#those markings took forever
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Me finish a drawing? It’s more likely than you think
Ikran Starscream!
Putting some extras below :D
Also lineart, because I’m rather proud
It looks naked lol
#transformers#seekers#starscream#avatar#avatar james cameron#ikran#avatar ikran#starscream as an ikran#those markings took forever#me when I realize I don’t have the patience to do that again#anyway I like to think Megatron is the one trying to bond with him#I think it’d be hilarious if Starscream just yeeted him out of thr rookery#he has to climb up three separate times#starscream also just throws him off even after the bond
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Authentic Story of the Shining Force - Saint Fencer Max - Chapter 4
Translation notes:
This is the last boob joke. We're free at last.
Here's the retranslation of every scene with the Spring of Recollection in the game. Overall, her speech here is fairly close to what she says in Waral in-game, with a few details from her final appearance sprinkled in, like her care for Cain. It does misses a few nuances though, like the Legacy being more than just Dark Dragon.
I don't think I've ever seen art of the Spring, but notably, she gets a portrait in the GBA version, and it looks a lot like the manga design, with the slightly wavy hair and especially the blank eyes.
Obviously, the manga rushes through the plot since it's short, thus a lot of places are skipped. I didn't even feel like pointing them out before. However I will point out Waral not being here this time, because Waral happens to not be in the beta map either, and it has very contradicting lore between the ASCII guide and the World Book, meaning it might have not been well developed. Besides, Chapter 5 is very weirdly structured. You get two ship battles that are basically the same, you get to Waral by accident, you advance the plot by going to Ring Reef for no reason and everyone telling you it's off-limits while letting you waltz in anyway, and hardly anything happens in the shrine besides you hearing about the Manual, which is not even a big deal because you get to Rudo by accident later (two ship accidents!! why repeat this plot point!!) and would go to Dragonia anyway to help Bleu. Basically, I obviously can't prove it, but it wouldn't surprise me if the ocean shrine was initially thought off as only a plot scene, and the battles/town added much later for gameplay reasons.
Perhaps worth mentioning, the GBA version also makes a point to mention that Max got lost in the shrine alone, and everyone was worried about him, which does remind me a lot of the ship scene here.
uh oh. i hit image limit for the first time and i don't wanna remove either of these pics. more notes on a reblog later.
#shining series#shining force#saint fencer max#saint fencer max translation#sfm max#sf cain#so. gamers. fans. friends and followers. are we good? are we normal? are we normal about the last pages? i'm not#unfortunately my typesetting does not do it justice but at least i put up a fight#those unending creaking noises mess me up so good#it's just. so good. all of this#why did the gba version wasted time with boring villain epilogues#when it could be giving me the Good Stuff (angst of a long haired anime man)#also is his hair dyed? the eyebrows kinda imply that. i'm not sure i like that but i'm not sure i dislike that either#his hair is so good tho#anyway i could talk about him forever and i will but i gotta talk about the spring too#i really like the sword of light being here. it works aesthetically at least. the mishaela plot is very dumb#i had a whole thing about the sword of light typed but i took it out for later cause it doesn't have much to do with the manga#will probably come though! the three max cain plots are the same basically but there have some difference in the details#that has mashed together in my brain#so i wanna pick that apart at some point#anyway back to the mango. i dearly miss the nuance about the legacy even though it took me a while to notice it in the game#between this and the pseudo-magic introduction the manga does suck a bit at portraying the ancients#but i like how despite the weird pacing of the manga this part kinda flows better#with the spring's revelations all here in the middle#instead of popping in manarina like 'yeah boy you're hero of fate wait three chapter until we elaborate on that though'#naturally the game has good battle content to keep you happy through it#but the manarina scene feels kinda useless to me#anyway i probably had more to say about this while translating but i'm very sleepy#i will never shut up about this chapter though. mark my words
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also given that the logic of said superiority authoriority is an entitlement to deny someone's personhood & use them as an object for your purposes, from obviously getting to direct what they must do & can't do, to enjoying whatever gratification from lashing out / demeaning which is also going to serve as an affirming exercise in authority when one can do that from an insulated elevated place....a crucial part of whatever form of this violence, from the most nanoscopic triangle in the sierpiński triangle pyramid scheme hierarchy, to the hypothetical largest (zoom in or out to whatever degree: the same shit also), being that indeed the superior parties need the deserved insulation from any Consequence to exerting their superior status, including indeed from having to witness the consequences For the "inferior" parties, such as whatever externalizations of suffering they recognize as such, which either (a) need to be put away (b) are manipulative performances or otherwise exaggerated (e.g. being a pussy / not even having the sense to realize how little suffering they're Really experiencing) or (c) can be fun to witness if you decide you enjoy that as an affirmation of power as per your ability to completely detach from any avoidance of causing pain, harming for its own sake, b/c you Can
all which is to frame how Interesting it is that after all those moments of going "well, they keep bothering with reaction shots of winston noticeably feeling hurt & expressing it, sometimes also verbally. it's like it could be setting up something" it set up Nothing; while once again just like has been done dozens of times a scene just Ends on winston being rejected &/or hurt, no resolution then, no resolution ever, and in the case of 7x03 was so significant an attack that just like in 4x11 when mafee gets to take out his own Loyalty Insecurity on winston while everyone else hangs around in tacit to overt approval, everyone just leaves the room & we get winston staying behind in the Most distant position aaand scene's over! thread's over! david levien get back here after you Liked that 4x12 livetweet of mine pointing out "so see & winston was right anyways??" like....that is: we are given the Perspective of someone who is also now Leaving winston behind, thus immune to the consequences of however that treatment could actually affect him or how he might struggle to deal with that now (who cares! the answer is: Alone) like Whatever, next time we see him he's completely fine now. and i'm just so happening to think that all the little moments of getting to see winston wither & withdraw & etc in reaction to being shitted on was also us being granted the perspective of Gratification that he's punished for speaking or existing or whatever, without it ever going anywhere or mattering beyond that instant. we too are the ones who surely get to relentlessly bully the autistic person & damn if we don't at least enjoy someone getting to go off the rails restoring their ego by doing absolutely whatever they want to him, which just so happens to be perfectly aligned with getting him Back In Line. pull yourself together winston! the only consequences you're experiencing we wanna deal with are the ones where you give us the algorithm we decided we want, actually. and now let's look across the rest of the season where the consequences for wags for being this way (or anyone else for standing by, ready to benefit, with philip bafflingly declaring as well how actually it was brutal in a good way) is approximately fuckall even as of course nobody's pretending he's one of the personal growth guys out here: rian is though, and didn't have to "grow" out of abusing winston or thinking that was fine & good or that of course she's inherently superior! and in the end we have more affection and interest for the Epic Asshole than their Cringe Targets
#yeah once again really appreciate being given the Rewards of that Fantasy of pwning these losers#we get to Glimpse winston going :/ :( b/c that's how we know he was aptly punished for trying to act like he's a fellow person#when we're grabbing his head forcing him back into place in a bigger way it's more important we then dust our hands off & Leave#winston leaving May be that eventual acknowledgment of consequence for w/e scraps of sympathy (pity) billions has for him#but it's made into an episode abt wags w/marked Little care for winston's role & once again Just A Fun Power Trip! for us viewers too!#thoughts amped up from the harmonic resonance of a more zoomed out triangle in the self similar fractal of pyramid scheme hierarchy....#the inferior may be beset w/mass death & violence but um my nice dinner out please?? same No Consequences For The Superior logics#prince shits on winston ep 1? cool! we're giving him a chance. shits on rian ep 12? whoa! whadda hell blunosaur....hang on a minute....#winston billions#how gracious to align us as viewers with the people comfortably shitting on those Beneath Them for kicks & status#and ''pitying'' the Inferior parties doesn't disrupt your superiority so don't worry about that#rian talking to winston like a dog & pitching right in for hurting him via ''he wasn't ever worth listening to But here ya go'' as Pity....#taylor moved away from their being willing to hire him; listen to him; even At All step in even a Tiny bit to insulate him....#towards wanting to forever ignore him & express contempt & tell rian the pitying is Too Much & be right there w/wags in 7x03...?#guess that was just like ''well they can't possibly have an arc of keeping up Any supportiveness / basic recognition of this loser''#but they also don't have to interact w/their own willingness to Insistence on being awful to him either#wasn't even the consequence of [once again we need his epic output...but have treated him like shit?] nah just took it from him :)#anyways; riled. riling times#sure having plenty of firsthand experience with a Refusal to accept like responsibility of produced suffering#there's plenty of room for distress; particularly if translated into irritation/anger; as dismissable to ''haha funny. now anyways''#then there's the option of Resenting whatever evident pain. you can't Tyrannically impose that consequence on Me!!! why i oughta#see also the tyranny of winston Speaking (demanding listening) Being Present (demanding navigation of that) having wants; feelings (NO)....#or you're at more of a loss? you ofc simply get to literally/figuratively walk away :) turning away from winston. ending the scene. shrug#anyways winston is inherently an Other who just so happens to deserve to be Our punching bag & inferior in life yippee wahoo#and by ''just so happens'' we mean clearly Deserves it based on nothing abt what Consequences his actions do or don't have lol lmao#his deserving this inferiority is something more Inherent about him okay lol lmao XD a sentiment unchallenged all 5 seasons he's here#how fun every time rian starts talking to winston with insults & punishment Prompted by his audacity in existing loserishly#what a rollicking episode as wags decides he'll prove his superiority over someone today & everyone claps as he assaults winston. nice!#it was so essential b/c now we can Take his coding w/o having to interact w/him (save 1 meeting just w/sacker!) cool!!! good!!!#lord even knows Where Do I Start Where Do I End It well anywhere & nowhere always & never. the lil topic of ableism & abuse
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So um, here’s my turtlesona. She’s basically me. Also, the worm thing is cause my discord pfp is a worm and I thought it would be funny.
