabbed the edge of the tub.

You swung your leg over it, dipping it into the blood-stained water. Immediately the temperature made you tense the muscles in your leg as you inhaled a sharp breath. "There you go." Sukuna said softly, his large hand grabbing your thigh, pulling you into the bath with him. If the atmosphere didnt feel tense and intimate earlier, it sure as hell did now.

You slipped on the bottom of the tub when your foot reached the bottom, your kimono getting drenched with the water around you, making the fabric sheer as you reached out and Grabbed Sukuna's shoulders, bracing yourself. Sukuna tsked, blinking away the water that had splashed in his eye before your waist was being grabbed with two hands and you were pulled into the water, your thighs straddling his pelvis, just above his...

"Didn't know you could be so clumsy." Sukuna teased, making your face turn bright red as you retracted your hands from his shoulders, sitting back. He kept a strong hold on your waist, keeping you against him. "I wonder what else you're hiding from me." Sukuna purred, tiping his head at you. You swallowed hard before looking down at his chest, swollen and irritated.

It felt like millions of little needles were pricking your skin from the heat, but the sight of Sukuna's chest in front of you distracted you enough for the pain to not feel unbearable. "How- how do I go about..." You stuttered softly, fidgeting with your hands in front of you. "Ask your question in a way I can understand. You aren't a child." Sukuna retorted, making you scrunch your eyebrows together in embarrassment.

His glowing eyes on you didnt help how nervous you were feeling. "The liquid that came out of them earlier, what was it?" You asked, backtracking to make sure you knew exactly what you were dealing with. Sukuna looked unimpressed, staring at you like you were dumb. "What do you think? Surely you can't be that dense," he responded. You felt the vein in your head throb, was he incapable of answering a question straight on?

You were hesitant to ask your next question. How you should get the milk out. Usually, mothers would breastfeed or use a pump to get the milk out, was it really the same for Sukuna? "Why do you produce... milk?" You asked, reaching out slowly before softly placing your hands on his chest with featherlight pressure.

"I'm not a mother if that's what you're asking," Sukuna said, a hint of humor behind his deadpanned answer. You didn't even know he was capable of making jokes. "Of course not." You responded, softly squeezing his chest, resulting in a long inhale from the man underneath you, his nails digging into your waist.

Sukuna's eyes fell to your chest, which was not soaked with the water and sheer. Unfortunately for him, you were wearing a bra, but the sight of it through your now-see-through clothes was a treat nonetheless. "Just do what you feel is right." He answered your unspoken question, his eyes lazily sliding back up to find yours.

With a nod, your eyes left him and dropped down to his tatted chest. You unknowingly wiggled on his lap before you groped his chest harder, resulting in Sukuna rolling his head to the side. You pressed the tight muscles together, rubbing his chest in circles, trying to increase his blood flow there. Sukuna's eyes shut halfway at the painfully pleasureful.

You worked your hands from the outside of his chest inward until you reached his nipples. You felt yourself throb between the legs repeatedly, the pace almost matching that of your heartbeat. You had no idea how worked up this would make you. Sukuna winced, almost unnoticeably, when you squeezed your hands right around his nipples, a white stream trickling down his chest.

You wanted to apologize, but once again didnt want him to feel self-conscious about feeling the pain. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his lip twitching at the feeling of his tits being milked bringing him relief in more ways than one. His cock had been hard from the moment you had started bathing him, his teasing and your facade of not knowing what you were doing to him only riled him up more.

The pressure of your hands stimulating his irritated chest outweighed the pleasure with the discomfort, leading Sukuna to grip your waist harder and groan. "Use your mouth, this method is insufficient." He growled, his voice coming out more hoarse than before.

He wanted you to... suck his nipples? You knew better than to ask any follow-up questions, Sukuna was clearly irritated enough. He was at his breaking point. You squeezed your thighs around his torso, trying to press your clit against his lower tummy to bring yourself some relief, completely forgetting that his body was a part of him and he could feel everything you were doing.

Sukuna stayed silent about your arousal for now. With a soft nod, you leaned forward and latched your lips around his nipple, waiting a brief moment to gather yourself before you sucked. Sukuna immediately groaned, and you made a noise of surprise as his milk flooded your mouth, the taste of it sweeter than you imagined.

Sukuna's hand pressed firmly against the back of your head, his low groans filling the bathroom as you sucked harder, your tongue lapping over his nipple occasionally, soothing the bud. Sukuna groaned through his teeth, his head tipping back as he relished in the feeling of his chest being milked.

Countless times he's had to relieve himself with the pump, and never once has it ever felt like this. Sukuna's cock twitched repeatedly with the need for attention each time you suckled around his nipple. "Yeahhhh, yeah this is doin' it." Sukuna groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he looked down at you. You peeked up at him, moaning around his nipple as you did your best to make eye contact with him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Can't tell who this is for with how much yer rubbin' on me." Sukuna teased. He was right, you had been so absorbed in sucking on his chest that you failed to realize you had been steadily humping against his lower abdomen, giving your clit some much-needed friction. You stopped and pulled off of his chest the moment he exposed you, his hand still holding the back of your head.

Milk dripped out from his nipple, running down his chest. "I didn't say you had to stop, did I?" He corrected, raising his eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. "I told you, didn't I? Do what you have to do."

You nodded quickly with a hot face before you leaned down and latched your lips around his other nipple. A loud, long groan was released from Sukuna's longs as you started sucking, some of the milk you were unable to swallow spilling out from your lips and down your chest. Sukuna pulled his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head at the nipple stimulation.

You heard a sloshing sound behind you. At first, you thought it was your body creating the noise now that you were grinding your cunt on his pelvis freely, but you quickly realized it was something much different when you felt his hand repeatedly bumping against your back. Sukuna was jerking off.

"So eager huh?" Sukuna teased, his voice much darker and needier now. Sukuna was wasting no time with teasing himself by taking things slow, your tongue flicking against his nipples made his balls ache with the need to drain them, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Pulling back from his chest you sat up and began tweaking with the swollen buds, making milk leak down them.

Sukuna's hips jolted under yours, making your body jump against him. "Almost there, they're almost empty." Sukuna nodded, his eyes fluttering in their sockets. You weren't sure if he was talking about his situation under the water, or his chest. Nonetheless, you leaned forward and took a nipple back into your mouth again, sucking harder, trying to drain him completely.

Your own humping was thrown off as Sukuna began fucking up into his fist, the tip of his cock poking you in the back each time he did so. The water sloshed around you, spilling out on the floor from the tub. "Uh-huh. uh-huh, keep sucking, keeeeep fucking sucking." Sukuna demanded, his head falling back along with his jaw.

His jerking was sporadic now. You moaned and whined around his nipple, your sounds coming out choppy and high-pitched from the movement of his body under yours. His pelvis was bumping forcefully against your clit, it almost felt like he was fucking you like this. "The other one, suck the other one, do it now." Sukuna groaned, his nails digging against your scalp, leaving a mean tingling sensation against it.

Sukuna's chest felt empty and much less taught than before, the previous throbbing all gone, save for the throbbing of his nipples from the pleasure you were giving him. Your lithe fingers tweaked the nipple you weren't sucking as you obeyed him and switched to the other, only getting small drops on your tongue now. You had truly sucked him dry.

Sukuna's hips lost their rhythm, his body going taught under you as his arm went stiff, doing the best he could to jerk himself up to his high. His jaw fell open further and his eyes rolled back in his head. A long, deep groan was released as he came. Long white ropes of cum shot out from his cock right against your back. He rubbed his tip against your skin while he jerked himself off, working himself through it with your help.

His cum mixed in with the water around him. His balls twitched and clenched as they pushed out every last drop of his cum. Pulling away from Sukuna's nipple you pressed both hands against his now empty chest and started humping against his lower stomach, his hard pelvis muscles rubbing perfectly against your clit, making your head spin.

"Nghhh- S-sukuna-" You cried absentmindedly, resulting in a large hand smacking over your mouth, followed by an amused laugh. "Yeah yeah, get yourself off on me but be quiet about it, don't need anyone else hearin' you cry my name," Sukuna said breathlessly, his hand still holding the base of his now spent cock as he watched you finish yourself off.

His hands around your waist tightened and helped you rub yourself along his muscles when he noticed you were having a little trouble the closer you got. "You gonna cum?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you, a hint of neediness in his voice. You nodded, your moans getting muffled by his hand. "Cum then, I'll help you," Sukuna said, pressing you harder against him, bringing more friction to your sensitive clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling, now only seconds from crashing down into your high as you rubbed your needy pussy on him. Sukuna nodded at you, his jaw falling open in a small o, occasionally cracking into a small smile as he watched your eyes and eyebrows twitch and furrow in tandem.

Your hand left his chest to wrap around his arm at the last second to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you. "There you go." Sukuna drawled, smiling to himself as your body jerked forward and your hips stopped moving on your own. He helped you move against him. Each time your throbbing clit bumped into his lower abs while you came another loud muffled moan was caught behind his hand.

When you tapped repeatedly against his large arm, he loosened his grip on your waist and released your mouth. A string of saliva connected from your lips to his hand, something you would've been embarrassed about if you were in a clearer mindset.

Sukuna pat your ass a few times under the water, trying to coax you back into the real world. "That felt good, huh? Looked like it felt good." Sukuna teased. Your eyes were all out of focus and your chest rose and fell heavily with every deep breath you took. "Don't get sleepy on me now, still gotta clean this mess up."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his audacity. You just drained his tits and came on him and he was already telling you to clean up? "A...A thank you would be nice." You said, wiping your hand over your eyes, getting the sweat off of your face. Sukuna smiled before his hand gripped your chin firmly, shaking your face back and forth.

