#this emerged as a joke for a book | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintobio · 10 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing.

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort.

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him.

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you.

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.”

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?”

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.”

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.”

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.”

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.”

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.”

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses.

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.”

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point.

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free.

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.”

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over.

“Mmh… I want you.”

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise.

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds.

“Haaah!”

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.”

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?”

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.”

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you.

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.”

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more.

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange.

This was the most erotic you had been with him.

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.”

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.”

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!”

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!”

“Faster?”

“S-Sylus!”

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.”

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle.

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.”

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her.

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead.

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were.

“You shouldn’t.”

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you.

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head.

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood.

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood.

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion.

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.”

“Roger that, boss.”

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you.

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!”

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line.

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?”

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you.

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.”

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.”

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying.

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…”

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen.

Like a good girl, for him. Always.

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?”

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms.

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly.

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.”

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—”

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.”

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?”

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub.

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal.

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way.

“Caw! Caw!”

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you?

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone?

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?”

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.”

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy.

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.”

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.”

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside.

Why? Why can’t it be me?

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him.

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!”

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach.

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go?

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath.

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked.

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

SECOND PART

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus smut #sylus fic #lads smut #lads angst #lads sylus

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nanaslutt · 11 months ago

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welcome to my 2nd smau mlist!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

౨ৎ feel free to send an ask to my inbox if u have an idea for a smau (no suggestive prompts for under 18 characters) ౨ৎ

jjk smaus

✿ waiting outside the car for their boner to go down

✿ asking them if they can feel ur 😽 twitch when you sit on them

✿ gun to ur head me or —

✿ posting a thirst trap online that only they can see

✿ telling them you’re ready to try oral

✿ accidentally liking a photo of theirs

✿ telling them ur parents wanna meet them

✿ their reactions to you packing their lunch

✿ them being jealous over ur shitty boyfriend

✿ asking them to join you in the shower

✿ leaving them money after a 1 night stand

✿ calling them bro

✿ their reactions to your weird cravings

✿ sending them ur location bcs they’re taking too long to come over

✿ wearing their clothes

✿ asking to workout with them

✿ when you fall asleep in the middle of sex

✿ asking them to be rougher in bed

✿ recreating a sex scene from a book

✿ when you take a nap and they think you’re ignoring them

✿ asking them how often they jerk off

✿ flashing them and running away

✿ asking them to help you pick out an outfit but the last option is a nude

✿ asking to paint their nails

✿ asking if they’ve ever sent ur nudes to anyone

✿ “i need a hug”

✿ telling them “you have a pretty face, you should let me sit on it”

✿ telling them “you could’ve been nicer to me today”

✿ their reactions to ur teenager telling you to shut up

✿ “hey bitch what’s for dinner”

✿ having a wet dream about them

✿ their reaction to you leaving a toothbrush at their house

✿ when they’re sick and whiny

✿ asking them if they would cheat on you to save your life

✿ txting them “i expect my dinner to be ready be the time i get home

✿ slamming the door really hard prank

✿ telling them a guy friend is gonna fix ur pipes/car

✿ catching them fall on the ring camera

✿ telling them you got in a fight and need them to fight their boyfriend

✿ how they act when you’re sick

✿ them jealous over ur new pet

✿ asking them for help when ur tampon string breaks

✿ asking them what the weirdest thing they stuck their dick in is

✿ when you reject their cooking

✿ them obsessed with ur pet

✿ asking them if they’d help you hide a body

✿ going into labor while they’re at work

✿ asking them what size condoms to get

✿ them texting you after you die

✿ asking if they’d suck dick to save their life

✿ putting a dirty note in their lunch

✿ when they fall asleep right after sex

✿ telling them u wanna try deepthroating for the first time

✿ asking them to say ur name while they do pushups

✿ them asking “what did i do to deserve you?”

✿ asking what their rice purity score is

✿ sending them an ultrasound to tell them you’re pregnant

✿ asking them if you can take control in bed

✿ not saying i love you back prank

✿ asking what they want for your anniversary

✿ asking if they know where ur phone is when ur on it

✿ putting them on a sex ban

✿ telling them ur not wearing any panties in public

✿ showing off ur new nails by cupping ur tits

✿ doing their makeup while they sleep

✿ “hey handsome/beautiful, those tits sure look heavy…”

✿ jumping out of a car in the middle of an argument

✿ telling them you’re nervous for your first date

✿ wearing pheromone perfume around them

✿ them watching you though the house cameras

✿ telling them no to sex because you haven’t shaved

✿ “I wish you lasted half as long as it takes you to text me back”

✿ when you laugh too hard at someone else’s joke

✿ the jjk characters as ur sugar daddy/mommy

✿ period madness

✿ asking if they’ve tried their own cum

✿ when you’re their sugar mommy

✿ asking to tie a bow around their bicep

✿ when they check your location and see you’re in another country

✿ when you give a creep their number instead of yours

✿ telling them they have grey hairs

✿ asking them to chase you with a ghost face costume on

✿ asking them if you can take sex slow

✿ asking if they can put you as their emergency contact

✿ seeing them across the room with a hard-on

✿ asking how they feel about you starting an onlyfans

✿ watching you perform

✿ telling them you’re going to bed without panties

✿ sending a video of your baby kicking

✿ go ahead and leave them drawls at the door

✿ asking them to massage your boobs

✿ when they get caught taking pervy pics of you

✿ accidentally messaging them while talking about them

✿ when they finish too quick

✿ surprising them with gifts

✿ doing silly stuff to them in their sleep

✿ asking if they miss you right after they left

✿ asking if they’ve ever gotten off to the thought of you before you were together

✿ asking them to do a matching halloween costume

✿ “hey short king”

#i hit 100 links on mlist 1 so i had to make more room :3 #here’s to 100 more ^3^

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adelheidvonschicksal · 5 months ago

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Frowny Face

Summary: Nobara and Itadori try to figure out the similarities between Megumi and his son. They manage to find that the infamous Zen'in frowny face is a dominant trait.

Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, Humor, Fluff, SFW, 1200 wc

Notes: I had this drafted for weeks. After seeing the epilogue and the grandkids, wish I had posted sooner, I felt there wasn't a more appropriate time for this. Happy belated-birthday 'gumi.

“No, no, look again, he definitely has his eyes,” Itadori points out.

Nobara lowers her face towards the baby currently blinking at the two of them from the comfort of his plush crib. Megumi stands off to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest and an increasingly spreading scowl as his two friends, if he could call them that right now, poke and prod at his kid.

Nobara was the first one to point out how much his child was growing and starting to resemble his parents before noticing that his new emerging features leaned heavily to your side of the family, leading to this search to pick out their similarities.

“I’m not seeing it,” Nobara disagrees, failing to find the hint of dark blue that Itadori swears he can see in the baby’s right pupil. To her, all she can see is black all the way through both eyes, like the majority of the Zen’in clan geezers from those centuries old family books she helped Maki trash; unfortunately, this didn't include Megumi so they couldn't even count it. With a hand on her hip, she turns to Megumi. “Sheesh, he doesn’t resemble you at all. The misses really said copy and paste, huh?”

Megumi huffs, about three seconds away from shooing them into the kitchen where you’re making dinner. That’s until Itadori pipes up, “Sure he does.” And for a second, Megumi thinks they’ll finally drop this silly discussion. “He has the same grumpy face his dad does.”

Megumi sighs. He should’ve known better.

“Now that you mention it,” Kugisaki can barely contain her laughter as she reaches into the crib and gently pinches a chubby cheek. Your son makes no expression at her playful squeeze or poke to his belly. His tiny legs kick the same way any other baby would when tickled, but the flat line on his face refuses to budge. “This is the least smiley baby I’ve ever seen,” she concludes while Itadori nods in agreement as he goes in to tickle the baby’s foot – just to make sure.

Megumi knows the two idiots don’t mean any harm by it, being the person to receive the brunt end of their jokes and observations over his life, the kind that can only be made out of innocent obliviousness and overconfidence, but he can’t help but feel more defensive when it’s his kid.

“Do you two have nothing better to do than to shame a baby?” he gripes. “It’s late, go home.”

“Oh, lighten up, we were only teasing. He’s adorable,” Nobara dismisses as she notes how much bigger her future-partner-in-crime has become over the past few months. Looking back on it, she can’t recall any time she’s heard him laugh or much of anything. Sure, she’s seen him get fussy while babysitting, but she’s rarely heard him cry. “But you have to admit he isn’t very expressive…for a baby,” she mentions with a hint of concern, concern that isn’t needed from Megumi’s point of view.

“Maybe you two just aren’t funny,” he says, watching the way Itadori attempts to get his son to laugh by making silly faces; it results in little more than a fist full of pink hair getting tugged.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” she tilts her head, trying to word it delicately. “Does he smile at all?”