#turtlesona#she has neck rolls cause I saw the turtle she’s based on has those and I thought it was cute#it took me forever to come up with a design for the markings that wasn’t overwhelming to the eyes#my post#artastic#tmnt pit#pitdwellers
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Consider having your innocence stolen so young, be crushed by expectations and rules you do not understand, your disobedience punished with words and beating, being different from the status quo threaten by death and excommunication
And then in your sad, bitter existence you find someone to love, someone so innocent that doesn't see any of your scars. Someone that loves you unconditionally
... and then you blink, and you don't even notice when you did the same, exact thing they have done to you to them
#lizard.txt#some trauma is carried by generations and those scars do not heal they do not disappear you're forever marked#at this point im just andreiposting but i need him to face what he has done#look at your child and be terrified because its like youre looking in the mirror#you've killed your child you've killed the innocence there is no light in her eyes#mind poisoned by ideology that pushes others away that urges that paranoia that the world is the enemy and those different that us must be#dead#body turned weapon#sharp edges meant to cut#the order that stole his life away from him took his baby as well and its all his fault#what have you done?.. who else is there to blame?
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dr dreamy | na jaemin
pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real) a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)
your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with no decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package.
"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest.
your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering.
"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?”
“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples.
“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.”
“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.”
“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.”
"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.
this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?
“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.”
she paused. “oh.”
you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room.
“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.”
“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?”
“i did not say that.”
“you did.”
“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.”
“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.”
“i’m hanging up.”
“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.
the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.
the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.
except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent.
you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.
as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.
three soft knocks.
your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him.
you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine.
but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.
you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he—
you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall.
a long pause.
“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite.
you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now.
"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.
you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake.
he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.
“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.”
he was so calm. too calm.
“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.
“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you.
you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.
“oh no-”
thud.
everything.
everything spilled out.
time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell.
boxes. bottles. wrappers.
and then the pièce de résistance.
a sex doll.
a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.
you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.
“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”
“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.
“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane.
you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.
a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.
"minnie." you said her name like a curse.
your phone buzzed. it was a text from her.
minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?
“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room.
you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?
♡ ♡ ♡
for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable.
the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment.
you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?
you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night.
“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone.
after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly.
“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch.
you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures.
you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low.
when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now.
you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon.
just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze.
you smelled him first.
that cologne. you’d know it anywhere.
your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive.
“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth.
“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you.
“y/n?”
shit.
you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.”
he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?”
you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?”
“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—”
he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair.
“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies.
he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.”
“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.”
“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?”
your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?
“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears.
he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.”
“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.
“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.”
“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster.
but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing.
darkness.
“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall.
“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?”
“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.”
he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to.
“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.”
“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food.
there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.
“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…”
no. absolutely not. this was not happening.
“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.”
“but i think we should—”
“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.”
he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?”
“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.”
“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused.
“same difference,” you muttered.
another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness.
“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.”
“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.”
he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.”
you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.”
he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.”
“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.”
“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning.
“you say that like it’s news.”
silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear.
“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?”
your whole face went hot.
“jaemin,” you warned.
“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.”
“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him.
he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.
"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly.
“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern.
“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours.
“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it.
he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.”
“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.”
“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?”
your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life? the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck.
"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."
he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.”
he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.
“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence.
“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile.
“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.
he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating.
“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.”
“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.”
“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.”
“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.
“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth.
he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.
you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum.
by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.
♡ ♡ ♡
“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen.
“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.”
“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand.
“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.”
“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?”
you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”
“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”
“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.
“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”
“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.
you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”
“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”
“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”
“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.
your face went hot. so, so hot.
“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.
“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”
“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”
minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”
“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”
“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”
your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”
“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”
you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”
“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”
“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”
“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention. “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”
“you’re fully overreacting right now.”
one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.
“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”
“your point is..?”
“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”
“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.
“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”
“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.
“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.
“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”
“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”
“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”
“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”
“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.
“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.
“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”
“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”
“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.
“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.
you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.
delusional.
she was delusional.
but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.
you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.
nope.
you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.
♡ ♡ ♡
over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.
jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.
this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.
“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.
“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating.
but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.
and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?
he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."
the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.
“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”
you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”
“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”
“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.
“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."
you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.
you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"
“what do you mean?”
“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”
“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”
you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?
“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.
“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.
“no, i’m not.”
“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”
you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”
“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”
“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”
“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”
“that is not a thing.”
“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”
“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”
“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp.
checkmate.
you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering..
"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.
the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.
“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.
“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.
your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.
♡ ♡ ♡
things only got worse after that.
jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.
he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.
it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself, to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.
the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.
“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.
you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”
“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”
your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.
“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”
what does that even mean?!
your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.
jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”
“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.
“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”
you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”
“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.
“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.
“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”
“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.
you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.
“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.
“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.
“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.
you nearly slammed the door in his face.
“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.
“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.
you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.
“then i guess it’s just you.”
you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.
he’s the worst.
the absolute worst.
♡ ♡ ♡
then came the visiting.
you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.
you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…
when you opened the door, he was right there.
jaemin.
he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.
“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.
“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”
“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”
“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”
you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”
“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”
“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”
“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”
“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”
“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”
you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.
his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.
“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”
“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”
oh, this man.
“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”
“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.
it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.
your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.
“so annoying,” you muttered.
“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.
“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.
“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”
you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.
♡ ♡ ♡
thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.
“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.
“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.
“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”
“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.
he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.
“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.
you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.
he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.
it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.
your heart stuttered before you could stop it.
“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.
his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.
“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,” he murmured.
you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.
so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.
he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.
♡ ♡ ♡
the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.
but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.
it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.
“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.
“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”
“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced.
“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”
“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”
“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”
“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.
“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”
“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”
“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.
“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.
“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest.
“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.
“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.
she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.
“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.
♡ ♡ ♡
you still ended up going out.
but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?
it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.
“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.
“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.
“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.
“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.
jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.
“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.
“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.
“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.
“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.
“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.
“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.
“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.
“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.
“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.
“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.
the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.
♡ ♡ ♡
“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”
“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.
“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.
“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”
“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.
“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”
“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”
“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”
“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.
“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.
“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.
“send him a picture,” jake suggested.
you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.
“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.
“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.
“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.
jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’
the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.
“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.
you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.
jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’
your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge.
“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.
♡ ♡ ♡
after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.
“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.
“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.
“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.
“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.
“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.
“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.
“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.
“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.
inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.
jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.
“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.
“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”
“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.
jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.
“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.
he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.
♡ ♡ ♡
in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater.
“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.
“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.
“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.
he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”
“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you.
you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol.
“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.”
“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach.
“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.”
“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?”
you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?”
“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look.
you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.
“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right.
he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?”
you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.
“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.
there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier.
“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs.
you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one.
he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.”
“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared.
“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.”
you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.
your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.
“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch.
you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing.
calm down, y/n.
you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered.
jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.
he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble.
“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”
he disappeared into his room before you could respond
you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner.
of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym.
you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense.
“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal.
you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip—
“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava.
“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down.
“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.
“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!”
the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.
you froze.
oh.
oh my god.
if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.
“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs…
his abs.
your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice.
“oh my god.”
jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?”
“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.
he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened.
“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”
“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”
he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.
the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.
he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."
every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.
he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.
“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.
“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision.
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?”
am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.
“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end.
“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”
“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.
“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.
you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.
“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”
“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”
he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”
“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”
there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.
“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.
“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.
as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.
“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.
walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.
“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”
the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.
“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.
except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.
you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.
“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.
when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.
“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.
“too big,” you said.
“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”
if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.
you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.
“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.
“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”
his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.
you did not win that fight.
instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.
he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.
his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.
“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”
good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.
his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.
“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.
“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.
lord, have mercy.
“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.
“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.
“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.
“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…
his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.
he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.
his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous.
because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.
he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.
his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder.
the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.
his hand slid up and up until…
he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.
“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.
and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.
you didn’t take it.
his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.
he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.
instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown.
and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.
“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.
his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.
you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”
he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.
he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.
“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.
the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?
he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips
“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.
you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.
“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.
“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.
it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.
your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.
his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder.
“look at you,” he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”
you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..
his lips were back on you in an instant, rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.
he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.
“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.
you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.
“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.
“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”
that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.
his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.
“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”
your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.
“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”
for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.
then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.
everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.
and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.
the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.
when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.
his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.
“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.
he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.
“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.
you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.
“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.
“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.
he’s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.
but you don’t. you won’t.
he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.
then he leans in.
his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.
he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.
and you are falling apart.
your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.
his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.
“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.
he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,
“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin.
“could stay here all night.”
the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.
he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.
“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.
your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth.
“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.
“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.
“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.
“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.
and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back.
in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.
“not done with you yet,” he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.
“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.
he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom.
"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.
"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.
he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long.
jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.
you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened.
"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."
his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?"
then his boxers hit the floor.
oh.
your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.
“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”
"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"
“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.
“you know what.”
“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”
you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.