"I think the cum I spilled was thank you enough." He said snarkily, making you sigh. He laughed at your irritation, glad to see you were coming back. "Have Uraume throw the pumps away when you get finished here." He said, making you tip your head to the side and look at him funny.

"I don't think I'm going to need them anymore."

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sunsturns · 1 month ago

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summary: you can’t sleep without your stuffed animal and matt becomes your second option.

warnings: anxiety/start of an anxiety attack, fluff, “angst” (slight arguing if you squint), reader ATTACHED to this stuffed animal, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mr wrinkleton mention!!!

wc: 1k

𝓨ou walked into matt's room after a very long day, getting ready to fall asleep. he was already in there per usual, under his blankets. he looked at you as you walked in, a soft smile growing across his face. you just wanted to be cuddled up next to him underneath the comforter, with your childhood stuffed animal, lucky.

but when you took a closer look at matt’s bed, the place you last left the faded blue bunny, there was no stuffed animal to be found. that’s when you noticed matt’s bedding was switched out from what it was this morning.

starting to worry, you asked, “matt? where’s lucky?”

“the stuffed animal?” his eyebrows furrowed, not sure if he knew exactly what you were talking about. you’ve told him the name you gave your stuffed animal probably once, so he was hesitant in assuming that was what you were talking about.

“yeah.” your expression dropped, as the missing stuffed animal was starting to settle in your mind. you had no idea where it could be and it was starting to make you anxious. bad things always happened when you didn’t sleep with that stuffed animal, and the thought of that happening tonight, terrified you.

"i was just giving it a quick wash, it should be done tomorrow." he said, hopefully comforting your nerves with his confirmation. but it was somehow the exact opposite happened, your chest started inflating a little too fast, and matt was quick to notice. he shoved the blankets off of him, getting up to meet you where you stood. his hands immediately grabbing ahold of your arms, in attempt to comfort you, calm you down. "im sorry. was i not supposed to?" he asked, severely concerned. he couldn't stand the idea of messing something up that meant so much to you. he didn't think anything of it when he decided to toss it in the wash along with mr. wrinkleton, but he was now hating himself for not taking an extra second or two to think.

you had no answer to his questions, feeling completely overwhelmed with the sudden change you were going to have to deal with tonight. you never slept without that thing, even when with matt. you still found a way to slip it into your nighttime cuddles. suddenly, tears threatened to fall from your eyes as the anxiety started to take over your body. you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight, but you didn’t realize you weren’t going to have to deal with an anxiety attack on top of it.

"hey, sweetheart. it's okay." he pulled you into a comforting hug, soothing out your nerves before they could get to be too much. he brushed his hand over your hair over and over again. it was a constant, familiar feeling and it immediately helped ground you. your face still felt extremely heated, but it felt as though it was slowly fading away. just before matt said, "there's nothing to worry about, okay? he'll be done by the time you wake up tomorrow."

“you don’t understand, matt. i haven’t been able to sleep without him since i was a kid.” you mumbled into his chest.

"wait a minute, him? you've been seeing another guy this whole time?" he accused with a chuckle, obviously trying to make you laugh. it kind of hurt when it failed, though he had to admit it was a very horrible kind of joke now that he thought about it, and it probably only made everything worse.

“not funny.” you shook your head softly, expression flat, as another tear rolled down your cheek. “im serious, matt. i need him,” you told him. the words sort of hurt matt in the process of you speaking them, of course you didn’t mean to, but it made him feel like he wasn’t enough for you. made him feel less than the stuffed animal. he understood your problem and knew how much you depended on it, but he wished that he could help just as much as the small plush bunny.

he lead you over to sit on the edge of his bed, as he crouched down to be perfectly aligned with your face, his hands now rested on your thighs for support. now looking directly into your eyes, he started rubbing small comforting motions with his hands. his words were just as comforting when he said, "i'm really sorry, baby. i really didn't mean to put him in there."

“it’s okay…” you accidentally broke the eye contact, feeling kind of ashamed for what you were about to say. after all it was just a dumb plush bunny. you refused to look at him, forcing your eyes to the ground next to him instead, before you spoke, “i’m just like really scared to sleep now.”

he lifted your head, making eye contact once again, making sure you were listening to what he was saying. “why? you know i’m right here.”

you shrugged, feeling stupid for even feeling like this over a fucking stuffed animal. "i don't know... i just know whenever i don't have it, i have nightmares. vivid nightmares." your lips started to quiver as some examples started replaying in your head.

matt grabbed a hold of your face, wiping any excess tears from your cheeks, “hey, i’m going to be here the whole time, okay?” you nodded your head in response, trying to hold back the avalanche of tears that you felt.

matt swiftly headed over to where he was laying before, but this time making a little spot for you to snuggle in. “c’mere,” he said, holding out an arm to you. you immediately crawled to your little spot, letting him engulf you in his arms the second you got there. he pulled the blanket over the both of you.

“goodnight sweetheart, i love you.” he planted a kiss upon your forehead before you nuzzled into his chest, now knowing he would be the one to suppress the horrible dreams.

but when you woke up the next morning, you couldn't quite tell if that had been the case. because as you held onto matt, you felt something fluffy in between the two of you. grabbing it, you realized it was the faded beige bunny you had been so worried about the night before.

NOTES ! 🫐

a/n: yall ever know the feeling when someone you love messes something up on accident but you can be mad at them so you just feel the overwhelming urge to cry?? yeah that’s how this feels 😭

#nat’s blog ✩#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo angst

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mixingandmelting · 26 days ago

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Give Life Another Chance

Summary: He had always had your back when he was Robin. He'll always have your back even as an Outlaw

Word: 3.9k

A/N: Finally did Jason's version of childhood friend to lover trope! *Also part of Winter Series: Day 5

Soft, black curls and a smile that could win the hearts of millions- there were so many good points you probably should’ve noticed first. But having been kicked out of the orphanage again and preoccupied to find a safe place to sleep on the streets for the night, your mind was slow to process that you were just saved from being jumped by Robin. So, your brain chose to point something else out as it registered. Like how haughty he was being with both hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised as he had asked why a kid like you was out in the street this late.

“You’re short.”

“…Seriously? Instead of a thanks you tell me I’m short?”

You were going to ask him if he had any plans on denying what you had just said when one of the thugs on the ground let out a groan.

“Let’s go!”

Quickly, boy wonder wrapped an arm around your waist before using the Batarang to pull the two of you up one of the near-by buildings. Surprisingly, you never once let go of him nor scream as he swung from one building to the next. Was it from trust? Survival instincts? You don’t know. The next few minutes blurred as two teens continued to swing from building to building until he finally landed in front of a 24/7 burger place.

“Wha-where-“

Where did he get the cap he plopped on your head from? When did he change into the hoodie and sweatpants? Your head was spinning from so many unanswered questions that he was practically dragging you into the restaurant with a firm yet gentle grip around your hand. Shuffling you into a booth, he sat across from you and ordered two sets of the same burger meal.

You both sat there quietly until the food came out.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Robin asked, noticing you hadn’t touched your food yet.

You blankly blinked at him then at the food in front of you. Slowly, you reached for the burger and took a bite. Then another. You take the napkin he offered across the table to wipe your mouth and cheeks from both the food stains and tears while eating.

By the time you finished, you both were slurping on your soft drinks, stuffed and satisfied.

“Well?” He asked, his eyes behind the domino mask trained on you.

“… Why?” He must’ve expected you to ask him from the shrug he gave.

“You looked like you needed it.”

You looked like you needed it?

“You were planning to sleep out tonight weren’t you? How were you going to do that on an empty stomach?”

“I…” You paused for a moment, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m used to it.”

He didn’t cue you or pressed for answers. It was all on you, spilling everything you’ve gone through from how your parents had abandoned you at age four from being chased by loan sharks to how you were continually being kicked out of each orphanage you enter for accidentally catching the employees embezzling funds meant to maintain the place.

The one question he did ask was about school. He didn’t pursue further when you told him everyone knew your clothes were from hand-me-downs and the Salvation Army.

You appreciated how he didn’t offer words of faux sympathy, simply muttering with an “I see”. You were curious what expression he was making though as he had his head turned toward the window and the hoodie pulled over his head blocked your view.

Once the glasses were emptied, you both headed out.

“Do you have any friends at your school?”

You weren’t taken off guard anymore, finding yourself adapted to your current situation.

“No.”

“Then head to this place. It’s nicer compared to all the others you were placed in.”

Unexpectedly, an address for somewhere in the nicer neighborhood of Gotham was neatly written on the napkin.

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to get there? Have them let me in? It’s not like I have a social worker or anyone who’ll fill the paperwork for me.”

“It’ll be fine. Just take the bus and walk there. Once you get there, just give them your name and then, they’ll let you in.”

It was suspicious to say the least. At the same time, you didn’t have anything to lose.

“Then you have to promise to come visit me tomorrow.” Childishly, you stuck your pinky out at him. “ ‘Cause if you don’t, it’ll be your fault I’m dead.”

“You aren’t going to die,” he snorted, yet wrapped his pinky around yours. “If anything, it’ll be a step forward to make life a bit better.”

He was right. Life did get better when you arrived at the written address. With no hesitation despite the time of your arrival being past 1:00 AM, a kind woman welcomed you in and helped get you situated. For a week, you were busy getting used to the new environment where everything and everyone was… well, normal. None of the other kids looked as if they were struggling or waging war for survival. The adults were attentive and fostered healthy maturity.

It helped that Robin had decided to visit you every night rather than just the next day. Along with checking in that you were okay, he listened to everything you had in your mind. The struggles, the challenges, the confusion from how none of your past experiences could’ve prepared for this big of a change. In a good way of course.