Megumi nods. “He smiles.”

“Does he?” Itadori presses, craning his neck as he struggles to free his hair.

“He does,” Megumi repeats, his eyes softening at the memory of that innocent and joyful giggle he first heard like an unimaginable dream come true. “It’s just when you’re not around.”

Nobara rubs at the back of her neck apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense by it. He’s a good baby,” she compliments before moving to help free Itadori’s hair from his iron-like grip. “And strong too,” she adds, looks at him, and clicks her tongue when she once again fails to find the bit of blue Itadori mentioned earlier, but it provides an opportunity to cut through the awkwardness they unwittingly created. She fakes a sigh. “Unlike your genes. I don’t think they even had a battle plan.”

“Very funny,” he puffs out between their chuckles then he hears another voice coming from the direction of the kitchen.

“That’s not true,” you say as you pad into the room with a milk bottle in hand, the grin on your face trembling as you try not to laugh with them. “They have a lot in common.” You begin to list off on your fingers. “They both like the same fruit and animals, he really likes books when you read to him, and do you think his hair maintains itself?”

Nobara breathes out an "oh" at your explanation. “So, he gets mom's good looks to balance out dad's aloof personality? Makes sense."

Your resistance breaks as you let out a giggle, ignoring the pout on your husband’s face. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“No, we should really get going,” Nobara states with a small yawn. “Mission reports won’t write themselves.”

You nod, handing Megumi the bottle of milk as you walk the others to the door and wave them off.

“Have a good night,” Itadori calls out while Nobara makes you promise to phone her tomorrow and to come hang out if you’re free.

Locking the door, you walk back in and head towards the crib.

“You really shouldn’t entertain them when they get like that," Megumi reminds you.

“You know they only do it to mess with you. It’s how they show they like you.”

“You mean they’re idiots.”

“Yet you open the door right up every time they come over.”

Megumi gives you a doubtful look. “Not by choice. It’d be like trying to stop a rampaging bull from barging in,” Megumi states, and you let out an amused huff.

No matter how much he complains and comments that they haven't changed one bit after leaving school, he enjoys them. You remember how excited he seemed when Itadori called to ask if it was okay to pop in since they were nearby. Well, excited in that he immediately started to straighten out the house even though he had already cleaned earlier that morning. It's cute little quirks that often gives him away and the ones that make you like him even more.

“If it makes you feel better, I think you have a great personality and good looks,” you compliment with a brush of your hand over his hair. You look down at your son, who still seem unmoved by all the events of the evening. It makes you laugh because Nobara and Itadori were right. Your son does have Megumi’s ever-dull facial expression.

“And both my boys have the cutest frowny faces,” you say, holding up your son to your face to nuzzle his nose. As you pull him away, your eyes brighten at the wide smile that flashes on his face followed by a warm giggle. “Hello to you too,” you coo and cuddle him again, causing another fit of giggles to fill the room, and the sound resonates in his chest and makes him forget any problems that arose on the way to getting to this point in his life.

“You forgot to tell them one thing,” Megumi says, coming forward to kiss your temple. As he told the others, his son does smile, and Megumi does too. “They both smile when they see mommy.”

#megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro

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flux1563 · 1 month ago

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Biggest secret

Words : 7381

Tags : squirting, tied up, a lot of fingering, BWC, creampie

"Wonyoung, we're going to be so late," Yujin called out, her voice echoing through the bustling airport.

Wonyoung, the ever-calm member of the K-pop group, glanced at her watch. "We've got five minutes," she said with a gentle smile. "Breathe, Yujin."

They were two young women about to embark on a much-needed vacation. Famous for their talents, their faces graced billboards and magazine covers across Asia. Yet here they were, trying to navigate the unfamiliar European airport as inconspicuously as possible. Their fans had no idea they were even on the same continent.

Their manager had assured them that this trip was off the books, a chance to let their hair down and enjoy the continent without the pressure of performances or appearances. They had packed light, eager to leave their glammed-up personas behind. Wonyoung, with her sharp features and piercing gaze, had swapped her usual high ponytail for loose waves that fell around her shoulders. Yujin, on the other hand, had opted for a more dramatic change, dying her hair a soft pink and trading her stage outfits for comfortable streetwear.

The air was thick with excitement as they stepped out into the warm embrace of the afternoon sun. The cobblestone streets of the city stretched out before them, a canvas of history and culture waiting to be explored. They had a map, a basic grasp of the language, and a list of must-see spots. But what they hadn't anticipated was the encounter that would change their lives forever.

As they approached a quaint café, a man emerged, his 6'3" frame casting a long shadow. His eyes, a piercing blue, met Wonyoung's and she felt an immediate jolt of attraction. He was ruggedly handsome, with a strong jawline and a mop of curly hair that danced in the breeze. Yujin's cheeks flushed as she took in his casual yet confident stride. The two women couldn't help but stare.

"Ladies, are you okay?" he asked in a rich, accented voice that sent shivers down their spines. His name was Y/N, a local artist who had recognized the subtle signs of lost tourists. They nodded, trying to play it cool despite their racing hearts. He offered to help them find their way around the city, an offer they eagerly accepted.

Wonyoung and Yujin found themselves drawn to his easy charm and the way his eyes twinkled with mischief. As they walked, Y/n pointed out hidden gems that weren't on their itinerary. They laughed at his jokes, feeling a sense of freedom that was rare in their usual tightly-scheduled lives. The tension grew as they shared glances, each one loaded with unspoken desires. The energy between them was palpable, and it wasn't just the heat of the day that was making them sweat.

When he invited them to his penthouse, they didn't hesitate. The elevator ride was filled with nervous giggles and sly glances, their hearts pounding in unison. The penthouse was a stunning blend of modern architecture and antique charm, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the cityscape. They felt like they were stepping into a different world, one where the only rule was to enjoy themselves.

As they settled in, Y/n suggested they stay with him for the duration of their vacation. He promised them privacy and a chance to experience the city like locals. The thought of escaping the watchful eyes of their fans and the suffocating bubble of their celebrity lives was too tempting to resist. Plus, the thought of getting to know him better was an alluring prospect that neither of them could ignore.

The next day, they set out early, their excitement palpable as they wandered through the cobblestone streets, the smell of freshly baked bread and blooming flowers filling the air. Y/n led them to a hidden market where the vibrant colors of the produce popped against the ancient buildings. They sampled cheeses that melted on their tongues and tasted wines that sang of the region's rich heritage. The sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over their exploration.

As the evening approached, they returned to the penthouse, their senses filled with the day's adventures. The city had come alive with the setting sun, its vibrant energy seeping into their very souls. They decided to embrace the local nightlife, eager to let their hair down even further. Y/n pulled out an assortment of fine wines and beers, setting the stage for a night of relaxation and camaraderie.

The drinks flowed freely, and soon enough, Yujin and Wonyoung's inhibitions began to wane. They giggled and whispered to each other, their cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the excitement of their secret escape. Y/n, who had been nursing his drink more slowly, watched them with a knowing smile, enjoying their playfulness.

"You know, we have a fantasy," Yujin slurred, her eyes glancing coyly at Y/n. "A... a really big one."

Wonyoung's eyes widened for a second, then she giggled, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice a little unsteady. "A... a big white cock."

Y/n's smile grew wider, and his eyes darkened with desire. He leaned in closer, his breath warm on their necks. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Well, I've got something that might just live up to your... fantasy."

The room grew hotter as the words hung in the air. Wonyoung's heart raced, and she felt a pool of wetness forming between her legs. Yujin bit her lower lip, her eyes never leaving Y/n's. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice a soft whisper.

With a knowing smirk, Y/n stood and began to unbutton his shirt, his muscular chest coming into view as the fabric fell away. The two K-pop stars watched in awe as he revealed a sculpted body that could have been chiseled by the gods themselves. His skin was a warm, golden hue, kissed by the sun. He approached them, his confidence a tangible force in the room.

"Gentlemen prefer blondes," he murmured, reaching into a drawer and pulling out two lengths of soft, velvety rope. "But I have a feeling I might make an exception for you two."

With surprising gentleness, Y/n approached Yujin first. Her eyes were wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he took her wrists in his firm grip. He deftly wound the rope around them, securing them to the chair's arms with a series of quick, precise movements. He made sure the knots weren't too tight, but just tight enough to keep her in place. The soft fabric of the rope was a stark contrast to the cold metal of the chair, sending a thrill through her body.

Next was Wonyoung. She watched with bated breath as he approached, her heart pounding in her chest. He knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he bound her ankles to the chair legs. The way he moved was mesmerizing, a dance of dominance and care that had her panting with anticipation. He then reached for her wrists, wrapping the rope around them in the same expert manner as before. He tied them to the chair's back, making sure she was as secure as Yujin.