“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”
he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.
“fuck me. please.”
he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.
your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.
“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.
your heart swelled at the care in his voice.
you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.
he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”
“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him.
his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back
"good girl," he murmured.
he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.
his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.
the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore.
"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.”
“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended.
he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper.
the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.
“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.
“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him.
“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him.
“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.
the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, testing just how much you could handle.
"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me."
“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper.
“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?"
you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him.
his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter.
you were close… so, so close.
but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.
the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust.
“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?”
you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.
“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels."
“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”
“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me."
your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body.
“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.”
he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core.
you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.
“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.
you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back.
“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”
“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands.
“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.
“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.”
his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.”
the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly.
“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away.
“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.
you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely.
“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.
you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.
“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.
“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest.
“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow.
his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once.
“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”
you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips.
“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.
“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—”
“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?”
he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising.
“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.”
you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.
“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.
“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”
you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”
“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”
“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”
his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”
“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”
“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”
my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3
#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct smut#nct dream fic#nct jaemin#na jaemin#jaemin x you#jaemin x reader#jaemin moodboard#jaemin imagine#jaemin fic#jaemin smut#jaemin fanfic#jaemin#nct dream smut#nct fanfic#nct#nct dream x you
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## murder for you, baby !!
summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.
pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader
warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )
author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭
𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!
Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.
With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.
Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.
One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.
The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.
The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.
However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.
Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.
Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.
Red Hood has heard their murmurs.
Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.
Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.
Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.
The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.
The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.
His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.
A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.
“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”
Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.
It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.
“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.
“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.
“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.
Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.
“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.
“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”
“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”
It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.
He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.
Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?
“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.
“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”
Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.
“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”
Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?
It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.
You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.
All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.
“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.
Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.
When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.
After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.
“Batman, I found another body.”
Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.
What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.
You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.
From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.
Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.
Well, he didn’t need to anymore.
You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.
Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.
Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.
You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”
It sounded like a death sentence.
He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.
You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.
From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.
Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.
He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.
“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.
“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.
Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.
Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.
The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.
Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.
“Do you love it, Red Hood?”
Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.
“Let me thank you, please.”
It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.
You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”
“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”
You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”
Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”
Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.
“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.
Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.
The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.
He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.
“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.
You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.
An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.
How the fuck were you real?
“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”
“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”
“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”
Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.
His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.
Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.
A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”
Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.
You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”
Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.
Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.
Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.
The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.
You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.
“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”
You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.
God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.
Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.
He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.
You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”
The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.
Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”
You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.
It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.
You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”
It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.
“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.
The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.
“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.
“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.
You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”
“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.
“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.
“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.
You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.
“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.
Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.
You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.
“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.
It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.
Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.
Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.
You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.
It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.
Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?
“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”
Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.
“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.
“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.
He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.
Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.
“Jason—”
“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”
It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.
An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”
You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.
The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.
Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.
“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.
Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.
He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.
You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.
“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.
Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.
You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”
Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.
His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.
Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.
“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.
“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.
Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.
“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.
Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.
Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.
He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”
You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.
“I love you too, my Jason.”
When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.
People say, never make a deal with the devil.
They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?
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#hadesrise#gay#male reader#x male reader#imagines#x reader#jason x reader#jason todd x reader#jason x male reader#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x y/n#dc jason todd#jason todd#red hood x male reader#dc red hood#red hood fanfic#red hood x reader#red hood#dc x male reader#dc x reader#dc imagine#ghostface#scream#scream au#ghostface au#smut#jason todd smut#red hood smut#oneshots#dceu
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
#fandom#fanfiction#commenting#fanfiction etiquette#emily post please help me express my feelings about this yaoi
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🅾🅽🅴 🅼🅾🆁🅴 🅶🅰🅼🅴 // part 1 (Reader x Young-il / player 001)
Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex--awesome--22 @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis
Summary: The games are not what you thought they would be. Forced to stay after the first game due to the votes. While groups are being formed, you find yourself welcomed by an interesting player that took your side. [series]
If you closed your eyes, you could still hear the bangs.
Never you thought you’d hear a gunshot so clear in your ears, certainly not so repeatedly. It was a wake-up call that you had made the wrong choice about joining. If you knew what you knew now, you would’ve told yourself to turn back. To burn the card and never call that number. If you could, you would’ve taken the high road.
If only your decision didn’t depend on so many others. The x marked clear on your chest patch. You wanted to leave, but because you were outnumbered you were forced to stay. Sitting silently on one of the beds. Sitting all alone. Most people started to form groups. The O’s gathering around as some X’s strayed around like helpless dogs.
Your mind was silent. Trying hard to not freak out and keep your cool under these circumstances. Most of the blood you had wiped away in the bathroom after Red light, Green light. Some unfortunate people getting shot around you. If it wasn’t for that player 456, you wouldn’t know if you’d still be here.
Hands trembling as you could barely hold the sandwich still. Package open on the top with just a bit popping out. The smallest of bite’s taken from it. You kept staring in front of you. Looking over at the other side where the O’s were forming groups and greeting each other. Celebrating their victory of getting to play one more game.
You thought it was ridiculous, for who even knew if they would survive the next game. Your gaze went to the higher beds, all empty. Till you noticed a small detail. Something black on the wall where on other tiles it wasn’t. Curious about it. Your eyes looking around for more of those.
Even turning your head to look at your side. Seeing the black markings as well. Getting the sudden idea, you got up. Rushed down the platform to reach the ground. Walking backwards to see how you’d get a better look at them.
Tilting your head a bit in the process with a thoughtful expression. Seemingly finding something, you crawled underneath the bed constructions. Crawling closer to the edge. Coming to lay under a row of beds by the wall. Trying to see what was on the walls by looking up.
Squinting one eye shut, you could faintly see something, but not enough to make out what it was. Humming with curiosity. Crawling back underneath from it, you re-appeared in the front once more. Moving more to the centre, turning around to where you’d get a better view.
Your gaze falling on a small group where you recognized player 456 between. Letting your gaze go more up, they seemed to have a better view of getting to see what was on the walls if you could lay down. Lay down and look up to the wall paintings. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Yet it meant walking over to them. Disturbing them and going through their little gathering to crawl to the lowest parts of the bed constructions. Turning once more around, you wanted to make sure there wasn’t a better way. It was then that you heard the short whistle. Making you turn your head to the side.
Seeing player 230 break free from a group and approach you. He walked casually, trying not to attract attention to him yet it did. – “Seniorita, s’cuse me. – he said, one hand in his pocket. His gaze falling on your number. Then on the X sticking to your chest. – “You want to leave seniorita?” – he said sounding so smooth, he thought for sure he could charm you. You simply looked him up and down, puffing once with a roll of your eyes.
He started moving his hands in front of him, rapping some rubbish in front of you. – “I can protect you seniorita.” – he finished with a rapper pose. He came sliding an arm over your shoulder, leaning in. You wanted him off, shrugging your shoulder so he understood the hint.
Player 230 moved his hands up with bouncing shoulders. Almost dancing as if he was having the time of his life. He then pointed at you. – “I like…” – he started finishing with forming a heart with his fingers. – “you.” – adding a wink to it to complete his charm. Another player came joining his side. Player 124 with a clear smile on his lips.
Thanos slapped his hand against his chest, turning his head to him. – “This one’s mine.” – he told Nam-Gyu. Nam-Gyu smiled sheepishly looking back at you. – “Seniorita.” – Thanos said coming to circle around you. – “If you like you can fit right here.” – he stopped opening his arm, pointing at it that you could perfectly fit in his arms.
You felt uneasy, unable to escape them. Like vultures they kept you around. Circling you and not letting you leave. Thanos blew you an air kiss. Pointing at the X on your chest. – “We’ll need to change that.” – he said touching your chest shamelessly.
You hoped someone would step in, but clearly everyone here was selfish enough to not. Till you heard a loud voice come through. – “Ya!” – it made you turn your head with a gasp. Seeing player 390 and 388 step aside. Player 001 making his way through. His expression stern and unreadable. Making you swallow nervously as he was approaching. Silencing the room with just his presence.
It even made some people move back to be sure to be out of his way. Thanos clicked his tongue unamused that he would come and interfere with his flirting. Thanos walked closer to him, coming to stand before you. Arms folded. With one hand he waved player 001 away. Player 001 leaned sideways to look past Thanos to you.
“Are you alright?” – he asked you. Thanos moved his head to block out his vision to you. – “What you think your doing?” – Thanos called out unbothered. Player 001 turned his gaze to Thanos with disgust. Thanos wanted to push him back. Before his hand even touched player 001, it got grabbed. Calling it out in pain as his palm got twisted.
Nam Gyu came joining to back his mate up. – “Ya! You jerk!” – he called out shoving you out the way by your shoulder. Player 001 kicked with his foot at the top of his foot. Just where his foot ended and his leg began. A soft spot. Nam Gyu shouted loud in pain, hopping on one foot. Thanos tried to fight back but player 001 already had him. Twisting his arm more that his whole body squirmed in pain.
Player 001 using little effort to subdue them to pain. Nam Gyu came at him again with more anger. Player 001 simply kicking him back so that he fell to the ground. He then grabbed Thanos by his shoulder, having enough of his foolishness. Giving him a kick in the stomach that he doubled over. Thanos needed but a little push to fall over. Groaning in pain on the floor. Player 001’s stern gaze went up to you, making you gasp slightly frightened.
He held his hand out to you. Your eyes lingering on the O on his chest. He had also chosen to stay in the game. Because of him you weren’t able to leave. He kept holding his hand out, waiting for you to take it. Looking down at Thanos and Nam Gyu squirming in pain, you decided to subdue to your protector.