Too bad the visits became less frequent once you started going to your new school. He mentioned about getting in trouble for not focusing on his patrols the last time. Your disappointment must’ve been evident when he proposed to do the “pen-pal thing”. Using how you mentioned you’d do anything to thank him on the promised night as an excuse, he apparently had been wanting to do it but didn’t have anyone until you.

That’s how you ended up leaving your window open ajar every night, having slipped a letter between the slim gap between the sill and the window itself and getting one back the same way, same place.

School on the other hand was eventful. Your only friend was Jason Todd, who, you had to admit, put in a lot of work to get close to you. To be fair, you didn’t expect someone to approach you all friendly on your first day. There were some hiccups along the way, however you guys managed to get through them and became buddies.

There wasn’t a day you guys weren’t hanging together. Homework was being done at the library, talking about the books you both recently read during lunch. The time you both didn’t talk to each other was during class. Unlike you who sometimes found the drawl on Homo sapiens boring, Jason was soaking in all the knowledge with enthusiasm. You once called him school-freak from how much he loved to learn, being in school and exploring the topics the teachers were going over. He retorted that you were mad you couldn’t beat him in getting a higher grade during the last exam. You simply snatched his book and ran away with it, not appreciating how he was right.

With Robin during the night and Jason during the day, you were brighter and friendlier. Slowly, yet surely, you were found smiling more and approachable. Your schoolmates and teachers warmed up to you, treating you like one of them. You also had a place you could call home temporarily, where you could relax and enjoy the presence of having somewhat of a family.

The serenity and joy you had ended up lasting for two years. Jason suddenly stopped coming to school. Robin hadn’t visited you for a while nor sent you a letter. With Robin, you assumed it was because he was busy fighting criminals alongside Batman. Jason? You got worried about him. You tried to get in touch with him in every possible way you can. You asked the teachers, who were also worried as they didn’t know why he hadn’t been attending. You used the school’s directory book they hand out every year and sent letters to his residence.

It was when you got the courage and called his home phone you were given the news. It went from shock. Denial. And then devastation. You felt completely ruined. Your eyes were glass and devoid of emotions when you had gone to his grave, dressed in black, holding a bouquet of red roses (he once said in passing that they were his favorite).

Your one friend you made for the first time in life- you refused to believe he was dead. The news reported it was from an incident related to the Joker, making things much harder from the sheer weight of reality. Especially knowing the survival rate of the victims when the notorious villain was involved.

You managed to maintain sanity superficially, convincing everyone that you were over it. That you were fine. Never realizing the reason for you to hold on was from the belief that Robin would soon visit you again when he had time or at least take the letters that were growing longer where you switched size of the envelopes multiple times.

Things became complicated when Batman, who hadn’t been seen with Robin for so long, made an appearance with him again. Problem was, the Robin next to the older man wasn’t your Robin. Instead of soft curls, his hair was silky and straight. The costume was different. The way the new Robin smiled wasn’t the same as the other Robin. Your Robin.

During the time Robin wasn’t present, you had thought he was severely injured. Hence your expression of concern was always written in your letters, even in the midst of your grief. But what if. Just what if-

You wanted it to be not true so much as you matched dates to events. The day of Jason’s death to around when Robin stopped sending you letters. The day Jason was seen with a cast to the day Robin wasn’t present on a mission. It was a cruel, awful joke played by the fates. Your Robin was Jason Todd. And the people- no, person- you loved with every fiber in your heart was dead.

Jason, on the other hand, was never really into people back when he was a kid. Helping those in need and bringing justice so those suffering would finally have peace? Of course. He would always do it. Interest in a specific person though? He didn’t until he found you walking out and about in the middle of Park Row. Initially, out of empathy from knowing what it was like living in that awful area of Gotham, he was planning to follow you in the case you decided to get your hand dirty and mess with the wrong nest. He was proven wrong and soon changed his assessment of you to respect when he watched you give candy from your bag into the hands of the little kids hiding in the alley. You weren't being dumb about it either, posing it as if you were threatening contrary to what had actually happened. The longer he followed you, the more he saw how knowledgeable you were, knowing when to pick fights and when to keep your head low to stay out of trouble as you walked through the different alleys.

It made him more curious about you, from how you managed to save an adult man from a beating by tripping the assailant with the cover of his sidekick being the one to kick a nearby can. When he read the information he was able to find about you, he felt bitter. It was one thing to live with a dead-beat dad and a drugged out mom, but it was a whole different situation when having to live out in the street without a roof to cover your head most of the time, trying to get by on your own with no adults.

He tried to think of something, anything to help you that night, after closing out the files that had been on the monitor in the Batcave. He started out with following you around during patrols and beating up anyone who seemed suspicious or approaching you with ill-intent behind your back. In his spare time, he was figuring out ways to get in a better child-care system considering you were still a minor, just like him. After hearing about his old man sponsoring to open an orphanage in central Gotham, he mustered the courage to put in a favor.

His plan was all set and ready to go once Bruce got involved, all that was left was to get you on board. Lady Luck must’ve been smiling at him when the perfect opportunity arose when he caught sight of some thugs hiding in the alley you were about to pass. That definitely got your attention when the thug that was close to grabbing you by the scruff went down with a thud.

He never understood that awful and tragic feeling of seeing someone empty until he saw your eyes. Blank and filled with nothing, not even a spark of resentment or rage. He swallowed the lump in his throat, heart burning from the evidence of how the corruption of Gotham claimed another young victim.

“So, what’s a kid like you roaming the streets at this time?”

He didn’t mean to sound cocky. He was trying to sound normal, mustering the tiny drop of remaining strength in him to not waver when you looked so broken. Doesn’t mean he was impressed with your jab though. He had been told by Alfred that he was taller than Dick when he was the same age as him for your information.

As he proceeded to help you get another chance with life, it wasn't part of his plan to become besties, even more so develop feelings for you. Sure, when he approached you as Jason Todd, things didn’t go well at first considering he knew you but you didn’t know him. His civilian self, to be exact. But as he got to know you as both Jason and Robin, he came to know the other side of you. The one with a heart that could encompass the whole world, a mind that had the potential to excel in anything you put your mind into. He constantly worried over the chances of you getting hurt, despite the rough exterior, from being so fragile.

Your letters reflected this as there were times your vulnerability appeared in writing on your thoughts of others. Yes there was hatred and annoyance but always in the last paragraph, you express your desire to understand rather than to exact revenge. You wanted to give them a chance and connect, not resent.

The day he was captured was the day he wanted to confess to you. Reveal who he was and see if he could have a chance to be in your heart. So when he had come back to the living, he didn’t seek you out. He was scared to find out you had moved on without him. That he was simply left as a fragment of a memory like everyone else.

You would’ve laughed at the expression he made if you had seen him when he saw you at his grave. He was camping, hoping that Bruce would appear and prove him wrong. To show that he was still loved and in his heart as his son. All he could do was hide his presence behind the giant oak tree, slightly tilting his head out to watch what you were doing.

He watched your form from behind as you sat down in front of his grave before shuffling and pulling out folded pieces of paper. With his hiding spot not being that far off, he could hear you talking. And he wished he didn’t. A giant block of ice settled to the bottom of his stomach, listening to you read your letters you apparently continued to write to him. Your voice didn’t waver, casual and light as if you were truly talking to him like in the past.

When you got to what seemed like the end, your voice cracked. Then a sniffle. For a moment, he forgot the anger and hatred he harbored, his knuckles going white from suppressing himself to reaching out and comforting you. It ripped him into pieces from the sorrow and wretch you were emitting, sobbing and whimpering why he couldn’t have told you sooner. Why he left without letting you say your final farewells. How you wanted him back.

You get interrupted and quickly forced to wipe your tears when your phone rung.

“This is Officer-“

He stopped breathing. Out of all things, you became a police officer. The hope to meet and rekindle with you was completely crushed, his status not at all glamorous or society acceptable at the moment. When he heard ruffling, he came back to reality. He could feel his eyes well-up as he watched you place a familiar bouquet of flowers on his grave before getting up and leaving.

Once you were gone, he walked over and picked the bouquet up delicately. For the first time since his revival, he was grieving for someone other than him, someone he still loves. Ironically, he wished that you were the one to have forgotten about him. Not being haunted and distraught as if you were watching him die over and over.

Maybe it was then he developed the motivation to change, to leave and let go of emotions he had been holding up to then. Eventually, he had gone from working to dominate the underground businesses to getting rid of them. And whenever he had spare time, he’d have your back and make sure no one was going after you. It wasn’t just criminals he would take down who were planning to attack you and your group when on the field, he had also aimed at any corrupted officers that were going to use you as their scape-goat.

Sure he had gone on adventures as he progressively turned over a new leaf, yet you were and still always his priority. Back when he was Robin and now, as Red Hood the outlaw. As time passed, he could see you healing. Your smiles more genuine. A glow in your skin. Your visits to him every week being more peaceful.

He didn’t think nor entertain the idea of ever meeting you again. How could he when it’ll break you to find out he’s been alive, again, for so long?

So imagine his surprise when he arrives at the manor for the traditional Wayne Christmas party, finding you standing under the ridiculously large tree in the equally ridiculously large living room.

The disgruntled expression gets replaced with shock for Jason as yours morphs into disbelief.

“Ja..son…?”

Six feet, a body packed with muscles and scars, not to mention the infamous brown, leather jacket. Dick really wasn’t kidding during the time you helped hide him and the other vigilantes during the anti-hero hunt led by Amanda Waller when he had revealed that Jason Todd was actually alive after hearing from you how you knew the other, both as the former Robin and civilian. It makes you sick in the stomach of how much the person you loved once known as Mr. Sunshine went through for all the pure, unadulterated positivity and radiant optimism to be stripped away from him, leaving only hardship, fatigue, and harshness when hearing what he had gone through before and after his death. He didn’t deserve such cruelty, not when he was trying to pull the weight of the effort society refused to put in to make life better when he was a tiny teen.