The two friends sat there, bound and helpless, their breaths coming in short gasps. The room was filled with a new kind of tension, one that was palpable and electrifying. They had never felt so exposed and yet, strangely, so alive. Their eyes locked on Y/n as he stepped back to admire his handiwork, his gaze roving over their bodies with a hunger that was almost tangible.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with lust. "Ah, yes, your fantasy. Tell me more about this... 'big white cock' you've been dreaming of."

Wonyoung's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, and Yujin bit her lip to stifle a moan. They exchanged a look that spoke volumes, and with a nod from Wonyoung, Yujin began to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "We... we've always wondered what it would be like. To have someone so powerful and in control, to give us pleasure beyond what we've ever known."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam entering them. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of Wonyoung's jaw. "And what makes you think I can give you what you're looking for?" he whispered, his thumb brushing against her plump bottom lip.

Wonyoung's breath hitched, her eyes never leaving his. "We've seen your pictures," she said, her voice low and seductive. "We know you can handle two eager mouths."

With a smug smile, Y/n leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck, eliciting a soft moan. His tongue snaked out, tracing the line of her collarbone and down to the swell of her chest. He could feel her pulse racing under his lips, the heat of her body beckoning to him. His hand slid under her shirt, cupping her breast firmly.

He stepped back, his gaze lingering on the two bound women before focusing on Yujin. He approached her with the same deliberate grace, his eyes burning with a hunger that matched their own. He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss that stole her breath away. His other hand reached for the hem of her shirt, lifting it up to expose her midriff. His tongue traveled down, tracing the curve of her belly button, making her squirm in her seat.

Their moans grew louder as he continued to explore their bodies with his mouth. He kissed and licked every inch of exposed skin, savoring the taste of them. His teeth grazed Wonyoung's nipple, eliciting a high-pitched whine from her as she arched her back, trying to get closer. Meanwhile, his hands had moved to Yujin's thighs, his thumbs teasing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of her shorts.

He moved back to Wonyoung, his tongue flicking over her erect nipple before switching to the other one. He took his time, savoring the sounds of her pleasure. Wonyoung's eyes were closed, lost in the sensation of his mouth on her body. He knew she was wet, he could see the evidence staining the crotch of her pants, and the scent of her arousal filled the air.

Yujin watched, her own desire building as she felt the heat of his breath against her skin. She could feel the wetness seeping through her underwear, a testament to the effect his words and actions had on her. When he finally turned his attention to her, she was more than ready. He kissed along her neck, his teeth scraping against her sensitive flesh as he moved downward.

He pulled her shorts aside, exposing her to the cool air of the room. His tongue darted out, licking a slow, torturous path from her belly button to the top of her mound. She gasped, her body jolting in the chair. He didn't stop there, though. He pushed her legs apart, giving him full access to her soaking wet pussy. His tongue dipped into her folds, tasting her sweetness. Yujin's eyes rolled back in her head, her moans growing louder as he explored her with his mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, the soft wet noises of his tongue on their skin. He took his time, teasing and tormenting them both until they were begging for more. The ropes that bound them seemed to tighten with every passing second, their bodies straining against the restraints.

Y/n looked up, his eyes meeting theirs. "Ready to see if I can live up to your fantasy?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

Their eyes glazed with desire, they nodded frantically. The night was young, and they had a feeling it was going to be one they'd never forget.

Y/n stood, his gaze never leaving the two bound beauties before him. He unbuckled his belt with a smooth click, the sound echoing through the room. He unbuttoned his pants with a leisurely grace, the anticipation building as the zipper slowly descended. He pushed his pants and boxers down to reveal the monstrous 10 inches of BWC that had fueled their fantasies for so long. It stood proudly erect, a testament to his arousal.

He sauntered over to the sideboard, his eyes never leaving the girls. He picked up a sleek, black vibrator that lay there, charging with an eerie glow. "While I'm fucking one of you," he said, his voice thick with desire, "the other will watch, with this little friend here keeping her company."

Yujin and Wonyoung stared at each other, the competition in their eyes burning hot. They had shared so much together, but never had they competed for a man's attention quite like this. Yujin leaned forward, her bound breasts jiggling with the motion. "Me first, please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. Wonyoung's eyes narrowed, her chin tilting up in defiance. "No, she said, "my pussy is better than hers."

Y/n's smile grew even more wicked as he took in their slutty expressions. It was clear that the two friends had a wild side that was eager to be unleashed. He knew that this night was going to be one for the books, and he had the perfect plan to cater to their every desire. He stepped closer to Yujin, his cock hovering over her face. "You seem so eager," he murmured, tracing the tip of the vibrator along her cheek. "But remember, you're going to have to share."

Y/n positioned the vibrator at Wonyoung's entrance, her eyes wide with anticipation. He flicked it on and watched as her pupils dilated at the first touch of the buzzing toy. She moaned, the sound muffled by the fabric of the chair. He leaned down, his mouth inches from her ear. "You're going to watch," he whispered, "and you're going to imagine it's your mouth wrapped around me instead."

Turning his attention to Yujin, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her closer to his cock. She opened her mouth eagerly, taking the tip between her lips. He groaned, feeling her warmth and wetness as she began to suck. He could feel Wonyoung's eyes on them, her desire almost tangible. He pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock deeper into Yujin's mouth, watching as she struggled to take all of him.

"Fuck, he's so big," she murmured, her eyes watering as she tried to adjust to the size. Wonyoung's breath hitched, her own desire growing as she watched her friend's face contort with pleasure and pain. Y/n's cock was indeed massive, and the sight of it stretching Yujin's mouth was incredibly arousing. She knew it was only a matter of time before she felt that same fullness herself.

Y/n watched with hooded eyes as Yujin's cheeks hollowed with effort, her mouth straining around his thickness. Despite her inexperience with a cock so substantial, she took him in with surprising enthusiasm, her eyes watering but never leaving his gaze. He reached down to stroke her hair, whispering words of encouragement as she choked and gagged, her throat tightening around him.

"U can take it, baby," he coaxed, his voice low and reassuring. "Just relax, breathe through your nose."

Wonyoung watched as Y/n's cock slid in and out of Yujin's mouth, the vibrator inside her pulsing with an intensity that matched the throb of her own need. Her eyes never left the erotic dance of his hips as he fucked Yujin's face, the sight of her friend's submission sending shockwaves through her body. The vibrator inside her was a poor substitute, but it was all she had to cling to in that moment.

Y/n's eyes flickered between them, his grip tightening in Yujin's hair as he picked up the pace. "Glukk glukkk glukkk," he groaned, the wet sounds of his cock filling the room. "Your mouth is so good and tight, baby."

He began to fuck her face more aggressively, his hips snapping forward with a ferocity that made her eyes water. The vibrator inside Wonyoung buzzed away, the sensation amplified by her friend's desperate sucking sounds. She felt her own orgasm building, the pressure in her core growing tighter with each thrust of the artist's hips.

Y/n's grip on Yujin's hair tightened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he approached climax. His abs tensed, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. The room was filled with the sound of wet suction and the muffled gasps of the two bound women. Yujin's eyes grew wider, her cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, her throat muscles working overtime to accommodate his size.

The moment came, and with it, a torrent of cum shot into Yujin's mouth. She struggled to swallow, her cheeks puffing out as rope after rope of white hot liquid filled her. It was too much, too fast. Cum began to leak from the corners of her mouth, dribbling down her chin and onto her chest. Wonyoung watched, her own orgasm cresting at the sight of her friend's submission.

Wonyoung pussy clenched around the vibrator, and with a cry, she came, her juices spurting out onto the chair beneath her. The vibrator's relentless buzzing only heightened her pleasure, sending wave after wave of ecstasy through her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed his name, the sound echoing off the penthouse walls.

Y/n pulled the vibrator out of Wonyoung with a wet pop, her cum dripping down the shaft. He didn't even bother to wipe it clean before sliding it into Yujin's eager pussy, her legs still spread wide from her own oral ministrations. She let out a moan that was half-surprise, half-ecstasy as the toy filled her up. The artist's cum was still warm on her chin and chest, mixing with her saliva and sweat.

"Now is ur turn, Wonyoung," he said, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "Take it like the good slut u are."

Y/n stepped back, his cock glistening with a mix of precum and Yujin's spit. He approached Wonyoung with the same predatory gaze, his hands reaching for her bound wrists. "Prove to me," he said, his voice a low growl, "that you're the better cocksucker."

Wonyoung looked him dead in the eye, her own hunger palpable. She didn't need any further encouragement. As soon as the ropes were loosened, she leaned forward, her mouth open wide. Y/n stepped closer, positioning his cock at her eager lips. Without a moment's hesitation, she took him in, all inches disappearing into her mouth.

The sound of "Glukk glukk glukk" filled the penthouse, a rhythmic symphony of her mouth's submission to his length. Wonyoung's eyes watered as she worked his shaft, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. She took him deep, her throat muscles constricting around his cock, and he watched with rapt attention as she took his entire length.