Letting your hand slide in his. Player 001 closed his hand over yours. Gently tugging at you to follow him. Getting in motion, you stepped over Nam Gyu to let him guide you. He turned around, leading you back to the back of the bed constructions. – “Are you alright?” – player 388 asked with concern. You nodded with a soft hum.
“Wha! Those punks have some nerve.” – player 390 added. You came sitting down beside player 222. She smiled shyly back at you, keeping a protective hand over her stomach. Player 001 walking a platform higher to go sit down there. – “Tha… thank you.” – you said not wanting him to think you were ungrateful.
Feeling his tense gaze stare so firmly through you. It made you feel insecure. Unsure what his intensions would be. Shifting your gaze away from him till your gaze fell on the walls. Almost haven forgotten what you were doing. Player 001 narrowed his eyes on you. Wondering what fascinated you this much behind him.
Your attention got pulled away by player 388 shouting loud that you also had an X on your chest. – “She’s an X’er. She’s one of us!” – he called out cheerfully. Player 456 pulled at your tracksuit to see the X for himself. His eyes then fell on your number 400.
You pulled his hand off you, straightening your tracksuit. You looked around seeing both X’s and O’s sticking to their tracksuits. Exhaling loud, you let your face fall into your palms. – “Player 400.” – a deep voice said, making you look from where the voice was coming from. Your gaze meeting with his.
He moved his hand, letting it draw down his jawline to his neck. Widening your eyes, you understood the hint. Taking your sleeve to rub it against your neck. Looking down at it, you saw the stain of blood on it. It made you immediately roll it up so you didn’t have to look at it.
“Lights out in 30 minutes.” – the emotionless woman’s voice spoke over the intercom. It made you swallow nervously that you had to spend another night here. Your eyes meeting with player 222, seeing the same fear in her eyes. Player 456 took the lead to speak. – “Just one more game and we can vote again for our leave.” – he addressed. – “Gi Hun, I’ll sure vote X now.” – player 390 replied with some shame.
“Me too.” – player 001 answered looking over at Gi Hun. His gaze then lowering on you. Remaining there with such comfort. – “You won’t know that for sure.” – you responded keeping your gaze at player 001. You then hinted at the other O’s across. – “They won’t stop at one more game.” – you knew it was a lying hope to think tomorrow would be the last game.
You knew the O’s would never stop. Too blinded by the money and adrenaline of surviving. You got up with a deep exhale. All was hopeless. – “Player 400.” – player 456 called out, making you stop midtrack. You turned round to him. – “I promise you we can turn the tide.” – he said. How cute it was that he still had hope in this deathtrap. – “I’d like that.”- you responded with a faint smile. You were about to head the last few steps down, till you stopped once more.
Wanting them to know your name. Numbers were so unpersonal and you hated being a number. – “Y/n.” – you told them. Looking over your shoulder you saw Thanos throw you a kiss from afar. Player 001 got up. – “Stay.” – he said luring you in with his eyes. Eyes locking with yours, you couldn’t look away.
Debating for a moment if you should find a bed here with this group from a dead player or return to your own. You felt like being torn between two battles. Stay here or venture out there with Thanos and Nam Gyu to find you more easily. Knowing they wouldn’t stop till they had their clutches on you.
Seemingly finding you an easy prey to manipulate into joining their side. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your beating heart. Ready to fall out of your chest that you would endure another night here. Player 222 took your hand, tugging on it. Hurling you back to reality. – “If you have room for me.” – you answered taking your decision. Player 222 gestured at a bed beside hers.
You lowered yourself to crawl to the next bed. Player 001 still watching you till everyone left for their beds. Waiting there. Lying there, staring at the bed above. You rolled over to your side, curling up. Shuddering out a breath. Hoping your dreams wouldn’t be haunted by the deaths. Then. Lights out.
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#imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#squid game#squid game 2#squid game season 2#squid game s2#squid game fic#squid game fanfiction#squid game fanfic#imagine squid game#squid game imagine#gi hun seong#player 001#player 001 x you#player 001 x reader#player 001 x y/n#hwang in ho#young il#young il x you#young il x reader#young il x y/n#young il x player#gi hun#thanos#young il fic#young il fanfic#young il fanfiction#young il imagine
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Feeding
Male Half-Demon Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader CW: Noncon, blood drinking, biting/cutting for blood, making out, drugged sex, drugged reader, forced addiction, overstimulation, reader fucked well and truly out of their mind whilst high on demon blood, aftercare, general yandere behavior Word count: 1.6k (Sorry this took forever. The image of reader sitting on dick while sucking blood from a wrist was living rent free in my head and I had to write this. Written on my phone, hopefully I fixed all the weird formatting and typos.)
The full moon shone brightly in the clear winter night. With each exhale, your breath plumed out visibly. The shadows of trees stretched long and spindly, grasping for a material world they were incapable of grabbing hold of. You hid amongst the bushes, silently watching the small bar in front of you. It was a secluded place. Quiet and down the road from anything else. Perfect for a person to grab a drink. Even a vampire like yourself. This was your first night in this town, but there were almost always places like this to slake your thirst.
Wait for a drunk customer to come stumbling out and nab them to have a drink of your own. Then, if you needed to, use your hypnotic powers to make them think it was all a dream.
That's what you had intended tonight. But then you caught a whiff of a human that smelled much more tempting than any other you had ever encountered.
The bartender. Your sharp ears could pick up his name even from outside. Wade. Not that you needed to bother knowing it.
You decided to wait for the last lingering patron to leave the bar before sneaking in and making your move. It took a few hours, and your joints grew stiff in the cold, but finally, the bartender was alone, and you could make your move. You were practically salivating as you slipped into the bar, and his scent hit you more directly. You couldn't wait to taste what waited in his veins. Luckily, you didn't have to.
"Sorry, we've just closed," he said as he heard you enter.
With superhuman speed, you rushed behind him, barely having time to note the surprised expression on his face.
You wasted no time on pleasantries and sank your fangs into his neck.
Instantly, you were lost in his flavor. His blood was glorious. But after one drink, your eyes glazed and your thoughts were foggy.
He plucked you off of him easily, and you fell to the floor, dizzy and confused but yearning for more of him. You were so thirsty. A mild sense of euphoria washed over you, but your body felt weak and wobbly.
Wade stared down at you, smirking. His brown hair turned silver, small black horns sprouted from his forehead, and his hazel eyes glowed red.
"What's wrong? Bit off more than you could chew?"
Not much blood had been consumed, so you started to get to your feet, but Wade wanted you nice and helpless. He rubbed his fingers to the bite mark you had left and shoved his fingers into your mouth and smeared the drug on your tongue. You immediately slumped against the counter.
He went and locked up the bar before returning to your side and administering another hit of his blood. You eagerly drank it up. It was too irresistible.
Then he gently led you downstairs where he apparently lived.
"Didn't realize I was part demon or didn’t know demon blood was like a narcotic? Maybe you didn't know either of those..."
He tossed you on the bed rather unceremoniously.
"Thought you were gonna get an easy meal, but you're gonna feed me too!"
Assuming that he ate beings with magic, you looked up at him with a horrified expression and scrambled to get off the bed. He stopped you and pushed you back.
"I'm nourished by intoxication and addiction the way sex and lust nourishes an incubus," he explained, having noted the fear on your face.
Though you still had a fierce thirst for his blood, you weren't addicted. Yet. Just significantly increased blood cravings. You had the presence of mind to know what he intended, and you didn't want to be a captive.
"You can't do this!"
The effects of his blood on your body were rapidly wearing off. It had only been a small amount. You could use your speed to zip awa-
"I can do whatever I want to a little leech like you~"
Wade pinned you on the bed and used the sharp nail of his thumb to slice his wrist before shoving his wrist to your mouth. You tried to turn away and keep your mouth closed, but you could feel the warm blood tingle your lips, and the smell was all-encompassing. Tired of your struggles, he smacked you hard across the cheek. You could have shrugged off a strike from a normal human, but he had demonic strength. As he had anticipated, you cried out in pain. With your mouth open, he jammed his bloody wrist right into your mouth.
Once a drop had touched your tongue for the third time that night, all your resolve melted away. You relaxed under him and greedily lapped at his wrist. Now that it was in you, you needed more.
As you gave into your dark desires and fed off Wade, he fed off the intoxication and the budding addiction growing inside you.
But the whole situation had his cock straining painfully in his jeans.
He maneuvered your clothes off as well as his, but your attention was focused on your meal. You whimpered and grabbed for his arm as he pulled it away to lube up his cock. Just because he was doing this for nourishment didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. Besides, being all cute and needy for his blood made you look far too tempting for the half-demon.
He pulled you into his lap and slid his thick cock into you.
Wade put his arm up to you so you could suckle from his wrist as he slowly fucked into you. A large demonic cock like Wade's would have stretched and hurt the hole of any human, but you were far more durable. In fact, it felt quite nice. His blood seemed to heighten pleasurable sensations while reducing unpleasant ones.
You moaned softly as you fed.
"That's it, take alllll you want babe. I regenerate faster than you can drink."
It must have been true. His wound had healed and you had to bite his wrist to draw more blood. He didn't seem to mind.
The demon kissed your neck and sucked it softly as he continued pumping into you. Never too hard to interrupt your meal.
He kept the slow and considerate pace until you had finished. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of your face, your eyes glossy and half lidded. You were barely cognizant of your surroundings anymore. All you knew was that you felt warm, happy, relaxed and, for the first time since you had turned, alive.