What you do next is risky. It may cause you to lose everything the two of you once had even. But how could you have him stand in front of the double-oak doors alone with eyes exposing his vulnerable and fragile heart.

The questions he wants to ask, the actions he wants to take, they all are swallowed down when he’s pulled into a hug. It’s then he notices how much smaller you are compared to him. Your arms that once used to completely wrap around his shoulders can barely wrap around his torso. Your frame, frail as you tremble and leave tears on his thin, cotton shirt.

He doesn’t need Dick’s motions or Tim’s mouthing to know what to do. Careful to crush you, he leans into you.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I was back.”

It’s the greatest Christmas gift life has ever given the two of you when you awkwardly nod in response to his words, no intentions of letting him go from fear he’d disappear on you again. And the sentiment is shared when he squeezes you closer to himself, a smile that was lost for a while reappearing and making those around feel the joy of the holiday miracle.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader

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disgustingtwitches · 5 months ago

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141 as clients for sexworker reader!

//König and Nikto are here too//

MDNI

Ghost

You rarely see him, but you look forward to hearing from him. He always books multiple hours, sometimes even overnights. It's just hour after hour of pounding. Every hole you can take it. You tell him not to leave marks, but you don't really mean it. You know it. He knows it. Bitemarks and bruises are on your skin for days afterwards, he pays for you to send pictures of them healing. Thank God your regulars don't give a shit about the marks. Even if they did you wouldn't stop him from leaving them. Can't really stop him from leaving them. He asks you to wear makeup so he can fuck it off your face. You recently found out he's been stealing your fake eyelashes when they fall off, he collects them like trophies(???) Only praises you when he's felt you've earned it, which was rare. Never said I love you. Don't think he knows those words.

Gaz

Ugh, perfect client. Always a gentleman and really hot. Like "why are you hiring me when you can fuck anybody?" hot. Such a pretty dick too, has a little beauty mark on his shaft you like to kiss. He books three hours every other week just to cuddle and fuck. Really big on pleasing you, so he'll request you not to wear underwear just so he can pull your pants down as soon as you walk through his door and start eating you out. Sometimes when he really wants the "girlfriend experience" he'll slide into you while your spooning and watching Netflix. Has accidently said "I love you" once while ploughing into you, his lips pressed right up to your ear. You don't bring it up.

Price

One of the older clients. Big pussy eater. Huge. Likes to hire you to do stuff around his flat in a skirt and g-string so he can pull it to the side and eat you out while you're doing whatever he asks you to do. Watching TV? Cleaning the windows? Folding laundry? Sometimes he just straight up wants you to sit on his face, holding the skirt up so he can still see your face. When he's finally satiated, he'll get his. Sitting you on his lap and helping you bounce up and down, still in that skirt. Says I love you, but not to you. To your pussy. Literally looks at your pussy and says it.

Soap

So, so weird. Likes to act out scenes he sees in porn. Seriously. Like "help me I'm stuck in the washing machine" or "did you order a pizza with extra sausage". He'll buy outfits for the scenes; cheerleader, nurse, maid, even has a oddly realistic army uniform, right down to the boots. You get the point. One day he wanted to "try ass stuff", because he thought it "looked cool". He said I love you as soon as you stuck the tip of your strap-on in him and continues to do so every time you fuck him in the ass.

König

Yeah... Sorry to be basic but he's a bondage guy through and through. He likes to switch it up sometimes but he's mostly the dominating party. Not the kind to care about fancy shibari, really just hogties and knots that will keep you in your place. Taught you a few moves to take him down when he wants that. Wants you to use him for your pleasure when you're dominating, just like he uses you for his own. Doesn't say I love you. But he does teach you to say "I am yours" in German. So whenever he asks you a question in German, your line is always "Ja, Ich bin dein, Oberst."

Nikto

Very clingy. He was odd off rip. You were kind of uncomfortable with him because you didn't really understand him. Then he became endearing when you finally "get" him. He's sweet. Doesn't want to be alone. He'll pay anything just to have you sit next to him. Watching TV. He sits on the floor between your legs while you sit on the couch and play with his hair. He tells you lame jokes while eating whatever you wanted that day. One day you decide to tell him a corny joke too.

"We... don't think that is very funny."

Of course, he has needs. It depends on the day, but he's always changing the dynamics. Very much a switch at heart. He'll have you bent over the table while holding your jaw to look up into his eyes. Making you say thank you everytime he strokes into you. Other days he'll want to be rode while you hold him, "handsome man," you say between every kiss, "love you so much," while he whimpers under you, "you deserve to feel good." He says I love you. A lot. You say it back. Whether it's because you want to continue getting paid or you actually care about him, you're not too sure at this point.

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acid-ixx · 7 months ago

Note

Okay, how about we call Alfred dad??? Sense he raised us and practically is our dad. Sorry I keep on asking. I just am a thinker

series masterlist

a/n: don't be sorry for asking ! i like answering asks even if i do answer really slowly, so don't be afraid to send in questions ! this is a continuation to this ask.

it would actually be a given that if the reader wasn't too broken to the point that they genuinely could never consider anyone as a father figure, then alfred would be someone they would call their dad.

because at least in their 15 years they had been inside the manor, alfred would always be the one who would stand by their side. even if it's not always, he would be there for you when he could. and that effort alone is enough to consider him worthy as your father.

pre-yandere bruce wouldn't even know of your tight-knit relationship with alfred; calling him dad when you skip through the halls with him, calling him your "actual father" whenever you two would bake together, and even going as far as gifting him a mug with 'no. 1 dad!' painted sloppily into the ceramic. alfred would even teach you how to crochet, so you two would get matching sweaters for winter. although alfred wouldn't wear the sweater for the sake of formality, you would always be aware that he stores them somewhere safe and warm as some sort of treasure.

so, imagine just how heartbroken bruce would be once you are abducted by your family, calling out to your dad in your drugged state on your bed, bruce thinking that it was him that you're calling for help when all of a sudden, you make grabby-hands towards alfred, eyes hazily looking at the butler with such desperation that it feels like alfred is your actual father.

seeing you two act so close, bruce would be so, so conflicted. because at least, in the years of solitude you had spent, you find comfort in the very same man bruce considers as his father figure. but at the same time it should've been him that you call your father, it should've been bruce you look at for help and guidance, it should've been him that lulls you back to sleep, wiping the tears that run down your face.

it breaks his heart even further once he discovers all the little trinkets that you make for alfred, all the inside jokes you two share, the gifts you cherish in your cabinets from the apartment you used to live in; they were all from alfred— bruce wants to kick himself realizing that he never made an effort to gift you anything in your 15 years of living in the manor as a ghost.

bruce swears on his life that he'll make it up to you, that despite him being unable to stay the night frequently with you that he'll make it up during the day. he'll take you to business meetings, to arcades, to malls; literally anywhere to get you to bond with him as much as you did alfred.

he'll schedule holidays where the entire family is required to join and you'll be the center of attention. your birthdays will be extravagant, he would spend millions to make a show that you're his favorite child; that means he'll spoil you with gifts that pertain to your hobbies. and because your family loves you so much, please do expect a minimum of 10 gifts prepared by all your siblings and a credit card with no limit for bruce.

oh? you don't need material things? don't worry, you'll be surprised with just how meticulously your father would plan for vacations. any place you would choose would be taken into heavy consideration, even planning with him would feel like some sort of father-child bonding.

but really, he'll commit all his time and effort for you.

bruce would do everything to make you consider him as your dad.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #not my best work but eh

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jiminrings · 7 months ago

Text

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

#heh . how r we feeling citizens!!!! :O #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

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writersdrug · 3 months ago

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For bartender ghost and waitress reader, what about some fluff? Small things like rolling silverware or saving some of the food from messed up orders for each other when they know they haven’t eaten?? Also, your writing is absolutely phenomenal and it is keeping me going!! Keep up the great work!

Bulleted post bc I'm lazyyyy but thank you babes!!

Simon's job revolves around the bar, and yours revolves around the restaurant floor. Still, that doesn't stop the two of you from mixing your sidework together, just to have extra time with each other. Price never seems to mind, as long as the work gets done.

You'll stand behind the bar and chop the citrus fruits the way Simon showed you, while he replaces the empty kegs and cleans the taps.

Rolling silverware was no longer his job once you were hired, but he regularly joins you at a booth after your shift is over and helps. He polishes the utensils while you roll them in napkins, and he listens as you ramble on about your day.

Before the bar opens, when he takes his smoke break, you take a snack break. Sitting on the stairs in the alleyway, eating the loaded fries Soap made, while he leans against the brick wall of the adjacent building. You badger him with questions about his time in the task force, and he begrudgingly answers them all (he's preening at the way you listen with such interest).

Sometimes he'll text you before you show up for the day: "need some fruit and bitters for the bar, Sevvy's?" And you know to meet him a bit earlier at the bar, so the two of you can head to the corner market down a few blocks. He carries the basket while you dig through the crates of fruit, insisting on picking the best ones - if it was just him, he'd grab the ones off the top that don't appear to be rotting. But it's you and him, and he's happy to let you drag him from place to place and take up all his time.

You once video called him late in the morning. He immediately worried something was wrong - but when you just started your usual chit-chat, propping your phone against your bathroom mirror and doing your makeup, he realized you were just being domestic. And it warmed his soul more than he cared to admit.

Now, it was a weekly occurrence. You start a video call with him, and the both of you talk as you go about your day. He'll only stop when he has to run into the brewery and discuss the next order with the brewmaster, but even then, he's got one earbud in and his phone tucked into his pocket.

Not much but enjoy!