"You're so much better," he moaned, his hands tangling in her hair. "So tight, so good." His words were like gasoline to the fire of their competition. Yujin, whose pussy was still pulsing around the vibrator, watched with a mix of envy and arousal. Her own mouth was sore, but she couldn't help but want to try again, to prove herself to him and to her friend.

But the night wasn't about competition anymore. It was about pleasure, raw and unbridled. Wonyoung's eyes watered as Y/n's cock slammed into her mouth, his hips moving with an intensity that bordered on brutal. She could feel his desire in every thrust, his need for her submission. Her throat was a tight ring of muscle that stretched around his thickness, and she reveled in the feeling of being used by this powerful man.

He groaned, his hands tightening in her hair. "Fuck, I'm going to cum in your throat," he growled, his voice thick with lust. Wonyoung moaned in response, her eyes never leaving his. She nodded, eager to take him all the way.

With a roar, Y/n's cock erupted, filling Wonyoung's mouth with hot, sticky cum. She swallowed as much as she could, but it was too much, too fast. Cum spurted out of her mouth and down her chin, covering her neck and chest. Yujin watched, her eyes wide with a mix of amazement and envy as Wonyoung's cheeks bulged with the effort to contain his seed. It was clear that Wonyoung had outdone herself, taking even more of his cum than Y/n had given her.

The vibrator inside Yujin's pussy hit just the right spot, sending her spiraling into her own orgasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body convulsed in the chair, her moans muffled by the ropes around her wrists. Her orgasm was intense, her muscles clamping down on the buzzing toy, her juices coating it. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction as she watched Wonyoung take her prize, even though her own mouth was empty.

As Wonyoung swallowed the last of Y/n's cum, Yujin felt the first spurt of her own juices. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Her pussy contracted, sending a geyser of liquid shooting into the air, drenching the chair and the floor beneath her. Wonyoung looked over, her eyes wide with surprise, and then with a wicked smile.

"Maybe you lost in the mouth, but I think your pussy is greater than Wonyoung's," Y/n said, his voice thick with lust. He leaned down, his cock still hard and glistening with saliva. He licked the cum from Yujin's chin before pressing his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. "Tell me, baby, does that make you feel good?"

Yujin whimpered into the kiss, the taste of their combined flavors swirling in her mouth. She could feel the heat of embarrassment mingling with the high of her recent orgasm. "Yes," she admitted, her voice small and needy. "It feels... amazing."

Y/n chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter sending shockwaves through her body. He pulled back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he surveyed his handiwork. The two idols were a mess of ropes and cum, their faces flushed and their chests heaving with each ragged breath.

"Enough for today," he murmured, his voice filled with a sense of finality. "I've got to save some for tomorrow." He began to untie Yujin and wonyoung, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Their wrists were red from the ropes, but she didn't flinch as they fell away. Instead, she leaned back in the chair, their legs still trembling from the aftershocks of orgasm.

They stumbled into the bathroom, still naked and sticky with cum. The shower was large and luxurious, with jets that could massage every inch of their bodies. They stepped inside, the warm water cascading down on them, washing away the sweat and the evidence of their earlier escapade. Their eyes met, and in that moment, any hint of competition was gone. They were just two friends, sharing a secret that no one else knew about.

Y/n took his time soaping them up, his hands gliding over their curves and valleys with the same gentle precision he had used when tying the ropes. He kissed their necks and whispered sweet nothings in their ears, making them feel cherished and desired. They giggled and played, the tension of their earlier encounter giving way to a newfound intimacy.

Once clean, they stumbled out of the shower, their bodies glistening with water droplets that clung to their skin like diamonds. He led them to the large, comfortable bed that dominated the penthouse's master suite. The sheets were cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies as they tumbled in, still wet from the shower.

Wonyoung, ever the tease, rolled onto her back and spread her legs with a wicked grin. "Yesterday, Yujin got the first taste," she purred, her voice husky with desire. "But today, I want your cock inside me first."

Y/n chuckled, his hand stroking his still-hard cock. "Beg for it, baby girl," he said, his voice low and seductive.

Wonyoung's smile grew even more wicked as she licked her lips. "Please," she murmured, her eyes never leaving his. "Please, fuck me first."

Y/n's grin widened, and with a swift move that belied his strength, he flipped Wonyoung onto her stomach. Her legs trembled with excitement, and she wiggled her ass in the air, silently begging for his attention. He took a moment to admire the view, her plump cheeks framing her glistening pussy. The scent of her desire filled the air, and he knew she was more than ready for him.

He leaned down, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her again. His tongue slid out, tracing a wet path from the base of her spine to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Wonyoung moaned, arching her back to give him better access. His tongue delved into her folds, lapping at her clit with a fervor that made her legs shake.

Y/n took his time, his tongue swirling and probing, teasing and taunting. He knew just how to make her squirm, just how to push her to the edge without sending her over. He felt her pussy clench around his tongue, and he chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive skin. He licked her with long, firm strokes, each one sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through her body.

Her moans grew louder, echoing through the penthouse suite. She was close, so close, but he wasn't done with her yet. He pulled back, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. "Beg for it," he murmured, his voice a dark promise.

Wonyoung's eyes were glazed with lust, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please," she whimpered. "I need it. I need you inside me i want it raw."

Y/n's grin grew wolfish. "So greedy," he murmured, his hand coming down to give her ass a firm slap. She yelped, but the sound was muffled by the pillow she had bitten down on. "But if you can't even wait your turn..."

Before Wonyoung could respond, she felt the pressure of his cock at her entrance. With one powerful thrust, he was inside her, filling her completely. Her scream was a mix of pleasure and pain as her body stretched to accommodate him. Y/n didn't stop, pumping into her with a ferocity that had her seeing stars.

The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Her pussy was so tight around him, and with each thrust, she could feel him hit a spot that made her toes curl. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt him reach depths that she didn't know were possible. "Oh, fuck," she screamed, her voice echoing in the large room.

Y/n's rhythm grew more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. He could feel the walls of her pussy clenching around him, trying to keep him in, as if afraid he'd pull out too soon. He leaned over, his chest pressing against her back, his cock going even deeper. "You like that?" he growled, his voice low and guttural. "You like having my big white cock inside you?"

Wonyoung could only nod, her voice lost to the intensity of her pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building again, the pressure in her core growing with every stroke. "Fuck me harder," she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I want to feel it in my stomach."

Y/n's hands tightened on her hips, and he complied, his cock slamming into her with a force that made her whole body shake. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by their gasps and moans. Y/n's cock was like a piston, moving in and out of her with a precision that was almost mechanical.

Y/n's thumb found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to fuck her. Wonyoung's moans grew louder, the pressure in her stomach unbearable. She felt like she was going to explode from the inside out. "Yes," she screamed, "yes, I can feel it in my stomach!"

Her orgasm washed over her, a tsunami of pleasure that had her entire body convulsing. Her pussy clamped down on him, her juices flooding the bed beneath them. Y/n grunted, his hips moving faster, his cock swelling even more as he approached his own climax. "Take it," he groaned, his voice tight with effort. "Take all of me."

Wonyoung's cries grew louder, her body writhing in ecstasy. Y/n's cock was a blur, his strokes so fast they were almost a blur. And then, with a final roar, he came. His cum flooded her, filling her up until it spurted out around his cock, coating her ass and the bed beneath them. She could feel the warmth of it, feel the power of his release.

As he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed, her legs trembling. "Fuck," she breathed, her voice weak. "That was... I don't have energy right now, i can't believe i can take 10 inches." Her pussy was still pulsing, her body still trying to come down from the high of that intense orgasm.

Y/n chuckled, turning to face Yujin, who had been watching the whole thing standing, her knees slightly bent and her own pussy visibly throbbing. "You're next," he promised, his eyes gleaming.

Yujin licked her lips, her gaze never leaving the artist's still-hard cock. She had never felt more desperate for anything in her life. The way Wonyoung had taken him, the sounds she had made... she wanted that. She needed that.

Wonyoung rolled onto her side, panting, and gave her friend a knowing smile. "Your turn," she murmured, her voice still thick with lust. "Show him how it's done."

The artist stalked over to Yujin, his cock bobbing with each step. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper.

Yujin nodded, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of fear. She had never been with a man this big before, but she had watched Wonyoung take him, and she knew she could do it too. She had to. For herself, for her friend, and for the thrill of the challenge.

He pushed her onto the bed, her body bouncing on the soft mattress. "Spread your legs," he ordered, his tone firm but gentle. She complied, her legs spreading wide, giving him full access to her pussy. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock glistening with Wonyoung's cum. "Look at me," he said, his eyes boring into hers.

Y/n pushed into her with a slow, deliberate movement that had her gasping. He was so thick, so full, and she could feel every inch as he filled her up. "Oh, God," she whimpered, her nails digging into the bed sheets. "It's so big."