Wade angled your face towards him and kissed you deeply from behind, enjoying the taste of blood from your lips and the rush of energy he got from getting you high. He brushed his tongue against your fangs to draw blood so you could suck it while the two of you made out sloppily. The half-demon broke the kiss, a sanguine string of saliva and blood connected your lips for a moment. Wade hastened the tempo of his thrusts into you as his mind raced over the implications of having you.
A human would have died from just a drink of demon's blood. That's why he blended each bottle of booze in his bar with but a single drop. Just enough to subconsciously coax humans to crave coming back to his bar and give Wade a bit more intoxication to sustain himself. But he didn't have to hold back with you at all.
Rapturous moans left your body as your pleasure reached its zenith. Your normally frighteningly pale face was actually flushed.
"You enjoying yourself?" Wade smirked and kept going.
You could only weep silently as the overwhelming sensations from the drug and sex mingled into an overwhelming wave of ecstasy bearing down brutally upon you.
With supernatural stamina he kept going for hours, he readministered his blood as needed. Every time he made you cum you whimpered. Each orgasm seemed to hold within it a greater and greater threat of throwing you off the brink of sanity and shattering your mind.
By the end of it, when he had finally had enough after filling you with cum over and over again, you were a shaky drooling mess. His demonic features faded away as he picked you up. Then he took you to the tub and bathed you gently, getting all the dried blood off your face and cleaning up all the semen leaking from your hole.
"Sorry I had to give you so much. Have to get you hooked on it."
Wade picked you up and wrapped you in a soft towel. You were too out of it to respond.
"The crashes aren't bad though at least. Extreme cravings but no life threatening illness or anything."
He kissed your forehead and tucked you in before getting under the covers and spooning you.
"You're gonna love it here I promise. All the blood you want. I'm not just keeping you here to feed me, I could see glimpses inside your mind when your inebriation nourished me."
The half-demon ran a hand soothingly up and down your side.
"I know we're compatible lovers. You'll see."
You could hear his words but could just barely process them.
"B-but.." You protested weakly.
"Hush now. You need to rest."
He put his arm around your waist and held you protectively. It was so much easier to just let sleep claim you than it was to resist.
Wade stayed up far longer though. All the thoughts of the wonderful life you two would share together running through his head and keeping him awake. It would be amazing. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.
He'd treat you so well and make sure his little vampire was always happy. And he'd keep you hopelessly addicted to his blood. You'd be so helpless and dependent on him that you'd simply never be able to escape.
#yandere teratophilia#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#gender neutral reader#yandere monster#male yandere x gn reader#my ocs#yandere boyfriend#yandere#male yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere demon#yandere half-demon#vampire reader#My OC Wade
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Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed
UPDATE: Part 2
I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:
DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.
It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.
You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.
He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?
Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.
Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.
You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.
Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x female reader#potchy-writes#potchy-thoughts#spiderman 2099 x reader#dbf!miguel
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✦ . ⁺ . baby fever - lando n . ⁺ . ✦
lando wanted a baby. lando wanted to stuff that pretty cunt full of his cum and tilt your hips in a way that none of it leaked out. he wanted it filled, stuffed, crammed in there. he didn't want a single bit of it wasted. if he had keep a toy between those soft legs of yours to keep it in you. it all had to take, right? and lando knew that you were a good girl for him. so get that biology to work and make him a baby. the thought of it excited him as he walked around the paddock, it was like a buzz in his brain, the need to corner his love and stuff you full of what is his. he knew after his race, he'd have you spread out on the bed, with your soft thighs around his waist as he fucked into you. his large hands groping your breasts as he watched you melted on his cock. he loved you with your heels to your head, arms hooked under your knees to give him the perfect angle to fuck into you. eyeing your beautiful body as he bruised your sweet insides.
he can already picture you with the cute bump, he wondered how your body would change during the pregnancy. his large rough hand across your prominent bump. the two of you raising them. you'd be such a good mama, a much better life than whatever you got your university degree in. a real proper wag for him. now that excited him, sometimes his cock drooled pre-cum in his boxers when his thoughts lingered on you. but he'd rarely masturbate, he believed that if he didn't then there would be more to spill inside of you. to push up into your soft little womb and make him a father. he was a pervert for you, he made sure he got you into positions that sated his need to breed you. he watched you get dumber and dumber as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. there was no running and there was no hiding. afterwards he'd kiss your head and pray. let it work, all it needed to do was work once.
lando was a focused driver, when he got his mind on something he saw it through to the end. so was he on his phone figuring out how to slip you fertility drugs? yes. did that make him a bad partner? no. he knew that it would be best for both of you. he made more than enough to support a growing family, so let him mix some of the crushed up pills into your dinner over the summer break. he wanted to see that baby fat on your hips, something to squeeze was he fucked you. you'd be forever marked by him. your body changed because of his actions. maybe focused wasn't the word he should be using, maybe it should be obsessive.
he was obsessive when he rutted into you like a dog. his cock hitting all your sweet spots. his mouth hung open as he moved against you, some spit dripping off his tongue and into your mouth. the sight of you swallowing it only drove his crazy. it made him move against your harder, move you into positions where he could go deeper. you were perfect, an angel from heaven sent to give him everything he desired. you were the woman for him, and he was going to cement that fact by making sure there was a baby in your belly. it all sent excitement through him like a wire as he finished inside of you. but as he got you on your knees, he knew that he wasn't finished yet. even went as far as to finger your cum soaked pussy while he jerked his slick cock off to get hard again. you stay under him, beautiful, you looked prettier there.
but all of his actions saw the results that he hoped for. it took several months, but now you were at the pool near your shared home with a slight curve in your middle and a lando norris who was like your shadow. you were having a baby girl and lando couldn't have been happier. he assured you with his large hands on your growing middle that she'll take after you. and while you kissed him on the lounging chair you were on, the wheels in lando's head were turning.
after your had your daughter, he was going to try for a son as well. <3
a/n: haha lando, you can't do that!
#bunny writes#bunny drabbles#lando norris x reader#lando smut#lando x reader#lando norris#lando#ln4 smut#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 fic#form#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#formula racing#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1#f1 drabble
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d. lizewski as your boyfriend
summary: dating dave lizewski headcanons!
pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader
wc: 407
warnings: smut at the end
a/n: omg!! thank you guys so much for 100 followers that so cool. but also tell me why my friend read my last fic chy im so embarrassed, if ur reading this hai heh. heres a little drabble with some smutty stuff as a filler until i can make a real fic again. likes and reblogs appreciated!
clingy as hell! this goes hand and hand with him being a jealous bf, hes always holding some part of you, because he wants people to know your his and also because he loves touching you
hes a jealous boyf cuz hes a little insecure, not growing up with a lot of female attention then bagging a beautiful girl like you can make him doubt himself
but you always reassure him, telling him hes the best thing to happen to you and he returns those feelings
you cleaning him up after he gets off patrol and him being completely covered in bruises and marks
scolding him on how dangerous being kick ass is and if he isn't gonna be more careful, you want him to stop
it taking him forever to admit to you he was kickass cause he didn't want you to judge him
comic book dates where you buy dinner and a new comic book and he tells you every detail about it
random rants while watching his favorite shows or movies on what's accurate and what's not
him sneaking into your window late at night to cuddle
him bragging to his friends about how perfect you are and how your the best girl in town
make out sessions after school in alleys behind dumpsters
movie nights at his place, you two are curled up on his bed with a bowl of popcorn but by the end of the movie, the popcorn's on the floor, and your both making out
definitely a hand holder like he'll hold your hand wherever, he doesn't care who see's
loves pda cause he likes when you show him off
threatens to beat up anyone who messes with you, but you decline with a giggle
nsfw below the cut
loves make out sessions, could literally eat your face for hours
definitely whimpers lmfao hes such a crybaby when hes about to cum
you guys took each others v cards, so even though your first time was super sloppy and you didnt exactly finish, it was still so amazing and romantic
def a tits guy, will just stare at them for as long as possible
hes one of those gross tongue kissers that doesn't really ease into the kiss, he just shoves his tongue down your throat *you dont really mind that tho*
him fucking you in his suit, it turns him on so bad, him being fully clothed while ur bare in front of him
DEFINITELY A MUNCH literally will eat you out for hours asking "is this good?"
#dave lizewski#kick ass#dave lizewski x reader#aaron taylor johnson#dave lizewski x fem!reader#kick-ass#kick ass 2010#dave lizewski x you#dave lizewski imagine#dave lizewski fanfic#dave lizewski smut
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Feral Desires
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
A/N; This feels like a crazy jump from my first smut I posted lmfao 🫡 it was also crazy writing this, I haven’t written omegaverse in forever despite it being a favorite
Summary; You’re on a mission for the First Order, well away from your alpha, which means it’s the perfect time for your heat to start out of nowhere.
Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, omegaverse, omega reader, alpha Kylo Ren, mated to Kylo, heats, ruts, nesting, fingering, piv sex, knotting, biting/marking, scent marking, breeding kink, A LOT of breeding kink, protective and possessive Kylo, also very loving Kylo, tiny bit of size difference kink, conservative views on omegas (mostly pertaining to suppressants), omegaverse terms (kids referred to as pups), fluff
Wc; 6.4k
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
You thought it would be fine.
It should’ve been fine.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, gods, this was not supposed to happen.
Your heat was not supposed to start a month early right when you leave on a mission.