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty

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servicpop · 8 months ago

Text

✶ ﹑ㅤtutoring seshㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : adrien x bottom m!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤtutor sesh w/ your deliquent situationship but he can't focus on the studying, only you!

✙ warnings — parents are home , manhandling(?) , obsessive 'n a little pervy adrien , slight hair pulling , bodyworship(?) , Adrien is a little silly in this fic

notes ,, this was supposed to be short but I got carried away ^^;

Adrien had called you over to his house for a "tutoring session." For past few weeks, Adrien has been near-failing practically every single class except for gym class and whatnot. Realising he needed to improve his grades or he'll never graduate with you, he called you on one faithful evening to come over and help him study.

Obviously you complied; it was nice to see Adrien showing some sort of motivation to improve, so you changed into some casual clothes and began to walk to his house. You had prepared your laptop, pencil case, and textbooks, all ready to put in a few hours of tutoring. When you arrived at his front door, you grazed the back of your knuckles against the wood and knocked once or twice, expecting Adrien to show up with a proud smirk like he always did.

But it wasn't Adrien. When the door swung open, you saw his mother. You've only seen her once or twice but never up-close like this. The words caught in your throat as you clutched the straps of your bags, trying to find the words that never came. As if heaven answered your prayers, you saw Adrien jogging down the stairs and to the door, leaning on the door frame with his arm held above his head.

"You came," He grinned, taking the bag from your shoulders as he pulled you inside by your wrist. He helped you take off your shoes cinderella style and neatly placed them beside the doorway. He was awfully caring right now. Your hands felt crammy as you took a glance at Adrien's mother watching the two of you interact, a small blush dusted your ears while you quickly turned away. It must've looked like you were dating with the way she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, mom, we'll be in my room if you'd excuse us," Adrien flashed a toothy smile at his mother before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. As he walked you up the stairs, Adrien found an opportunity to tease you, "You nervous meeting my mom?" He asked, squeezing your sides playfully. You shoot him an unamused gaze and he lets out a hearty chuckle from that. Adrien's hand wrapped around his gold doorknob, twisting it before he halted for a second. "Uh, wait here for a second, I gotta clean up my room," he didn't even wait for a response before slipping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"Shit," Adrien muttered under his breath as he quickly shoved the polaroids and photos of you from his desk and into his drawer. He couldn't let you see how god damn obsessed he was about you. He couldn't let you see the photos of yourself stained with a white sheen, no, he wouldn't want to scare you off.

Adrien finally emerged from his room, pushing the door wide open for you to come in with a smile. You didn't question it. As you walked in, you were instantly hit with the scent of his cologne and natural musk. It wasn't a strong enough scent to burn your nose but it would still take you awhile to get used to it. Besides the scent, Adrien's bedroom was relatively clean for a guy who was titled 'the school deliquent.' He had a few sports posters plastered on the walls and his shelf had a few trophies from his childhood. You spotted the baseball bat leaned up against the wall alongside with the volleyball and basketball resting next to eachother. Adrien was sure athletic.

As you two sat down beside your desk, you pulled out all the equipment needed for studying and turned to Adrien, "What do you wanna study?" You asked him and got a small shrug in response. Well, why not start with biology since you conveniently happen to have a textbook that covered the subject.

Around 30 minutes pasted and you were diligently teaching him about human anatomy, glancing over to see him nodding once or twice. You thought it was going well but Adrien on the other hand... He was too focused on the way your hands glided against the pages, tapping the pen against the paper rhythmically, and how your eyes fluttered to him ever so often. Shit, he was horny as hell right now. Just the thought of those hands intertwining with his as he fucks the intelligence out of you is enough to get his blood pumping to the wrong places.

"Adrien? Are you listening?" Your voice snaps him out of his twisted fantasies and he leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping down to a whisper, "You know, I'm a hands-on, visual learner..." That shit-eating grin spread across his face as Adrien pat his lap enticingly, trying to draw your attention to the print in his sweatpants. But knowing you, you wouldn't give in so easily — you were called here to tutor him, not anything else.

"Just answer one more question and I'll—" Before you could even finish your sentence, Adrien's arms wrapped around your waist and he hoisted you up from the chair, practically slinging you over his shoulder. His forearms flexed around you, making sure you didn't fall before placing you on his bed, the mattress dipped from the sudden weight. "Try to be quiet 'kay? My parents are home," He nipped at the shell of your ear before hastily undoing your belt and sliding your pants off. Did he care that his parents could come in at any moment? No, but it was much more exciting to see you try and keep quiet.

"Can we kiss?" Adrien's voice was almost whiny, his eyelashes batted at you innocently — even though he was far from innocent. Nonetheless, you didn't respond, you've set certain boundaries that prevented you and him from getting attached (even though you may or may not have broken it a couple of times). "No," it was a simple, sharp answer that Adrien grumbled at. He understood where you were coming from, he was a bad influence and you were this goody-two-shoes. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted something more than just meaningless flings. He huffed, murmuring a small, "How can I study the muscles of a tongue then?"

Scooping you up back into his arms, Adrien ignored your small protests and shifted your position so that your stomach would lay flat against his bed. His hands met the back of yours, pinning you down as he slotted each of his fingers in the spaces between yours. "What happened to studying, Adrien?" Your scolds were muffled by Adrien's pillow and seemed to fall short of his ears. As he held you down, he grinded his hips against your ass, groaning softly from the pure excitement he felt. It had been a few months since he was about to get his hands on you, your pictures just wasn't as good as the real thing.

"Calvin klein hm?" Adrien chuckled softly, trailing his hands from the back of your palm, to your shoulders, down your spine, and to the waistband of your boxers, "Next time don't wear anything." His fingers hooked the elastic before pulling it down and off your legs. You couldn't see what he was doing from your position, and every touch made your skin jump, he was so unpredictable. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before spreading them apart to see your hole. "This is the anus right?" He asked, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"—Yes," you hesitated to answer him, he was obviously playing games with you, but there was no harm in humoring him. You heard the faint rustling of clothes before you felt something prod at your entrance. You sucked in through your teeth, was he seriously going to do this with no lube? "Sorry, don't got any on me right now." It was like he read your mind and instead dipped his head down to lick a stripe over your hole. It tickled, and your body naturally jerked away from it before he grabbed your hips and held them down one more. Weirdo.

He shuffled behind you, placing two knees on either side of your legs and his fingers angled your hips a little bit up. The slight burn of Adrien pushing into you made your fingers curl around his pillow, gripping it like your life depended on it. He slowly pushed in, filling you up until his hips met your ass. Even if your skin was flushed against his, Adrien pushed impossibly deeper inside of you until he could feel his tip press against your prostate. His hands tightened around your waist, stopping you from squirming and forcing you to take it.

"Is this your prostate?" He asked, his voice slightly trembled from the pleasure that coursed his veins, he was trying so hard to control himself. This time you ignore him, you know well that he knew. From the lack of a response, Adrien let out a breathy laugh before he finally decided to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming into you. Your eyes flew open and your knuckles grew pale from how hard you were holding onto his pillow, your whines were muffled quite well, thankfully.

Adrien groaned ruggedly as he pounded you into his bed, the headboard knocked on his wall with every thrust. "You're being so quiet," He chuckled, reaching a hand out to ruffle your hair affectionate before moving to grab your hand. You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic enough with the way he kept slamming into you like it was a punishment. Everytime he pulled out, he cooed at the way your hole would suck him back in like it missed him. "Fuck, I just can't with you," He let out a shaky breath as he rolled his hips against you, pushing further and further, trying to reach places he couldn't before.

He was reaching so deep that tears began to blur your vision, everything felt so overwhelming but numb at the same time. He leaned down to press kisses on your knuckles as he held your hand tightly under his own. His hips were relentless, slapping against yours, you were sure he'd leave your bruised and sore tomorrow. It was like he completely forgot they weren't alone in his house. In fact, Adrien's fingers moved from your hand to your hair, threading them through each strand and grabbing a handful, tugging it gently so your head would lift from the pillow.

"Kiss?" He asked once more, his lips already ghosting over yours. At this point you didn't care, all you could feel was how Adrien was throbbing inside you and how your dick rubbed against his white sheets with every thrust. "Fine," you exhale and he took the opportunity almost immediately, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he pulled your hair back for more access. His tongue pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth while simultaneously keeping your moans contained.

The dim lighting, the way your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back, his dick pulsing inside you, it was all too much for his perverted brain. "Gonna cum," he muttered against your lips, biting on your bottom lip. He his hands return to your hips and his head falls over your shoulder. You could feel your own orgasm building up as your body started to squirm, you cock growing sensitive from the constant rubbing against Adrien's sheets. Adrien paused his thrusting just to pull out completely and shove himself back in, causing a loud whine rip from your throat and you body jolting.

Your cum splattered across the bed as Adrien smiled against your shoulder, keeping you from squirming as he came inside you, filling you with his semen. With a few more wet thrusts, Adrien finally stilled, watching as his own cum bubbled around his dick as he nestled deep inside you. "We should do this again, hm? Next time we can study our chemistry," his arms snaked up your body to wrap them around your shoulders, capturing you in a bear hug as he looked up at you with a goofy smile.

"What's with you and being so corny?" You groan, pushing his face away from you.

a/n: i luv adrien sosososo much ... wish he real ,, also not sure if he was a bit ooc here ,, a bit sillier than usual but I hope you guys like it ♡

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #oc smut #mlm ns/fw #sub male reader #top character

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gotta-winwin · 2 months ago

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OT13 Reaction -- when you ask them for an absurd amount of money as a prank

SCOUPS:

will transfer you the money, no questions asked. unless it's like an insane amount of money - like enough to buy a car - then he'd be concerned and ask why you need it. are you in trouble? are you being blackmailed? what can he do? he's ready to assist you in anyway possible and will be sulky when he finds out it's a prank. relieved, but a little sad that you'd even feel the need to test his loyalty to you.