He didn't rush, taking his time to let her adjust to his size. His eyes never left hers, the connection between them intense. "Breathe," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You can do this."

Y/n's cock stretched her further than she had ever been stretched before. She felt her body give way to his, her tightness enveloping him like a warm, wet glove. "So tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Tighter than Wonyoung."

Y/n began to move, his strokes long and deep, filling her to the brink with each thrust. The pain was exquisite, a delicious burn that she had never felt before. She watched in the mirror as her own pussy swallowed his cock, the sight of it making her even wetter. She reached down, her hand shaking as she touched her clit, her movements frantic.

"Fuck me," she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Fuck me like you did Wonyoung."

Y/n chuckled, his eyes dark with desire. "But you're not Wonyoung," he murmured, his cock teasing her entrance. "You're Yujin. And I'm going to make you feel things she never could."

With that, he pushed into her again, harder and faster than before. Yujin's body responded in kind, her pussy spasming around him as she felt her orgasm build. She had never squirted before, never felt that intense release of pleasure, but with each powerful thrust, she grew closer and closer.

Her hand worked her clit in a frantic rhythm, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The artist watched her intently, his eyes never leaving her face as he fucked her. He could feel her pussy tightening around him, the beginnings of her orgasm starting to pulse through her body. "Show me," he growled, his hips slamming into hers. "Show me what a squirting pussy looks like."

The room grew hazy around her, the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of his cock inside her and the pressure building in her core. And then, with a scream that was more animal than human, she did. Her pussy clenched down on him as a flood of liquid shot out, soaking the sheets and the both of them. It was a sensation like nothing she had ever felt before, a release that seemed to come from her very soul.

Y/n's eyes went wide with amazement. He had never seen a woman squirt like that before, especially not on his first try. "Fuck, baby," he breathed, his strokes becoming more erratic as he watched the show. "You're a squirting queen."

Yujin could feel her orgasm building again, her pussy spasming around him. She had never felt so alive, so wanted, so...used. It was intoxicating. "More," she moaned, her voice barely recognizable. "Please, don't stop."

The artist chuckled, his eyes gleaming. He knew he had her now, that she was his to do with as he liked. He picked up the pace, his cock slamming into her with a force that made the bedframe rattle. The sound of wet flesh slapping together filled the room, a symphony of lust that had Wonyoung watching with envy.

Y/n reached down, his thumb finding Yujin's clit again. He rubbed it in tight circles, feeling her body respond to his touch. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a high-pitched keening sound. She was close, so close.

"Cum for me," he growled, his cock pumping in and out of her with a ferocity that had her panting. "Let me feel your pussy milk me dry."

Y/n's thumb circled her clit with precision, the pressure building until she couldn't hold back any longer. Yujin's body bowed off the bed, her pussy contracting around his cock as another gush of liquid shot out, soaking him, the bed, and the floor. He groaned, the sensation of her squirting pushing him closer to the edge.

With one final thrust, he came deep inside her, his cum spurting into her womb. The feeling was indescribable, the heat of his seed filling her up in a way that made her feel complete. She could feel his cock pulse with each spurt, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. They stayed like that for a moment, locked together in the throes of passion, their bodies slick with sweat and cum.

As he pulled out, Yujin's pussy gaped open like the letter "O," the aftermath of his powerful release leaving her utterly exposed and vulnerable. Wonyoung's eyes widened at the sight, a mix of awe and envy. The artist chuckled, his cock still hard and gleaming with their combined juices. "Look what I did to her," he said, his voice filled with pride.

Y/n's eyes were hooded with desire as he took in the sight of Yujin's pussy, still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. He leaned down, his tongue tracing the edges of her swollen folds, tasting the sweetness of her cum. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Your pussy is a fucking work of art."

With a wicked grin, he reached out with his hand and lightly touched the sensitive bud of her clit. Yujin's body jerked in response, her breath catching in her throat. He began to tease her, his fingers dancing over her clit in a rhythm that was both maddening and exquisite.

Her eyes went wide as she felt the beginnings of another orgasm. She had never been this sensitive before, never felt like she could cum again so soon after such an intense release. But here she was, her pussy gushing and spasming as if it had a mind of its own.

Y/n watched in amazement, his eyes glued to the sight of her juices flowing out of her. "Again?"

Yujin nodded, her body trembling with the effort of staying conscious. "Yes," she gasped, her eyes glazed with desire. "I need... I need it."

With one final, gentle squeeze of her clit, the artist leaned back, watching as Yujin's body was wracked by another orgasm, this one even more powerful than the last. Her eyes rolled back, and she let out a scream that was cut off as she passed out, her body going limp beneath him.

Wonyoung's gaze flickered from Y/n to her unconscious friend, her own desire flaring anew at the sight of Yujin's pussy, still quivering and open from the intense pleasure. "Looks like she passed out," she murmured, a hint of sadness in her voice. "But her pussy's still wide open like 'O' for you."

Y/n chuckled, his smirk never leaving his face as he turned to face Wonyoung. "And now, it's your turn," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation. Wonyoung's eyes widened, a thrill of excitement coursing through her as she realized she was about to be the center of attention once again.

He crawled over to her, his still-hard cock bobbing with every movement. Wonyoung spread her legs, eager to feel him fill her up. But instead of entering her, he lowered his head, his tongue tracing a path along her inner thighs. She moaned, her body already sensitive from the earlier orgasms. He licked her slit, his tongue delving into her folds and tasting the sweetness of her desire.

Wonyoung's hips bucked, her body responding instinctively to the sensation. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Y/n, she knew she could let go completely, surrender herself to the pleasure he so expertly delivered. His fingers found their way inside her, pumping in and out with a steady rhythm that had her pussy clenching around him.

Her moans grew louder as he worked her over, his tongue and fingers in perfect sync. She could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, a pressure that was both exquisite and unbearable. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I can't take anymore."

Y/n's only response was to push harder, his tongue delving deeper, his fingers curling to hit her G-spot. Wonyoung's body was a tapestry of sensations, a maelstrom of pleasure that threatened to consume her. She felt like she was on the brink, about to shatter into a million pieces.

And then it hit her, an orgasm so intense that it stole her breath away. She screamed, her body arching off the bed as her pussy spasmed around his fingers. He didn't let up, his tongue still lapping at her clit, his fingers still pumping away. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a never-ending crescendo that left her trembling and gasping for air.

As the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the bed, her eyes fluttering shut. "No more," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't..."

But Y/n wasn't done with her. He slid his fingers from her pussy, bringing them to her mouth. "Taste yourself," he ordered, his voice firm. Wonyoung's eyes snapped open, and she took his fingers into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his. The taste of her own cum was surprisingly sweet, a heady cocktail of desire and satisfaction.

Her eyes glazed over as she sucked on his fingers, the sensation of his gaze on her making her stomach flip. He watched her intently, his own desire never waning. "Now, I want you to watch," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Wonyoung nodded, her cheeks flushing with arousal. She turned to face Yujin, her eyes locked on her friend's pussy as Y/n began to finger her once again. Y/n's movements were slow and deliberate, his eyes on Wonyoung's face as he watched for any signs of discomfort or distress. But all he saw was pure, unbridled need.

Wonyoung's body was a canvas of desire, her pussy swollen and glistening with her juices. Her hips began to rock in time with his fingers, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "Fuck," she whispered, her eyes never leaving Y/n's. "I'm going to cum again."

Y/n watched as Wonyoung's orgasm built, her body tightening around his hand. He could see the moment she lost control, her eyes rolling back in her head as she let out a scream that was more primal than anything he had ever heard. Her pussy clenched down, and she came hard, her juices spurting out to cover his hand and arm.

It was too much for her to handle. With a final, desperate whimper, Wonyoung's eyes rolled back, and she passed out, her body going slack. Y/n pulled his hand away, watching the aftershocks of her climax ripple through her. Her pussy was still spasming, her legs trembling slightly from the exertion. He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride at his handiwork.

The room was thick with the scent of sex, the air heavy with the sounds of their panting. Y/n looked down at his cock, still hard and demanding more. He knew he had to take a break, though. He had work to do, a canvas calling his name. He stood, his legs shaking slightly from the effort of holding back his own climax. "I'll be back soon," he murmured, his eyes lingering on the two passed out stars.

Leaving the sated girls on the bed, Y/n padded over to the en suite bathroom, his cock still standing tall despite the recent releases. He stepped into the massive tub, the warm water enveloping his body, and reached for the soap, his mind racing with the images of their shared pleasure. The scent of sex still lingered on his skin, a potent reminder of the power he had wielded over them. He began to cleanse himself, his hands moving over his chest, down his stomach, and finally to his still-hard member, which seemed to protest the interruption of its fun.