Everything had seemed okay at first; you gathered your troops after getting your assignment—investigate an uninhabited jungle planet’s surface and find out what the First Order could gleam from it. You had bid farewell to Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader and also your mate. Through your bond both in the Force and in the bite mark on your neck, you could tell how apprehensive he was to let you go. It had taken some convincing, but he’d allowed it. If he wasn’t swamped in a million other responsibilities that come with his new position, he would’ve joined you.
The trip to the planet had gone without a hitch, and everything had seemed like it was in perfect order. You were the first to step foot on the surface once your ships’ doors had opened with a hiss of depressurized air. It was quite beautiful when you took it all in; covered in lush vegetation and impossibly tall trees covered in moss, a few of which your ships had unfortunately crushed on their way down. Sensors indicated that the air was nontoxic and clean so you had gladly taken a deep breath. Smells came stronger to you with your aberrant status, meaning you could practically taste the planet on your tongue. It was damp and full of the smell of wet leaves and bark, along with the reek of wild animals you didn’t know the names of. Said animals were calling through the trees in chirps and barks. It was quite nice.
Stormtroopers fanned out, beginning to take notes of anything that seemed of importance or interest. You and your lieutenant, a beta named Mallory who’d been by your side for many years, were in charge of placing down beacons and sensors that would give you every piece of data you’d need. It’d tell you what’s beneath the planets surface like ores and minerals and what kind of regeneration systems it had. It’d be a slow process; taking scans of an entire, huge planets surface wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. That’s why you were given a weeks timeline for this mission. Easy enough.
Until you’d gotten a prickling on the back of your neck, until an odd amount of sweat started to build at your collar, until you could barely hold on to your data pad because of how slippery your palms had become. You’d tried to ignore it, tried to ignore those telltale signs because surely your heat wouldn’t be starting now? Surely it wouldn’t have been catapulted forward a month because your body got confused by you leaving your alpha and was doing what it needed to in order to bring him back?
“General? Are you alright?” Mallory asks you.
You realize you’d been standing there looking at your data pad like an idiot while warmth and sweat builds beneath your uniform. You look up and try to blink the haze out of your vision. Suddenly all those smells from before are so overwhelming. “I think I need to go back to the ship.” You mutter. You’re not stupid, you do realize it’d be irresponsible to try and ignore this. Hell, you can’t even get yourself to take a step forward when all you want to do is go back to your ship where the scents are familiar.
Mallory tenses, noticing the flush in your face and the way your demeanor is so off. She may be a beta but she’s still able to recognize the onset of a heat, especially yours after being your lieutenant for so long. That’s why she goes with you everywhere, to keep an eye on you. She’s perfect for times like these. “Okay. Let’s go, quickly.” She says, a gentle hand on your arm guiding you back the way you came.
She says commands through a radio while you walk, instructing the next in charge—a fresh-face captain—to continue the observations so they can at least get something out of this. You feel guilt pierce through your roiling stomach, cursing yourself over and over for not being able to see a very simple mission to completion. It’s embarrassing. It makes you wish you were able to take your damn suppressants again.
You haven’t taken them for about three years, ever since you became mated to Kylo. As soon as that happened, all of your suppressants were tossed and every medic on the Steadfast was strictly forbidden to give you any. If any were discovered, you knew exactly what price they’d have to pay. Before all that, you’d taken them regularly to give you some peace aboard the ship and keep your position as general safe. People were more willing to trust you with things if your omega status was… muted. It was easier to ignore.
The only reason you really got to keep your job was because you were damn good at it and you kept being an omega from getting in the way, so nobody cared. It was simple. Then Kylo came along, discovered you were Force sensitive, began to train you, and you fell for him hard. You ended up becoming his mate, his teeth laying claim to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, right where your scent gland starts. He bears a similar mark from your own teeth. He was gracious enough to let you remain as a general, even if every primal instinct he has tells him to keep you away from your job because it’s dangerous. All because he knew how upset it’d make you if he took it away, and because you’re actually competent.
However, it puts you in situations like this where you’re trying to fight off an oncoming heat while you’re on an unknown planet in an unknown space and your alpha is a galaxy away from you. You’ve learned that your status as an omega comes before your position as a general.
Mallory gets you back on to your ship that’s specifically assigned to only you two for your own safety. Never before have you been so grateful for that. She heads towards the cockpit immediately, taking her seat in the pilots chair and flipping switches. You slink towards the back of the ship, craving an enclosed space and cold air. Your heat hasn’t hit you full force yet, but you know it’s a matter of hours. You know it’s a matter of hours until your brain is pure incomprehensible mush, until your body is on fire, and until there’s a need inside so deep that it consumes your entire being and only one man can satisfy it.
It always starts out slow, with everything feeling just a bit too sensitive and your temperature rising. Then you feel it in every gland you have, a slight throb to them as your scent changes and pheromone production skyrockets. You get sweaty and those stiff uniforms the First Order requires feel like they’re boiling you alive—hence why you’re removing your jacket now. Next is the nesting, creating your own little safe space where nothing can hurt you and it’s only for you and your alpha.
It’s extremely difficult in a sterile, empty ship. You can feel your omega start to panic as it realizes there’s nothing to nest with besides your own jacket and a thin, scratchy blanket from an emergency kit in the ship. Nothing with Kylo’s scent, nothing to keep your alpha close, nothing safe, it’s not safe, oh gods-
You whine low and sad in the back of your throat as you hopelessly try and try and try to rearrange your two items into something satisfactory in your little corner. It doesn’t work of course. It only serves to send you into more of a frenzy, wishing for anything else, wishing you were back on the Steadfast, back in you and Kylo’s shared rooms where you could make as big a nest as you want with his full closet at your disposal. Comfy sheets, pillows, big capes covered in his scent… thinking about it is not helping.
The ship rumbles to life beneath you and you can feel its vibrations from how your body is pressed against the floor. The cold metal helps to keep the fever raging through you at bay. You’re curled in on yourself, your hands at your neck massaging your aching glands and the bite mark that resides there. It does little to soothe your pain but it’s all you have. You faintly hear Mallory talking, though it’s drowned out by the buzzing in your head. Until a familiar, deep voice crackles through the ships comms and has you sitting up immediately, your attention laser-focused.
“I want her back on the Steadfast immediately.” Kylo says. He sounds angry, livid perhaps. It’s enough to make you feel the need to submit despite the fact he’s not even mad at you. Hearing him does something to your bond akin to reigniting it across the distance between the two of you. It gives you the smallest bit of a connection to cling on to and you wrap yourself in it, enjoying it while it lasts. You can feel his emotions, his need for you like you need him. He’s angry he isn’t there, that he can’t provide for his omega like a good alpha should. He’s irrationally scared too—scared that something might happen to you, that some other alpha might try to get to you. He’s like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off on anyone he deems fit.
“Yes, sir, I understand.” Mallory says. She looks over at one of the monitors, pressing a few controls on the screen. “Based on what fuel remains and if I avoid active fuel preservation, it should take about five standard hours to reach your coordinates.”
Five hours. By the time you reach the Steadfast, you’ll be well intro the throes of your heat, accelerated by the fact Kylo isn’t there to help you. You haven’t had a heat without your mate for a long time and your body is not happy about it. A wave of depression and anxiety washes over you, your fingers digging into the blanket and threatening to rip it.
Kylo can sense that, sense how panicked and upset you are and it only makes his rage grow. He knows he can’t do anything about the length of your return trip and it makes him feel useless, like a sorry excuse of an alpha. You almost feel bad for the staff back on the Steadfast. “If anything happens to her, I’ll have your fucking neck.” He snaps, voice crackling through the comms.
Mallory takes the threat with neutrality. It’s nothing new to her. “Yes, sir. You have my word that I’ll keep her safe.”
Kylo calls your name suddenly and it has you stumbling to your feet and towards the radio. You grasp at the back of Mallory’s chair to keep you stable. “Alpha?” You ask, voice unable to hide your desperation.
“I’m sorry this happened. It’ll be better soon.” Kylo promises, his tone softening just a bit when he talks with you. “Be good in the meantime.”
You nod even though he can’t see it. “I will, alpha.” You’d do anything he asks.
With that, the radio clicks off and he’s gone. It felt like the only support keeping you upright was just ripped away from you, his presence in your bond fleeing and leaving you with nothing. It made your chest constrict and heat lick down your back, everything seeming to spin. Mallory rises from her chair after putting the ship on autopilot. “Go lay back down. I don’t want you to collapse.” She says. “And take these.” She hands you two bottles of water that were brought along in case of emergencies. You’re going to need them more than anything with how much fluid you lose during your heat. You down one of the bottles immediately.
You obediently take the other back to your “nest”, spending another ten minutes trying to rearrange your blanket and jacket. You eventually just give up and flop down with your knees tucked up to your chest, trying to ignore the ache across the entirety of your body. Your thoughts are still coherent at least, though you can feel them steadily slipping away. Your omega just wants Kylo, wants him more than anything. Wants his scent, his strong arms, his lips on your gland, his knot.
There it is. You whimper, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood as you feel the first trickle of slick seep into your underwear. Your breath comes out in pants that fog the metal paneling under you, your face feeling like it’s on fire. You writhe on your blanket, distracting yourself with movement and trying to find any kind of position that provides relief. Squeezing your legs together helps a little, putting some pressure on your clit and releasing more slick. You know this pair of underwear is going to be unsalvageable by the time this is over.