JEONGHAN:

his immediate reaction is no. have you guys seen that interview where one of the members (i think it was dino? mingyu? my memory is so bad) said that jeonghan doesn't play when it comes to money and it lowkey stingy? yeah that. he'll definitely be hesitant and might even just flat out say no. extremely proud when you reveal it was a prank all along. i knew it was a prank, baby~ the student can't fool the teacher~

JOSHUA:

his immediately worried something terrible has happened. it's uncommon for you to ask him for money, usually its small enough sums that you don't even have to ask - you have his card anyways. stressed and annoyed when you tell him its all a prank. ai~ you know my weak heart cannot take you stressing me out.

JUN:

a little confused why you're asking him for money. he's the type to not catch on, you being in danger isn't the immediate thought when you ask him for 300 thousand dollars. will not react when you tell him it was a prank, the request for the money hasn't even properly computed in his head yet.

HOSHI:

he's going to complain he doesn't have that much money even though we all know he does. he'll agree to transfer it to you, but will whine and nag the whole time that this is his hard earned money! he loves you but why are you taking it away! another type to get sulky when you tell him its a prank and you don't actually need the money.

WONWOO:

ummm...why? he'll ask a shit ton of questions before agreeing, he needs to know why, when, what, where, who? all the details. this is his money after all, he needs to know where its all going. it gets to the point where you give up, just telling him its a prank cause his questioning isn't making it fun anymore. he tsks and asks if you have too much time on your hands to be pranking him.

WOOZI:

the money is in your bank account before you even finish asking. he's lowkey surprised you haven't asked sooner, he's always open with how much he's making and constantly tells you he'd just rather you guys have a joint bank account so he can spoil you. refuses to let you return the money once you admit its a prank. he makes more than enough anyways.

MINGHAO:

another one that's immediately worried. money's never been a topic you guys have ever talked about so he knows there must be something wrong. asks a boatload of questions trying to make sure you're okay and not getting scammed online or something. ends up just chiding you for even falling into a trap where you need that much money and narrows his eyes at you when you tell him its a prank. he thinks you're crazy and has too much time on your hands.

DK:

poor baby's scared. sure he makes a lot of money but he's never needed that much. eyes are popping out of his head when you tell him the sum of what you need. he agrees, of course, anything for you, but his hands are shaking as he reaches for his wallet. dramatically flops onto the floor when you tell him its a prank, begging you to never do that again - he might be rich but in his mind he's got like 5 cents in his bank account.

MINGYU:

blinks. pretends to think about it, but really he's been waiting for this day. the only possibility in his mind as to why you need the money is only for good things, and who is he to not spoil his baby? begs you to take his card anyways when you tell him its a prank. it's literally the only reason why i work, baby. just take my card.

SEUNGKWAN:

he's dramatic, screeching about how that's an insane amount of money and that he wouldn't even drop that kind of money on himself- and he loves himself very very much! calms down and genuinely sits your ass down to ask why you even need it. feels extremely betrayed when you tell him its a prank and vows to get revenge.

VERNON:

he sighs. he knows this trend and he's not having it. baby, you know i'd do anything for you right. you've got me like wrapped around your finger. you literally don't need to test my loyalty. apologizes when you get sulky over him already knowing the prank and offers to let you try again - this time he'll play along. ohmygod that's a lot of money are you being blackmailed? shopping in the black market? getting us a house in Bali? shrugs when you complain about his reaction being ingenuine and over the top. there is only so much he can do.

DINO:

his jaw is dropping at how large the sum is. yeah, he's got that money, and he'll show you his bank account just to prove it. but he'll start listing out what everything is for. that sum's set aside for our house, that one's to send our kids to school - we never said how many we'd have but i set aside enough to four university tuitions, and- you'll cut him off cause he's going to make you cry with how thoughtful he is. scolds him for ruining your prank. prank? he's confused. what do you mean prank? he got so invested in telling you everything he's saved up for your shared future he kinda forgot the original question.

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nastybuckybarnes · 2 months ago

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Rat in the Mouse Cage

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Summary: There's a rat on base, and all evidence seems to be pointing to you.

Warnings: lowkey mean!soap, angst, language, angst, ptsd, angry!ghost, more of mouse's backstory??,

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: here it is, the angsty one. I had SO much fun writing this and I reaaalllly hope you guys enjoy! The next few parts are in progress but you should see them soon!

~*~

Soap opens the door to the boardroom, a room you've never been in before, and you follow him when he motions you into the room.

Captain Price is seated at the table, his eyes focused on a file in his hands.

The air is tense, and you're immediately on edge.

"Have a seat," Soap says, his voice hard.

You comply, sitting across from Price anxiously.

"Is... everything okay?" You finally ask, looking between the two men.

Price sighs and sets his paper down, finally lifting his gaze to yours.

"No. Everything's not okay."

You feel dizzy with how quickly the blood leaves your face.

"Ghost... is okay?" You ask after a long moment, squeezing your hands together as you prepare yourself for the worst.

"Yes, Ghost is fine."

You frown, glancing around.

"Where is he?"

Price and Soap exchange glances, the latter standing at the closed door with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

You've never seen him look so... angry before.

"Listen, I'm gonna give you this one chance to come clean. Don't make this any harder for yourself than it already is," Price warns softly.

"Who do you work for?"

The question catches you off guard, and you cock your head to the side.

"I... I don't work."

Price scrubs a hand over his face, the language barrier only adding to his anger.

He glances over at Soap, and the Sergeant takes that as his cue to clarify.

"We know you've been sellin' information. We need to know exactly who it is you work for. Who your buyer is."

Your mouth drops open in shock at the accusation, but he's speaking again before you have a chance to defend yourself.

"We've already caught you, so don' bother tryna lie your way outta this."

You shake your head so hard you make yourself dizzy.

"No, no! Not me! I-I don't talk to anyone! I don't give any information, I have no money I don't sell anything! Where is Ghost?" If Ghost is here, he'll listen. He can help you. He'll trust you.

You just need Simon.

"He's not here," Soap says coldly.

"I want Ghost, please!" You all but cry.

"Well he doesn't want you!" Soap shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "No one wants a filthy rat!"

The words are spat with enough malice to cut you deeper than a knife ever has.

"Ghost already knows the truth. Had to keep him away or he'd kill ya before we get answers."

The two men watch as Soap's words have the desired effect, your shoulders slumping forward and tears welling up in your eyes.

It hurts them to have to do this, to have to hurt you. You seemed so sweet, so innocent. But if it's what protects the team, so be it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time," Price says, "Who do you work for?"

You bring your teary eyes to his and shake your head once again.

"I don't work. I don't sell anything and I am not rat."

You're innocent, and this is a hill you'll die on if you have to.

Price heaves out a heavy sigh then nods at Soap.

He walks around the table to you, ignoring the way you shake your head and try to rise up out of your seat to get away from him.

You raise your hands in surrender when he reaches you, not fighting him as he zip-ties your wrists together in front of you.

"Please, I just want Ghost, please," you beg tearfully, trying your hardest to hold back sobs as he marches you out of the room.

Soap says nothing, only leads you down a hallway that you've never seen before.

"Wh-where do you take me?"

He stops outside of an elevator, hand firmly holding your bicep as he waits for it to arrive.

"Holding cells. A cage fit for a rat like you."

Cage. Another cage.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate.

You can't go back in a cage. You won't.

The elevator doors open and he pushes you inside, following after and quickly pressing the button marked 'B'.

You stare at the back of his head as the doors close.

"I didn't do it," you whisper once again, your voice soft and full of tears.

Soap swallows his feelings, the regret carving a hole in his heart.

He truly thought you were good, that he knew you, could trust you.

He can only imagine how angry Ghost will be when he finds out who he's been sharing his bed with.

"You may have Ghost fooled, but I can't deny the facts, and they all point to you," he says stiffly.

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as the elevator walls begin to close in on you.

You can't go back in a cage. You can't. It took you forever to break out of the first one, the one you called home. Now, you've found something good. A real home, a family.

Only for them to turn on you.

Before you're fully aware of what you're doing, you sweep Soap's feet out from under him. You then straddle his waist and knock your fist against his head, wincing when his head rocks back against the ground with a dull 'thud'.

It hurts you to hurt him, but you don't have time to dwell on that.

Instead, you rise to your feet and hit the STOP button, then grab his knife from his belt and slice your wrists free.

Tears cloud your vision as anxiety eats you, and you scrub your hands over your hair. You throw your head back as you struggle to breathe, only for your escape route to hit you right in the face.

Glancing between Soap's unconscious body and the roof opanels, you cringe internally at what you're about to do.

It takes a lot more effort than you thought it would to hunch him over where you need him to be, and then you're stepping carefully on his back and pushing the ceiling tiles aside.

You climb up and out, crouching on top of the elevator for a long moment as you try to figure out your next steps.

~*~

"Simon, a word," Captain Price says, intercepting the man as he returns to base.

Ghost tenses slightly, but falls into a step beside his superior.

"I wanted you to hear it from me first. We've taken your little mouse into custody for now. Soap brought her downstairs for detainment while we investigate further. All our intel shows that she's our rat."

His head snaps to his Captain and he stops walking.

"What are you talking about?"

Price sighs and extends a file for Ghost to read, but the man only stares down at it.

"I know how heavily you're... involved with her, which is why I wanted to be the one to tell you."

"Let me talk to her."

Price doesn't get to give him an answer, he's already marching toward the elevator.

"Simon, this isn't up for debate. She's guilty, and she'll be punished for what she's done. That's the way of the world, son. I hate that you got your feelings wrapped up in this, but-"

"We need to explore all other options before we continue with this. How could she be the rat? She never leaves my quarters unless she's accompanied by Soap or Gaz."