As he washed away the sweat and cum, his thoughts drifted to the unspoken challenge in their eyes. They had pushed each other, competed for his attention and affection, and he had reveled in it. The sight of their pussies, open like the letter 'O', was burned into his mind, a visual testament to the depths of their arousal and submission. It was a powerful image, one that stirred his creative soul and inspired a new painting in his mind.

He stepped out of the tub, water dripping from his sculpted body, and padded over to the bedside table, where he found a piece of paper and a pen. In the dim light, he scribbled a quick note. "I will come at night, take care of yourself," he wrote, the words a promise of the pleasure yet to come. He knew they wouldn't wake until morning, but the anticipation was part of the thrill. He placed the note on Yujin's pillow, knowing she'd find it when she woke up.

#yujin smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut

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stellamarielu · 4 days ago

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Stellaaaaaaaaa…. That new pic has killed me!

Jack Abbot in glasses and he’s all shy and embarrassed about it in front of his younger girlfriend bc he didn’t used to need glasses, it’s a sign he’s getting older and it reminds him of the age gap…

But his embarrassment doesn’t last long when she forces him to keep them on and watch her worship his old man cock and balls with her pretty young mouth

Ok I’m getting carried away, time to crawl back into my gutter!

IM SICK. Him laying next to you in bed…. with his glasses at the tip of his nose… yeahhh

Tossing and turning because you can’t sleep. Twisting over in bed to see Jack sitting up next to you, his back against the headboard with glasses at the end of his nose, silently reading in the dim light of the bedroom.

He could hear you rustling, eyes gazing to his right to find your face smushed against your pillow with heavy lids, watching him intently.

His glasses came off in one quick sweep.

Folding the arms of his readers one at a time, before swiftly placing them on his bedside table.

You'd seen him wear them before, mostly at night when he read, or sometimes he’d bring them out to look at something you were showing him on your phone, griping because “the font is so small, who the hell can even read that?”

He made it a point not to keep his glasses on for extensive periods of time when you were around. He made a joke once that they were his "old man glasses" and you wondered if Jack abbot— the confident and headstrong emergency department attending— maybe had a slight insecurity when it came to his age, especially in comparison with yours.

"Can't sleep?" His voice was low with a gentle scratch as he dog eared a page of his book before allowing it to rest on his lap.

You shook your head from side to side against the fluff of your pillow.

"Can't get comfy." The words were hollowed out by a sleepy rasp as you threw him your best over-exaggerated frown.

"Can I help?" It was a genuine inquiry, but the smirk on his lips gave away his true intentions. His hand slid across the sheets, finding your waist underneath the covers. But, before it could trail any further, you sat up slightly.

"That depends..." You began to respond with a smug grin of your own, leaning up on your elbow, reaching across his body to grab the glasses from his bedside table.

"you wanna put these back on?"

His eyes were glued to the readers in your hand, just sitting in your grasp as you held them out in front of him.

"My glasses?" There was a subtle laugh in his words as his brows knit together in confusion.

He didn't take them from your hand, just stared at them in amusement and disbelief.

You sat up further, taking the book from his lap and tossing it to the end of the bed, your body replacing its position as you straddled him, sitting back on his thighs.

"I like them." The tone of your voice was soft and slow as you took it upon yourself to place the readers back on the bridge of his nose.

"I think they're sexy."

"You're funny sweetheart." He was trying not to scoff as a shy grin stretched across his face, his head shaking subtly in disagreement.

"Don't believe me?" You shifted your weight, crawling down his body until your careful kisses found the skin just above the waistband of his boxers.

His hand moved, fingertips adjusting the glasses that were now sliding further down his nose as he watched you between his legs. You caught it out of the corner of your eye— his hand toying with his readers— and for a split second you thought he might take them off again.

"They stay on, or I stop." The threat sounded harmless as it purred into his lower abdomen, your fingers slowly pulling at his underwear.

He playfully raised his hands, surrendering to your command.

"Yes ma'am." He smiled as he spoke, but the sound of his voice was far raspier than it had been all night.

With hooded eyes hiding behind the black frames of his readers, he brought a hand down to tangle in your hair as you dragged his boxers down just enough to take the tip of his cock into your mouth.

His head fell back, thumping against the headboard, as he made a mental note to start wearing his glasses a little bit more.

Your head bobbed at his hips as you took him deeper toward your throat, causing a muffled groan to break free from his chest.

Okay, maybe a lot more.

#wrote this on my lunch break lmao #sorry if it’s lowkey shit #had to write something about jack abbot in glasses before i spontaneously combusted #jack abbot #the pitt #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot smut #jack abbot imagine #stellamarie chats! abbot

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silens-oro · 26 days ago

Text

Senior Citizen Behavior

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Reader Domestic fluff/Established Relationship

The Pitt Playlist located here

Synopsis: For the first time in a very long time, it isn't Robby who's coming home late after his shift. Word Count: 1,421 Content Warning: Age gap; No age specified, but I typically write readers with Robby or Abbot as 30+ in my mind. Tooth-rotting fluff. A/N: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble and ended up being a one-shot because I can't help myself when presented with an old man on a silver platter, so there's that.

please comment & reblog :)

It was just before 10pm when you quietly let yourself into the apartment you shared with Robby -a whole two and a half hours later than you were supposed to leave the office, but the end of the quarter was quickly approaching and extra hours were required to be put in by your entire team.

Gotta think of the shareholders, you thought bitterly to yourself as you shook the snow off of your head and toed your boots off at the door. Your bag and coat found their homes on the wall hooks in the entryway next to Robby’s jacket and bag, and you tiptoed down the hall to the soft glow coming from the living room.

Robby was an absolute sight when you caught a glimpse of him on the sofa. Mindful to step around the known creaky floorboards, you rounded the sofa to see what the damage was. He texted you earlier in the day that the first couple of hours of his shift were an absolute doozy, and when he called you on his way home he yapped about a fist fight that broke out between two patients who were there because of a fight that landed them in the ED to begin with.

"Round Two in the Emergency Department," he had said, still beside himself when the department turned into the set of Jerry Springer.

“Sounds like an episode title of It’s Always Sunny,” you joked into your desk phone as you typed into the blurring Smartsheet on your monitor that you had been working away on for the last three hours straight. You let him know that it was going to be a late night for you and to not wait up. He needed his beauty sleep.

It was a nightmare Robby was all too happy to leave in the hands of Dr. Jack Abbot and his (loving) freakshow of a night shift -they were more than equipped to handle it and Robby couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

All Robby wanted to do by the time he stepped out of those automatic doors and into the fresh air was get home, take a hot shower, eat a good meal, and wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor -and maybe put a movie on so he could fall asleep before the opening credits finished. It wasn’t too much to ask for, and yet Robby found he had the apartment all to himself because you (in an absolute rarity) ended up as the one who had to work late this time around, so he made due with what he had.

He took his shower and made a quick meal for the both of you before getting comfortable on the sofa with a book he started on his last day off. He got maybe three pages in, blinked once, and the next thing Robby knew, he was out. If you were there, he would’ve told you that he was just resting his eyes for a moment and he was definitely not asleep. No, he wasn’t snoring. All allegations were denied in this situation (that happened many times before), but you'd always give him a knowing smile with a sarcastic ‘sure' thrown his way.

Senior citizen behavior, you had joked once and he nearly smothered you with the weight of his body as he draped himself on top of you until you apologized through a fit of laughter.

Robby was sitting mostly upright on the sofa, leaning on a few throw pillows that propped his elbow up on the arm rest. He was in his comfy cardigan (the one he only wore at home after he had taken a shower) with his round readers hanging precariously on the tip of his nose and his latest book smashed flat against his chest. His feet, wearing coziest winter socks because the man was never barefoot in the house, were crossed ankle over ankle on the coffee table making his impossibly long legs appear to be even longer than they already were.

Robby’s head was tilted back just enough to make his mouth open the tiniest bit, allowing soft snores (that he would deny til he was blue in the face) to escape while he rested -blissfully unaware of his audience, and you couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped you even if you tried.

“Oh, you are never beating the senior citizen allegations now, Robby.” You teased in a whisper as you carefully removed the readers that were dangerously close to falling off the tip of his nose. You folded the arms carefully and set them on the side table next to the base of the lone lamp that illuminated the room, before gently prying the book from his (more than likely cramped) hand. The book itself was flat on his chest, pages splayed open on the last page he read -or attempted to, anyway. Not seeing a bookmark anywhere, you dog-eared the page and set it next to his glasses with care.

Robby grumbled incoherently when your palm came to rest on his bearded cheek. The dark circles that were starting to reappear under his eyes made your lips tilt down for a fraction of a second, knowing he was exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Between what happened with Pittfest just four months ago, and Frank’s situation that Robby blamed himself for (not for Frank using, but for Robby not seeing it until a first day intern pointed it out to him), and the goddamn Patient Satisfaction Scores he was constantly drilled about like the ED was a Primanti Bros. franchise -on top of whatever other bullshit Gloria threw at him, he needed to take some time to himself so he could disconnect -if only for a few days. The problem was that Robby wasn’t the type to disconnect. He felt an obligation because if not him, then who?