You can feel the slick start to stain your pants, creating a wet spot that’ll keep spreading. The ache has moved lower, now settling in your stomach and making you nauseous. Its comes in waves of cramps and hot flashes and gushing slick, creating a combination that feels like actual hell. You know that that’s how it’ll stay with the intensity increasing as the hours pass without your alpha inside you. You wish so badly you could just sleep the time away, close your eyes and open them again to Kylo there to take care of you. But you don’t feel safe enough to fall asleep. Your nest is shit, the ship is too unfamiliar, and you’re right at the beginning of your heat when you’re most vulnerable without your alpha who’s supposed to protect you.
These next five hours are about to be the longest of your life.
» ☆ «
Time passes in a haze.
A haze full of desperation, need, fire raging in your blood, and slick coating your thighs. Your vision is blurred, like a film was put over your eyes. You try to focus on the feeling of the ship underneath you instead of… anything else. The state of being in heat is all you know now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be making a drooling mess of yourself over the thought of your alpha’s cock sinking into your aching cunt.
Mallory has been trying to ignore you the whole time for her own sanity; your whines, moans, panting, and the desperate whispers of Kylo’s name passing between your lips. She’s stayed well away in the safety of the cockpit, focusing on just getting you both back to the Steadfast. Even though she’s a beta and has no specific inclinations, she can still feel the headiness in the air, sticking to the back of her neck and making her skin prickle. This isn’t anything particularly new to her, she’s been by your side for years. She knows what it means to be an omega.
That’s why she’s glad when a final jump through lightspeed sends her sensors beeping and the massive hulk that is the Steadfast appears at the top of the viewport. She keeps her hands from shaking by gripping the controls of the ship, guiding it towards home base. She has no reason to be afraid really, Kylo Ren wouldn’t do anything to her without reason after she’s proved to be so faithful, and he’ll be too focused on you anyway. Still, she can’t help the little kernel of fear in her chest as your ship is latched onto by a gravitational beam and power is taken out of her control.
All of the commotion breaks you from your stupor. You prop yourself up weakly on your elbows, your jacket and blanket soaked in slick in a heap under you from all your twisting and turning. Your face is flushed like the rest of your body, your remaining clothes stuck to your skin because of the sweat. From your place on the floor you can just barely see through the viewport, watching as the ship pulls into one of the hangars. You can sense him now. He’s so close. It’s too bad your legs are too weak to support you, otherwise you’d use them to run out of the ship to greet him.
You feel the ship shake as it settles on the ground and you hear the sounds of it powering down. Mallory rises from her chair to get to the ramp controls, a hiss of depressurized air sounding as it lowers. She steps aside and bows her head as he enters. Finally.
Kylo instantly commands the entire space around him as soon as he comes aboard the ship. It’s like everything else around him fades away because nothing else matters. His black robes do a perfect job of outlining the muscles beneath them, his fractured helmet covering his face and making him look akin to death itself. He locks onto you, you can feel it, and instantly there’s a whine coming out of your throat. Your mate is here, your alpha is here after you had to wait for so long. Your excitement is like a buzzing that encompasses your mind to the point you can’t think about anything else.
And then his scent hits you. It’s musky and heavy, amplified by his rut that was triggered by his omega’s heat. He smells like a campfire in fall, smoky and laced with something like cinnamon. When you inhale it, it’s easy to imagine being in the forests of his home planet with a nice fire to keep you warm. There’s undertones of your own scent mixed in from your mating, creating a nice combination of the two to let anyone know that you belong to one another. His scent instantly becomes the only thing you know and starts your heat all over again, fresh waves of slick pouring from your cunt and cramps seizing your stomach.
Kylo smells it, it slams into him like a freight ship, sending him reeling. He resists every feral instinct in him telling him to pounce on you right then, to pin you down and fuck your heat away, to finally take care of the constant bulge in his pants, knowing that he needs to get you somewhere safe first. Somewhere other alphas won’t be tempted by you, even if you’re mated. His scent on you sometimes isn’t enough to deter the most depraved; his hands clench into fists at the thought, the leather of his gloves creaking.
“Alpha… please..” you whimper, reaching your arms out towards him, needing so badly just to feel him, to touch him. You can barely think straight, the only thing in your head being him, him, him. He can’t deny you anything. The metal panels beneath his boots thunder with the power of his steps, it makes you quiver. Alpha is so strong, so capable.
“I know. I’m here now.” He says as he scoops you easily into his arms, voice crackling through the modifier in his helmet. It sends pleasant shivers down your spine. You can hear how ragged his breathing is, can feel it when his chest is pressed against your cheek. You cling to his padded tunic, the material familiar and comforting beneath your fingers. You become surrounded by his scent and it brings some relief to the pain you’ve been feeling, putting your omega at ease with your alpha finally with you.
You shrink yourself as much as possible in his hold as he walks down the ramp of the ship, your face buried against his arm. There’s a spike of anxiety in your chest once the bright lights and all the different smells of the Steadfast reach you; the sharp metal tang, the hints of sterile cleaning products, and then the sweat and musk of every aberrant in that hangar. It’s overwhelming when you’re fresh into your heat, but Kylo is quick to soothe you. His body produces more of his own scent to mask everything else, pheromones changing ever so slightly to have a more calming effect on you. He’s still not entirely used to the way everything about him is so tailored to you and only you even after all this time, but he loves the pride he feels when he successfully gets you to relax.
All of the workers within the hangar stay well away from Kylo. Nobody is stupid enough to approach the Supreme Leader and his mate with the state you’re in. It would only end up getting their heads detached from their shoulders. He’s given a wide berth while walking through the halls of the ship, taking whatever shortcuts he can to reach your shared rooms faster. Everything feels so hot, your breath coming out in pants and your clothes so unbearable because of the way they’ve been drenched in your fluids. You’re whimpering in his arms, sounding so sad and pathetic as your fingers knead into his chest. “I know,” he says again, softer this time, “I’ll make it better.”
There’s the beep of a control panel as Kylo gets the hydraulic doors to your rooms open, bringing you inside and letting them bang shut behind him. You’re greeted with fresh, cold air against your burning skin and comforting familiarity—your safe space. Kylo goes to set you down and you nearly wail at the thought of losing contact, not able to bear it after being without him for too long. “Just one second, I promise.” He tells you, laying a large hand against your cheek, the leather warm from the heat of his palms. You listen to your alpha like the good omega you are, standing there squeezing your legs together while he removes his helmet. His beauty always manages to enrapture you. His sharp features and pale skin dotted with freckles, the black waves of his hair that fall around his face. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, his pupils blown wide with desire. He carelessly puts his helmet aside.
Then he’s on you. His lips press against yours, hot and needy and wet, his hands coming up to grasp each side of your face. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, your arousal spiking even higher from the urgency in his kiss. You’re surprised you can even produce more slick with how much you’re already covered in but you feel another wave of it drip down your thighs anyway. His tongue licks against your teeth, exploring your mouth that you’ve willingly opened for him.
His hands are heavy weights on your hips. He moves them down to cup your ass, then lifting you easily so your legs are wrapped around his middle. His raging erection presses slightly against your aching cunt and you gasp sharply as a shiver shoots up your spine, causing you to break from your kiss. You can’t help but try to grind down on it, creating a wet spot on his pants from your slick. He groans against you, trying not to drop you from the stimulation.
He’s quick to bring you into the bedroom, kissing you with more fervor. You manage a glance backwards and see just what Kylo’s done to your shared bed. You both barely make it to the haphazard nest he’d made for you in his own desperation, his mind wanting to protect a mate that wasn’t even there and driving himself insane over it. It’s full of dark blankets, pillows, and just about every article of clothing from his closet—soft tunics, capes, undershirts—piled onto the bed so it’s positively drenched in his scent. It’s absolutely heavenly as you fall back into it, surrounded entirely by your alpha. Kylo follows after you, shedding his clothes as he goes and merely adding them onto the nest, the scent of them fresh and potent.
“All for you,” he breathes against you, sticking his face into the crook of your neck, “everything is for you.” He inhales against your gland, tongue darting out to lick sensually at it. You squirm beneath him, moaning openly as your swollen, red gland is finally given attention. His bare hands slip beneath your white tank, pulling it up and over your body, the cold air making your nipples perk up instantly. Your pants and underwear are next to come off and you squeak when your slick becomes chilly against your skin.
“Fuck,” Kylo groans, “smell so good.”
“Alpha,” you whine, wrapping your arms across his wide shoulders to bring him closer, “alpha please…”
The ache and pain you feel is starting to become too much. You need him, you need him to fuck you, to pump you full of his cum and plug you up with his knot. Just the thought of it is enough to make your legs quiver and for your cunt to flutter. He knows exactly what you’re thinking of and he feels the need in himself just as much. He needs to take care of his omega, to make sure you won’t want for anything, and guarantee that you become swollen with his pups. A growl rumbles in his chest, his cock jumping at the idea.
His hand that was on your hip moves lower and he doesn’t hesitate to sink two fingers into your heat. They meet no resistance, sliding in and out with complete ease from the way your body has been preparing yourself for this for the last five hours. You throw your head back, mouth falling open at the relief you feel from finally having something fill you, cunt clenching in appreciation. The sounds your body makes are disgusting, copious amounts of slick being sloshed around by Kylo’s fingers. It’s wet and depraved and nasty and you’re enjoying every moment of it. He uses his thumb against your clit, rubbing back and forth and nearly making you scream. That combined with his mouth altering between the glands on either side of your neck makes it very easy for you to cum. Your body seizes, muscles constricting as pleasure wracks your body.