"That you're aware of," Price corrects, coming to a halt beside the man as he waits for the elevator.

"You can't be on this, Simon. You wanna talk to her, you can this once, but after that this is out of your hands. You're too involved."

Simon grinds his teeth together but remains silent.

He just needs to talk to you, that's all. Somehow, he'll prove you're innocent, and this will all be dealt with.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator doors open, and Simon's heart drops into his feet.

"Soap!"

Price is at the man's side in an instant, helping him into a seated position and checking his pulse.

His hard gaze turns to the Lieutenant.

No words are spoken. They don’t need to be. Simon knows exactly what’s going through the man’s head.

If you’re innocent, why run?

While Price checks on Soap, Simon steps into the elevator, looking up to where the tiles have been moved.

Your escape route, no doubt.

Through there, he's sure you've found a way out through the vents or into the ceiling, but either way he knows you're probably long gone. Lost now somewhere in the hidden areas of the base.

Rather than dwell on that, he's quick to help his Captain bring Soap to the medical wing, silent the entire time.

He knows you're not the rat. Deep in every fibre of his being, he knows. He can feel it in his bones. But his gut feelings aren't enough to sway his Captain.

"I want her found and I want it done quick. We keep this under wraps, no one is to know she's on the loose. The last thing we need is anyone in a panic."

"Let me just talk to her. She'll listen," he tries.

Price shakes his head, "what part of 'you can't be on this' do you not understand? You're dismissed, and if I catch you trying to involve yourself, I'm gonna hafta take it above my head," he threatens.

Ghost says nothing, only grinds his teeth together, turns on his heel, and marches out of the medical wing.

He's not sure where to go, spends a good amount of time pacing angrily through the halls as he tries to figure this out, folder from Price held tightly in his hands.

He hasn't read it yet, he can't.

Though he knows it's not you, he can't shake the fear, the ill feeling gripping his spine at the idea of you being capable of something like that.

Eventually, he discards the file on the desk in his office then heads up to the roof to smoke a pack or two.

He doesn't feel your presence until his third cigarette.

Trying to stay nonchalant, he takes another drag.

"I know you're here," he finally says, blowing out the smoke and looking down at the ground.

His mask is pushed up around his nose, and he doesn't bother adjusting it.

"I'm not going to tell them where you are or... bring you to them. I just... I just want to make sure you're okay. Please."

You stand in the shadows, eyes on his back as you weigh his words carefully before slowly stepping forward.

He turns to you, his heart breaking when he sees your puffy tear-stained face.

"Why do you want me to be okay? Why see me?" You ask, your voice hoarse from all the crying.

His brows pull together and he longs to reach for you.

"Why wouldn't I? All I've ever wanted is for you to be okay."

Your bottom lip wobbles and you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest as he steps toward you.

"Soap told me... what you really think," you begin, "that you... you don't want to see me. You-you think I'm rat, too."

"He's lying." He says the words immediately, without a moment of hesitation or a shred of doubt.

You glare up at him, taking a half-step back when he reaches for you.

"I'm not going in cage."

"I know." He takes another step forward.

"I didn't do it." You take another step back.

"I know."

"I didn't do it and they-they don't believe me. I save Soap's life! I do everything I can to help! To be good, and they don't believe me! Why don't they believe me?!" Your eyes blur with unshed tears and you suck in a hiccuping breath.

"I don't know," Ghost whispers.

His heart aches for you and he feels anger simmer deep within him at the lies spewed in a pathetic attempt at drawing a confession from you.

"They tell me you will kill me," you whisper, shaking your head as tears slip down your cheeks.

"I could never, Mouse." He takes another step forward, and he's almost close enough to touch you.

"If I don't go with them... they don't trust me. But if I do go with them... they still don't trust me. I am in cage... or they kill me."

Finally, he reaches forward, tilting your chin up and forcing you to look at him.

"I won't let that happen," his voice is harder now. "I won't let any of them touch you."

Your breathing gets quick again and he holds your hand, squeezing tightly.

"Breathe with me," he whispers.

You obey, following his breaths and successfully calming yourself down.

He nods, satisfied, then gently takes hold of your wrists, inspecting the angry red marks left by the zip-tie.

His eyes lift back up to yours and it's like you're seeing him for the first time that night.

"I didn't do it, Simon. Please, I didn't."

His eyes soften and he nods, cupping your cheek softly.

"I know, love. I believe you."

You finally nod, exhaling heavily as if a weight is lifted off of your chest.

He believes you. You knew he would. You knew you could trust him.

"But someone else did, and now they're trying to frame you for it."

It takes a minute for his words to process in your brain, but when they do you're frowning up at him.

"Why me? Who... who would do that?" What kind of horrible monster would do something like this?

"I don't know, little one. But I'll fix this. I just need you to trust me."

You blink your wet eyes a few times at him.

"How will you fix?"

"Just trust me." That's easy enough. You've been doing it since the moment you met him, and you have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

"What do I do?"

He pushes your hair away from your face and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You relax instantly, melting into his arms and snuggling your head against his chest.

He rests his chin atop your head and sighs heavily.

"Just give me time, Mouse, I promise. I won't let them touch you."

Your hands ball his shirt into your fists.

"Where do I go?"

He sighs one more time and closes his eyes, trying to figure that out as well.

Eventually, he settles on telling you the truth.

"I don't know."

~*~

His fist is knocking on Price's office door later that evening.

"Come in."

He's inside the office before the words are fully out of his Captain's mouth.

"I know you said not to get involved," he begins, holding back an eye-roll when Price sighs.

"Simon," he warns.

"And if you tell me one more time then fine, I won't get involved on your side of this," he continues as if Price hasn't said a word, "but there's a rat here, and you need all the help you can get if you wanna flush them out."

Price rubs his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut.

"We already know who the rat is."

"No, you think you know who the rat is," Simon argues.

"All the evidence points to your mouse. Are we supposed to deny the facts because she warms your bed at night?" He snaps, growing tired of this.

"The facts are that you didn't even properly talk to her. You cornered her, ambushed her, threw vile accusations and lies at her to try and get some fake confession from her, and you're surprised that she ran. Those are the facts."

Price leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, you've talked to her."

Simon places his hands on the desk, leaning forward.

"Let me help."

Price shakes his head, "nothing comes between me and my team."

"Then let me help and nothing will."

Price's thick brows raise.

"Are you threatening me, Lieutenant?"

Silence hangs long and heavy between the two of them and neither man makes an effort to break it for a good few minutes.

Finally, Price speaks.

"The safety of my team comes first before anything else."

Simon nods slowly and straightens back up.

"If that's the case, then it's in the best interests of everyone involved if you let me find the rat. The real rat. Because I'm not lettin' a single one of you touch a hair on her fuckin' head."

It's quiet again for a few minutes, but this time Simon is the one who speaks.

"Three days," he says quietly. "That's all I need."

Price looks at him warily for a long while before huffing out a sigh and shaking his head.

"If you don't have the rat in front of me in three days, regardless of who it is, I'm gonna gas the building with your Mouse hiding in it. Best way to flush out a rat."

Simon grinds his teeth together but nods his understanding, turning on his heel and marching out of the office.

He doesn't go far, only down the hall to his own office where the folder lies.

He plops down in his chair and flips it open, ready to pour over every word until he finds something to work with.

He's only reading for about half an hour before he hears it, soft creaking coming from the ceiling above him.

He knows it's you, but before he can say anything, theres a knock on his office door.

"Come," he barks, tossing he file back on his desk as Soap pushes the door open.

Simon's eyes narrow at the man, the lies he spewed still tumbling around in his brain.

"Heard you visited Price... and you've met with yer Mouse," the mohawked man says, his eyes scanning the room.

"She's not in here."

Soap's eyes snap to Ghost's, the latter leaning back in his chair.

"How's your head?"

Soap nods, looking down for a moment.

"M'not concussed, wasn't her hit that got me, it was the bounce against the floor."

Ghost only shrugs, "can't say you didn't deserve it."

Sighing, Soap leans against the doorframe.

"Are we really gonna do this, Lt?"

"You're the one standing in my office, Sergeant," he counters, crossing his arms over his chest.

They're quiet for a moment, and he knows Soap is going to speak his mind.

"Everything points to her. S'only reasonable."

"And that's reason enough to lie? To spew nothin' but bullshit through your teeth? To scare her? You were tryna get her to confess to something she didn't do to make things easier for you."

Soap steps into the office, his own anger rising.

"That's not true. I tried to do my job. You find out there's a rat, you see the pile of evidence, and any rational person would follow the trail. S'not my fault you're shaggin' the broad 'n now you can' think for your bloody self."

Ghost is on his feet before the man is finished speaking, stalking toward him.

"That's enough, MacTavish," He growls, glaring down at the man.

"You're dismissed. Get outta my office."

Clenching his jaw, Soap turns and leaves without another word.

Sighing, Ghost sits back down and puts his face in his hands.

He knew his teammates had their doubts, but he never realized how deep that distrust went.

After a moment, Simon glances up at the vent in his office where he knows you sat listening to the entire exchange.

"I'll fix this, Mouse. I promise," he whispers.

Flipping the folder open again, he pours himself back into it, reading over everything. Every name, every date, every location, and every piece of information that got leaked.

Finally, after what feels like hours, he finds a comonality other than you.

"Mouse? You still with me? Knock once for yes, twice for no."

He listens patiently, and eventually, you knock once on the vent.

"Perfect. Now, I want you to follow the sound of my feet, okay? We're leaving my office."

Again, one knock greets him.

He rises from his desk and leaves his office, walking slowly and making just enough noise for you to be able to follow him from your place in the ceiling.