It hurt your heart to think of the weight Robby carried day in and day out, like he was Atlas carrying the sky on his shoulders, not because he needed to be punished, but because he needed to be useful and this was the only way he knew how to be. Robby was a great man with an enormous heart who constantly gave himself away at the expense of never getting those pieces back. And while you tried to replace what you could, for every piece you returned, two more were taken away in its place. The toll it took on him was getting more and more noticeable by the day, but still he trudged on. It’s who Robby was, and would always be.

Waking him up when you knew he needed the rest was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew if you left him on that couch he was liable to wake up with something out of alignment and that was the absolute last thing he needed.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead tenderly, then down to his nose, and finally landed on his ever so slightly parted lips (that he was 100% not snoring through). Robby’s eyes started to flutter and a sleepy grin tilted his lips up when he cracked them open and saw you standing over him.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You whispered, “I told you that you didn’t have to wait up for me. Your back is going to be screamin' at you.”

“Clearly I didn’t wait up,” He joked, groaning at how stiff he felt from sleeping in the position he was in. He yawned as he stretched his arms up, pulling his t-shirt up to reveal just the slightest sliver of his happy trail low on his stomach, and gently grabbed your hand to pull you down to the sofa so you could snuggle into his side.

Robby drowsily kissed the side of your head as you wrapped your arms around his middle, letting one of your hands slip underneath his soft cotton t-shirt to rub at his ribs affectionately. It didn’t take you very long into your relationship with Robby to figure out that skin to skin contact, specifically in a non-sexual setting, was something he craved. It was comforting and intimate in a way that grounded him and so it became a ritual whenever the two of you had brief moments together that you were more than happy to oblige in. It was never explicitly stated between you, he never asked for it, but you just knew and he loved you for it. “There’s a plate in the microwave for you. Figured you’d be starving when you got home.” His words were muffled because he still hadn't moved. You gently tilted your head up to look at him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were pronounced and you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was -especially when he was smiling. “Because I do. You’re the best.” You smiled up at him, giving him a loving peck. Robby let the kids linger, cupping your jaw to keep you close to him.

“I try.” He breathed against you, dodging the attention by pressing his forehead to yours. He found comfort in the lingering smell of your shampoo and the warmth that radiated off of you.

“You do more than try, Robby, and I will always appreciate that.” Again, you kissed him tenderly, your hand coming up to gently scratch at his beard. He gave you the stink eye when you laughed at the tiny groan he let out when you did it.

"I know you do, even if you are a pain in my ass. I love you all the more for it."

please comment & reblog :)

#dr robby x reader #dr robby imagine #the pitt #the pitt imagine #the pitt one shot #dr robby #michael robinavitch #michael robby robinavitch #fluff #x reader

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arafilez · 11 months ago

Text

੭୧ ⼂ PRINCESS ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ lmh x fem!reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff 𓏧 being your enemy’s passenger princess is a dream that he likes it as much as you do ㅤ warnings drunk reader ﹢ 0.8k wc ㅤ𓏧ㅤ @sxmmerberries (beta)

“Why am I her emergency contact?” your friend’s boyfriend cowers under his pointed gaze and hastily explains how you did not have an emergency contact so he just dialled your most recent call. Halfway through that explanation your friend drunkenly starts kissing her boyfriend making that the cue for them to leave.

Minho looks at you, who has been suspiciously quiet the whole time before he sighs, accepting his fate and drags you to his car. His glares do nothing to soothe the ache in his heart as he softly places you down on the passenger seat and carefully tucks your legs in before attaching the seatbelt.

Closing the door, he moves to the other side, sets himself down on the driver’s seat and puts in your house location. As soon as he starts the car you mutter your first sentence for the night, “You really came.”

“Yes, you called me so,” he reasons, more to himself than with you, hating the pang in his heart formed at the thought of what if you had called someone else and not him. God, he would have hated it!

You giggle under the influence saying, “Do you know how many times I have dreamed of being your passenger princess?” His heart flutters at the sound of your light laugh filling the car making him bite back a smile as he asks, “Why?”

“Because you look hot driving,” your blatant voice makes him choke on air as he feels his face getting hotter at the compliment. Minho tries to focus on the road and less on his thumping heart as you continue blabbering, “I am so cliché, I like my enemy.” After a short breath you continue, “Will you tease me about this tomorrow? Well, that’s okay, I will just make myself believe.”

When you suddenly stop his eyes widen and he hastily asks before he can stop himself, “Believe what?”

“That you tease me because you like me, like those book-boys,” your eyes fix on his face and it takes him all his self-control to not look at you or he knows he will straight up crash.

“Passenger princess huh? You like being that?” he quickly changes the topic as the air around him gets hotter. He makes a mental note to get his car's air conditioner checked. Maybe it is malfunctioning.

You nod lightly, eyes hazily fixed on him, making him grip the steering wheel as if his life depended on it and say, “You always call me that to tease me, the joke’s on you, girls love being called a ‘princess’.”

“Do you now?” the teasing edge returns to his voice, his cocky demeanour coming back instantly. “Most do,” you say softly and add, “I would hate it so much if you called someone else that though.” Minho doesn’t know how he kept his sanity after that sentence leaves he knows but he somehow brings you to your apartment and stands in front of the door.

“Password,” he asks, making you giggle and flirtingly pointing at his chest, “To your heart?”

“To your home,” he deadpans but can’t help a lovesick smile take over his face as he watches you cutely stumble to put it in. The low light of the hallway accentuates your features and he finds himself blaming the high of the night for wanting to grab your face and kiss you right then and there.

When the door finally unlocks he carefully holds you and walks inside as he finds himself spilling, “You don’t need to worry about the heart you have already got that unlocked.”

“Have I?” your eyes widen in anticipation as you sling your arms around his neck looking up at him and Minho swears he never saw as many stars in the night sky as he did in your eyes that night.

“Yes, the day I realised you were borderline tolerable, I knew I was screwed,” he whispers back, eyes fleeting between your lips and your eyes before he sighs panting lightly. He somehow makes you drink a glass of water and you plop down on the bed, pulling you with him but he stays upright making you pout. Mustering all his self-control he goes to find a change of clothes in your closet.

He waits outside patiently and after what feels like almost twenty minutes he hears the door unlock as he enters, your hair is ruffled, and your face is puffy and warm from all the alcohol yet Minho finds himself fighting all his demons to not press his lips to yours.

When you finally plop down on the bed he pulls up the duvet to your chin and sighs saying, “I find drunk confessions awful, but I am here swooning over shit like this, so yes, I am stupidly in love with you, I guess.” Your eyes light up even in the haze of alcohol and sleep overtaking your features and he finds himself resisting to kiss you for the third time that night.

“Remember it till morning, for me,” he whispers to you lightly and prays silently that you will, before turning off the lights and saying one last sentence, “Sleep, my princess.”

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃ㅤ okay but to be minho's passenger princess asfsjsjejsl (divider my me) ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @gong-fourz @aaa-sia @yeosayang @weird-bookworm ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

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hischierlin · 3 months ago

Text

accidentally yours ｡･ﾟﾟ･ quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again, i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure other than that overthinking, scratching on the surface???

word count: 5.1k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

You couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, you're lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously low, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled followed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now, is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. What you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking.

Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours.

Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping your smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, crossing your arms and biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too, didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"We just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, not that they would change your mind anyway, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head."

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. "Getting out out his head", with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget for the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she chattered, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him either. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to, except for him.

A moment, a pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected too, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

It wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, already figuring him out which no one did better than you, telling you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm, "Can you at least pretend to fall for it?, just for it to get stuck in his throat when you answered.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with, just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back, recognizing it immediately, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he should know already, but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, turning away in his seat.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", he still vacillated about it all and ignored the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was just Jack and Luke.

Right?

Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers and he wouldn't change that for the world now. It was clearly a big misunderstanding.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversations, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind.

Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches, but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something? Because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together, thinking hard with her eyes narrowing the slightest looking at you.

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighing as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Still”, she rambled on, not getting the memo, "kinda sounded familiar..."

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you weren't even a part of it. You leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though."

There’s no need for that.

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, made you wonder if he would notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really, but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away.

How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here.

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it, and through the faint hid of a smirk tugging at his mouth corner.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers flexed around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he paused, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being helpful and humanity personified, or because of the simple fact that he was your emergency contact. And that's what they are for.

Yet, you needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no, it's not like it would’ve changed anything."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them. You felt his next sigh in your bones.

"What do you want me to say?", and you swallowed hard over the slight clip in his tone, "You're the one who put my name down I had no idea of, and they told me you were on your way to bolt out of here with a concussion. What did you expect me to do?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

He hinted at more, waiting for you to give it to him when you answered with an abruptness yourself, "Makes two of us."

"But you could've guessed from the call alone that it was a mix-up."

"Who jokes about that?"

Probably the universe and whatever intention it had planned out for you tonight, but you still tried to resist, just like you resisted the urge to meet his gaze, your eyes fixating somewhere beyond his right arm.

"Let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time, and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved" typing it into the console, it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #nhl fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

719 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped.

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.

“Who?”

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched.

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black.

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months ago

Text

Premature Internet Activists

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TOMORROW (Feb 14) in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and SATURDAY (Feb 15) for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

"Premature antifacist" was a sarcastic term used by leftists caught up in the Red Scare to describe themselves, as they came under ideological suspicion for having traveled to Spain to fight against Franco's fascists before the US entered WWII and declared war against the business-friendly, anticommunist fascist Axis powers of Italy, Spain, and, of course, Germany:

https://www.google.com/books/edition/In_Denial/fBSbKS1FlegC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22premature+anti-fascist%22&pg=PA277&printsec=frontcover

The joke was that opposing fascism made you an enemy of America – unless you did so after the rest of America had woken up to the existential threat of a global fascist takeover. What's more, if you were a "premature antifascist," you got no credit for fighting fascism early on. Quite the contrary: fighting fascism before the rest of the US caught up with you didn't make you prescient – it made you a pariah.

I've been thinking a lot about premature antifascism these days, as literal fascists use the internet to coordinate a global authoritarian takeover that represents an existential threat to a habitable planet and human thriving. In light of that, it's hard to argue that the internet is politically irrelevant, and that fights over the regulation, governance, and structure of the internet are somehow unserious.

And yet, it wasn't very long ago that tech policy was widely derided as a frivolous pursuit, and that tech organizing was dismissed as "slacktivism":

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Elevating concerns about the internet's destiny to the level of human rights struggle was delusional, a glorified argument about the rules for forums where sad nerds argued about Star Trek. If you worried that Napster-era copyright battles would make it easy to remove online content by claiming that it infringed copyright, you were just carrying water for music pirates. If you thought that legalizing and universalizing encryption technology would safeguard human rights, you were a fool who had no idea that real human rights battles involved confronting Bull Connor in the streets, not suing the NSA in a federal courtroom.

And now here we are. Congress has failed to update consumer privacy law since 1988 (when they banned video store clerks from blabbing about your VHS rentals). Mass surveillance enables everything from ransomware, pig butchering and identity theft to state surveillance of "domestic enemies," from trans people to immigrants. What's more, the commercial and state surveillance apparatus are, in fact, as single institution: states protect corporations from privacy law so that corporations can create and maintain population-scale nonconsensual dossiers on all the intimate facts of our lives, which governments raid at will, treating them as an off-the-books surveillance dragnet:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

Our speech forums have been captured by billionaires who censor anti-oligarchic political speech, and who spy on dissident users in order to aid in political repression. Bogus copyright claims are used to remove or suppress disfavorable news reports of elite rapists, thieves, war criminals and murderers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

You'd be hard pressed to find someone who'd describe the fights over tech governance in 2025 as frivolous or disconnected from "real politics"

This is where the premature antifascist stuff comes in. An emerging revisionist history of internet activism would have you believe that the first generation of tech liberation activists weren't fighting for a free, open internet – we were just shilling for tech companies. The P2P wars weren't about speech, privacy and decentralization – they were just a way to help the tech sector fight the entertainment industry. DRM fights weren't about preserving your right to repair, to privacy, and to accessibility – they were just about making it easy to upload movies to Kazaa. Fighting for universal access to encryption wasn't about defending everyday people from corporate and state surveillance – it was just a way to help terrorists and child abusers stay out of sight of cops.

Of course, now these fights are all about real things. Now we need to worry about centralization, interoperability, lock-in, surveillance, speech, and repair. But the people – like me – who've been fighting over this stuff for a quarter-century? We've gone from "unserious fools who mistook tech battles for human rights fights" to "useful idiots for tech companies" in an eyeblink.

"Premature Internet Activists," in other words.

This isn't merely ironic or frustrating – it's dangerous. Approaching tech activism without a historical foundation can lead people badly astray. For example, many modern tech critics think that Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes internet users liable for illegal speech acts, while immunizing entities that host that speech) is a "giveaway to Big Tech" and want to see it abolished.

Boy is this dangerous. CDA 230 is necessary for anyone who wants to offer a place for people to meet and discuss anything. Without CDA 230, no one could safely host a Mastodon server, or set up the long-elusive federated Bluesky servers. Hell, you couldn't even host a group-chat or message board:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Getting rid of CDA 230 won't get rid of Facebook or make it clean up its act. It will just make it impossible for anyone to offer an alternative to Facebook, permanently enshrining Zuck's dominance over our digital future. That's why Mark Zuckerberg wants to kill Section 230:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/zuckerberg-calls-changes-techs-section-230-protections-rcna486

Defending policies that make it easier to host speech isn't the same thing as defending tech companies' profits, though these do sometimes overlap. When tech platforms have their users' back – even for self-serving reasons – they create legal precedents and strong norms that protect everyone. Like when Apple stood up to the FBI on refusing to break its encryption:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple%E2%80%93FBI_encryption_dispute

If Apple had caved on that one, it would be far harder for, say, Signal to stand up to demands that it weaken its privacy guarantees. I'm no fan of Apple, and I would never mistake Tim Cook – who owes his CEOhood to his role in moving Apple production to Chinese sweatshops that are so brutal they had to install suicide nets – for a human rights defender. But I cheered on Apple in its fight against the FBI, and I will cheer them again, if they stand up to the UK government's demand to break their encryption:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c20g288yldko

This doesn't make me a shill for Apple. I don't care if Apple makes or loses another dime. I care about Apple's users and their privacy. That's why I criticize Apple when they compromise their users' privacy for profit:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

The same goes for fights over scraping. I hate AI companies as much as anyone, but boy is it a mistake to support calls to ban scraping in the name of fighting AI:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

It's scraping that lets us track paid political disinformation on Facebook (Facebook isn't going to tell us about it):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#quis-custodiet-ipsos-zuck

And it's scraping that let us rescue all the CDC and NIH data that Musk's broccoli-hair brownshirts deleted on behalf of DOGE:

https://www.cnet.com/tech/services-and-software/how-to-access-important-health-info-thats-been-scrubbed-from-the-cdc-site/

It's such a huge mistake to assume that anything corporations want is bad for the internet. There are many times when commercial interests dovetail with online human rights. That's not a defense of capitalism, it's a critique of capitalism that acknowledges that profits do sometimes coincide with the public interest, an argument that Marx and Engels devote Chapter One of The Communist Manifesto to:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

In the early 1990s, Al Gore led the "National Information Infrastructure" hearings, better known as the "Information Superhighway" hearings. Gore's objective was to transfer control over the internet from the military to civilian institutions. It's true that these institutions were largely (but not exclusively) commercial entities seeking to make a buck on the internet. It's also true that much of that transfer could have been to public institutions rather than private hands.

But I've lately – and repeatedly – heard this moment described (by my fellow leftists) as the "privatization" of the internet. This is strictly true, but it's even more true to say that it was the demilitarization of the internet. In other words, corporations didn't take over functions performed by, say, the FCC – they took over from the Pentagon. Leftists have no business pining for the days when the internet was controlled by the Department of Defense.

Caring about the technological dimension of human rights 30 years ago – or hell, 40 years ago – doesn't make you a corporate stooge who wanted to launch a thousand investment bubbles. It makes you someone who understood, from the start, that digital rights are human rights, that cyberspace would inevitably evert into meatspace, and that the rules, norms and infrastructure we built for the net would someday be as consequential as any other political decision.

I'm proud to be a Premature Internet Activist. I just celebrated my 23rd year with the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and yesterday, we sued Elon Musk and DOGE:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-sues-opm-doge-and-musk-endangering-privacy-millions

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/13/digital-rights/#are-human-rights

Image: Felix Winkelnkemper (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Acoustic_Coupler.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #eff #malcolm gladwell #section 230 #copyright #copyfight #privacy #code is speech #napster #creative commons #premature antifascist #trustbusting #antitrust #al gore #nii #national information infrastructure hearings #demilitarization #information superhighway #clicktivism

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thargelalia · 5 months ago

Text

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?”

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care.

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace.

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory.

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble.

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course.

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him.

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!”

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes.

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it.

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.”

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.”

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air.

He lowers it, closing his mouth.

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride.

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”

There’s a shocked gasp.

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips.

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?”

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?”

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.”

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #jason todd x y/n #dc imagine #red hood fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfiction

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