He leads you this way and that, finally coming to a halt in a utility closet.

Pushing the ceiling tiles out of the way, he climbs up on a few boxes and sticks his head into the ceiling, his heart easing when he catches sight of you again.

"You okay?"

You nod, crawling toward him.

"Come down here."

You obey, slowly climbing out of the hole in the ceiling and gasping when his strong arms wrap around you.

He holds you in an embrace far longer than he normally does, then tilts your chin up and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

"I think I've figured it out, little one. But I need something from you in order to prove it."

You nod eagerly, desperate to clear your name.

He sighs and nods once, then opens the door to the utility closet, looking both ways to make sure no one's around before motioning for you to follow him.

You do, staying only a half-step behind him as he leads you through a door and into a stairwell.

"This way."

You follow closely behind him as he leads you down a flight of stairs, looking around as much as you can as you try to figure out what his plan is, where he's taking you.

Finally, he leads you down another hallway and stops just outside of a door.

He looks at you, his eyes suddenly serious, far more serious than you've ever seen them, and you can't help the nervousness that chews at you.

You pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly as he places a hand on your cheek, cupping it gently.

"'M'gonna ask you to do somethin'... somethin' that I know you're not gonna wanna do. But I just... I need you to trust me on this, okay?"

Your brows pull together at his words.

"Okay..."

"Do you trust me?" He asks his free hand on the door handle.

He doesn't open it. He needs you to confirm out loud to him and to yourself before he opens the door.

You nod, looking between him and the door anxiously.

He grips your chin more firmly and forces your eyes to stay on his.

"I need you to look at me when you say it. Do you trust me?"

Your stomach flips and you need to wet your lips before speaking. Your skin crawls at this, at the intensity of his gaze, the unknown behind the door.

"I do. I trust you," you finally confirm.

He lets out an audible breath of relief, and then he's pushing open the door and your heart is falling into your stomach.

Immediately, you shake your head and take a step back, only for him to catch you and halt you in your tracks.

"No."

Simons sighs, tugging you forward gently. "Mouse, please."

You shake your head more firmly this time.

"No," you repeat, "I-I can't. I won't. No more cage."

Simon looks over to the holding cells with a heavy heart, then pulls his eyes back to yours.

"I know. But this... this is the only way. You need to trust me."

You yank free from his grip and take a step away from him as tears cloud your vision.

"I-I didn't do it. Why do you bring me here?"

You look at the cells then back to his eyes and shake your head once more. You thought you could trust him. You thought he trusted you.

"Please, Simon..."

He reaches for you, tries to pull you into an embrace, only for you to step away once more.

Where you'll go, you have no idea. You just know that you can't... you won't go back in a cage.

"Mouse, I promise you. Three days is all I need. And then I'll come let you out and you'll never have to look at this place again. I swear it."

"No."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He doesn't want to do this to you. If he could prove your innocence without this, he would. But he knows his team, his captain. He knows what it'll take to get the truth out.

"If we don't do this, they're gonna gas the building with you inside, and you'll die."

Your fiery gaze finally returns to his and for a moment he wishes it didn't.

"I'd rather die than go back in cage."

His heart cracks in his chest.

"Please, Mouse. For me. Please. Trust me, just this once."

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the cell, eyes getting distant as horrible memories of a past you long to forget creep up on you.

Finally, you suck in a sharp breath and turn to look at him again.

"Three days?"

He nods immediately, his shoulders relaxing while his eyes soften.

"Yes. Three days at most, I promise. I swear, on the memory of my nephew, three days."

Reluctantly, you walk forward, looking at every cell before stepping into the one in the corner. The largest and the darkest.

Your shoulders are tight by your ears as you look around.

It has a thin mattress on the ground and a toilet in the corner. Over half the cell is shrouded in darkness, and the other half is in direct view of the door.

It's bigger than the cage you grew up in, but the sick feeling doesn't leave your stomach as your freedom is brutally ripped from you once again.

Simon squeezes his eyes shut as he closes the door behind you, his heart hurting.

Knowing what he does about you, about your past, this feels like the ultimate betrayal. Arguably one of the worst things he could put you through.

But he needs to.

You flinch at the sound of the lock clicking, not turning to face him even as tears start to trickle down your cheeks.

"Mouse..."

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt at comfort.

"Go," you whisper.

You don't want him here, watching you like some caged dog.

His hands wrap around the bars of your cell as he tries to get you to understand.

"It's not permanent, I swear."

"Go!" You snarl, a hiccuped sob following your words.

And just like that, the floodgates open.

You press your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but you can't hide the shake of your shoulders, the way you curl in on yourself.

It breaks his heart.

Silently, he takes a step back, then another, and another, pausing when he reaches the door.

"I'll be back for you. I promise."

~*~

Somewhere, somehow, between blinks, you fall asleep.

One moment you're closing your eyes to blink, the next you're waking up groggy and stiff.

Ghost stands at the door to your cell, a tray of food and a bottle of water in hand.

He needs to swallow the lump in his throat before he speaks, his heart breaking seeing you like this.

"I brought you food... thought you could use some company."

You're curled up in a ball in the corner of the cell, eyes teary and red as you glare at him.

He put you here.

It kills what's left of his soul to see you like this.

"Things are coming together, won't be much longer now, I promise."

You say nothing, only keep your icy cold glare focused on him as he sets the food down and slides it through the opening at the base of your cell.

The sound of your sniffles plagues him, and he wishes none of this happened in the first place.

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes sad, before turning and leaving you alone once again.

When he finds out who's framing you, he's going to have his fun with them.

You're alone for only a few moments before the panic sets in once more.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you struggle to suck in short gasps of oxygen, nails scratching at your neck as you search desperately for your necklace, for the one item that's ever made you feel safe.

Tears run like rivers down your cheeks and you moan out your sorrows.

What would your mother think if she saw you?

She sacrificed everything, everything, for you to leave one cage only for you to willingly walk into another.

You shake your head at yourself, at your foolishness.

This was probably their plan all along. They probably know your father, they've probably gone to get him.

Scrambling to the tray of food, you grab the knife and desperately try to pry at the lock of your cell. When that proves fruitless, you jam the blade into the hinges, sobbing hopelessly.

The knife slides against the metal and finds its way to your thigh, slicing you nice and deep.

You hiss at the pain and drop the blade, stumbling backward then sliding down the wall.

It's useless. There's no escaping.

You start to feel dizzy as your thoughts overwhelm you, and before you know it you're whispering soft apologies and prayers in your mother tongue. Begging for peace, for freedom.

As you whisper the words, something dawns on you.

From the moment of your birth, you were promised nothing but pain. And life was only too eager to oblige; bestowing upon you torment after torment, loss after brutal loss.

Until finally, you broke free. You found your salvation, your Ghost, only for him to be another painful reminder that freedom is not something you were ever meant to taste.

~*~

Price meets Ghost in the boardroom at a ripe 0500hrs the following day, a steaming cup of coffee in a paper cup held tightly in his grasp.

Soap follows shortly after, on high alert.

Gaz trickles in last, the least tense of the three and possibly the most innocent in Ghost's eyes.

"So?" Price asks, looking around the empty room.

"Where's my rat?"

As if on cue, there's a firm knock on the door.

Ghost slaps the tablet he was holding against Price's chest and makes his way to the furthest corner of the room, content to spectate.

"Come in," Price says gruffly, eyes dropping down to the tablet in his hands.

His brows draw together, and then he's looking up at the newcomer.

"Corporal Matthews."

The young man salutes his superiors, then steps into the room, looking around curiously.

"What's going on?"

Price has already pieced it together, giving a short nod to the masked man in the corner.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Gaz and Soap exchange glances, the former shutting the door and leaning against it, blocking any form of escape.

The Corporal chuckles nervously and looks between the three men before swallowing hard when Price steps forward.

"So... you think it's funny what you've been doing? Care to explain to me what exactly you find so fucking funny about this?"

Soap clenches his jaw, dread bubbling in his stomach.

A sick part of him hopes Ghost is wrong, that Matthews isn't the rat, if only to absolve him of the guilt he's sure will eat him alive after all he did to you. All he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Enough with that, son. We know it was you. Don't make this more difficult than it already is," Price whispers. In his eyes is none of the anger that was there when he spoke to you. No, instead there's nothing but disappointment.

Simon's anger will be enough to cover the whole team, and then some.

"Well, what about the Lieutenant's whore? Huh?" Matthews defends, glaring at the men. They bristle at the words, eyes darting to the hulking man hiding in the shadows in the corner.

"Funny how you knew exactly what we were talkin' about," Soap says, stepping forward and squaring up with the man.

So it's true. He was wrong about you. And he has no idea what he's going to do to fix it.

Price hands the tablet to Matthews and watches as realization dawns on him slowly.

On the screen is live video footage of the holding cells where a familiar mouse is curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth.

"She's been in there for days. This latest leak? Happened last night. Couldn't've been her. We set you up, and you took the bloody bait."

"Well it's her fault anyway!" Matthews suddenly explodes, tossing the tablet onto the table angrily.

"If she wasn't fuckin' the Lieutenant then Jacobs would still be alive! If he didn't have his face in her snatch every night, he'd see that she's a fuckin problem!"

Silence hangs heavily in the room for a long moment as Ghost rises to his feet and slowly approaches the other man.

"You wanna tell 'im that?" Price asks, nodding over the Corporal's shoulder.

He glances back then does a double take, spinning around and backing up only to run right into Soap.

Ghost stops right in front of him, glaring down at the man.

Corporal Matthews tries to hold his ground, to not be intimidated by the huge man in front of him, but he's seen firsthand what this man -this beast- is capable of.

"Didn't get to have my fun with Jacobs, prick died quick. But you can bet 'm'gonna take my time with you."

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