You can feel part of that fire within you finally die down, but it’s still not enough. There’s still an ache nestled deep inside you that his fingers can’t help with. “Please! Alpha, please, more..” you cry, grabbing at his arm to try and pull him up, to make him give you what you want so badly. You need his cock, the thing red and begging for attention, standing tall against his abdomen and dribbling precum.
His fingers withdraw from the warmth of your cunt and it makes you wince and whimper at the loss, your legs immediately trying to close and rub together in an attempt to get some friction. “What a desperate thing you are.” Kylo mutters, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth and running his tongue along them to gather your slick. You’ve seen him do this countless times but it still has your face blushing furiously. He hums his delight. “Delicious, as always.”
He gets his hand under your back, scooping you up and flipping you onto your stomach. He tugs you towards him harshly, repositioning you like a doll so your ass is in the air, your face pressed against the materials of the nest. Kylo’s scent overwhelms your nostrils, heady and aroused. A mixture of slick and cum oozes from you, dripping down the lips of your cunt and your clit and onto the bed below. You wiggle your lower half, trying to entice him. “Please… need you..” you say, voice muffled by the pillow you’re currently hiding your face in.
Kylo’s hands run from your breasts, down your sides, and settle on your hips, the rough texture of his callouses making you shiver. “My beautiful mate.” He whispers, enthralled by your body as his eyes trace over it. The head of his cock prods at your entrance and you suck in your breath. You nearly sob as he sinks to the hilt inside your cunt not even a second after, your nails digging into the blankets below you from how full you feel. Kylo stretches you to your limit, getting so deep into you it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. He sighs in relief, his massive body bending over yours so his forehead rests against your shoulder. His chest is so warm against your back, his big muscled arms braced on either side of you. You’re basically caged in and pinned down, completely at his mercy. You couldn’t be happier. Your omega keens at the attention, at your alpha displaying his complete dominance over you.
His first thrust is bliss—sliding out of you almost entirely before slamming back in, his pelvis pressed sharply against your ass. He does it again, and again, getting steadily faster with each one until he’s built up a steady rhythm that has your entire being shaking with the power of it beneath him. Your mouth hangs open, drool falling from your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head. His grunts and groans and rumbles fill your ears, your own moans rising to meet them. He presses his lips against the gland that bears your bite mark, breathing you in again and moaning. “My mate, my mate,” he says reverently along your skin, “fuck- m’gonna fill you so good. You’ll give me pups, won’t you? You’ll make me a strong heir.”
“Yes! Yes, anything!” You wail. To your heat addled mind, nothing sounds better. Nothing sounds better than him filling you so full of his cum that there’s no way you don’t get pregnant. You want him so deep that he gets directly to your womb. You want to satisfy your alpha, you want to show him how obedient you are. Yes, you’ll do whatever he wants.
“My good girl.” Kylo praises, sucking your gland into his mouth and making you scream from the pleasure. It’s so shockingly intimate, warmth blooming in your chest and spreading along your body. He’s always been obsessed with your glands, even before you were mated. Your scent brings him so much comfort, such a feeling of home that he can’t stay away. He has his nose buried in the crook of your neck whenever he can and he it turns him on when he’s able to get his tongue on them. Your scent sticks to the roof of his mouth, it becomes the only thing he knows, the only thing he can taste. He fucking loves it.
“So good, sweetheart.” He gasps, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair. He watches where his cock disappears into your cunt, entranced. “Needed to fuck you so bad..”
If your brain wasn’t pure mush right now, you’d agree with him. But you can’t think with the way his cock is splitting you open, each thrust piercing your cunt and hitting that spot right at the top that seems impossible to reach without him. It makes it feel like lightning is igniting your blood, your vision flashing white. You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping the blankets until his large hand perfectly eclipses yours, his fingers slipping between your own so you hold on to him instead.
You hear his growl by your ear as his thrusts become more erratic, knowing he’s getting close. His free hand reaches under you to your clit, fingers playing with it roughly. He’s going to make sure you go along with him. You jerk from the added stimulation bordering on overstimulation from the constant pounding of his cock and the sensitivity from you already cumming once. Your moans get louder and louder, punctuated by each thrust he gives you, breaking in the middle and becoming more high pitched than usual. Your breath is pushed from your lungs, the pillow beneath you is soaked in drool.
“Mmn, shit-“ Kylo groans. He sounds drunk when he talks, his words slurred by his rut and pleasure. “Gonna give you pups. M’gonna knot you, you’ll be so good. My perfect mate.”
Yes, yes that sounds like everything you could ever want. “Please, please! Please alpha I need you-“ you beg, finally finding some semblance of your voice. “I need your knot!”
Kylo grunts his acknowledgment, his thrusts picking up the pace as he teeters on the edge. Then you feel it. Swelling begins at the base of his cock, steadily getting bigger. His movements are forced to slow along with it, becoming more and more restricted as his knot grows. Just as you feel like he’s stretched you to the brink, he lowers his head and sinks his teeth into your bonding mark. You scream. You scream so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if someone walking by outside your rooms heard you. Your vision is pure white, you feel like you can’t breathe, and you feel such a deep connection to Kylo in that moment that it pushes you over the edge. You cum harshly around his cock and his knot, cunt spasming. He cums at that same moment, hot ropes of his seed coating your walls white and his knot plugging your hole to keep it all in.
Neither of you move for a good minute because quite frankly, you’re not able to. The aftershocks are enough to keep you frozen, simply panting and trying to catch your breath. Your entire body is buzzing with pleasure and it feels like you’re floating in the clouds. Kylo is the one to come-to first, getting his arms under you to flip you both on your sides so that he’s spooning you, chest pressed firmly against your back and his big body practically engulfing you. The movement jostles his knot and makes more cum spurt from his cock and it sounds like he chokes on his breath.
He sighs, kissing the back of your neck before shifting his attention to your bond mark. Kylo’s tongue runs over it soothingly, almost like an apology for biting you. He just felt the primal need in him to refresh the mark, to let anyone else know that you belong to him. With the way you’re absolutely covered head to toe in his scent, you think everyone across the galaxy will know. “You okay?” He murmurs once he’s satisfied.
You nod, even though it feels like too much work. “Mhm.” You’re exhausted. Your heat was completely fucked out of you… for now at least. You know it’ll come back in an hour or two, ready for the same thing all over again. At least your alpha will be with you this time.
“You did so good, sweetheart.” Kylo says, his voice so full of love and adoration for you. He kisses along your jaw to the back of your ear. “My sweet omega.” You love his praise, you love the moments after when he’s so soft and gentle with you. It makes you feel so safe and happy, like you have everything you could ever ask for. And you do, really, because he’s so willing to get you anything, to provide you with everything.
He’s quiet for a moment before kissing your gland again. You can tell something was bothering him. “Never should’ve let you go on that mission.” He mutters, anger biting at his tone. “I should’ve known it was too close.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect it either.” You say, taking his hand that had been wrapped around your waist into your own. “It’s fine now.”
“I could feel when you were going into heat,” he continues, burying his face in your neck to remind himself that you’re here, “I could feel it and I wasn’t there… it drove me fucking insane. I needed to get to you.”
You can only imagine how it affected him, sensing you across the galaxy and being so incapable of helping you at all. You get glimpses of those past emotions through your bond; how angry he was, how agitated and scared. He’s far more attuned to the Force than you are, so it was much easier for him to connect to you than it was for you to connect to him. He had to just stand back while you suffered.
“Kylo, it’s okay.” You murmur again, bringing the back of his hand to your lips to break him from his thoughts. “I’m here now. You took care of me so well. You built such a good nest.”
That seems to calm him down. “I did? I just threw what I could on to the bed.”
You nod. “It’s far better than what I had in that ship.” You nuzzle into the soft materials. “Good for pups.” Just the mention has his cock throbbing inside you and pushing out more cum, as if making sure that that actually happens. You both groan.
Once he’s done, you sigh contentedly and look around. “Though… maybe just a few things could be fixed.” You say, reaching out to fix said things as you do. They’d been bothering that primal part of you that enjoys the nesting for a while. A pillow was just a bit out of a place, a blanket wasn’t fluffed up enough by just a tad, and one of his capes was just slightly askew. It makes you feel kind of crazy, but it puts your mind at ease. The whole thing has Kylo chuckling.
He brushes hair back from your face. “You should rest while you can.” He orders. “You’ll need it.”
You’re already starting to feel drowsy again, so you can’t even argue. The low, rumbling purr that’s started in Kylo’s chest adds to it. It’s such a soothing sound—just like a cat’s purr, instantly making your body relax against him. You can feel the vibrations from it reverberated in your back. You curl up as best you can in his hold with his knot still in you, his strong arms secure around your middle. There’s no need for a blanket because Kylo keeps you plenty warm—he’s like your own personal heater.
Laying there in your big, comfy nest with your alpha holding you close and his scent all around you, with your heat finally satiated… it’s so, so easy to fall asleep.
#the nesting is always my fav part sorry#I loooove bein comfy#I’ve been stuck on this one for over a week IM FINALLY FREE#omegaverse#omegaverse x reader#omegaverse fic#omega reader#star wars#star wars fanfic#star wars x reader#alpha Kylo ren#alpha Kylo#alpha Kylo ren x reader#kylo ren#kylo#kylo fanfic#kylo ren fanfic#kylo ren x reader#kylo x reader#kylo x you#Kylo ren fluff#Kylo ren smut
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HEAR ME OUT
“Don’t you think I’m scary?”
“Scary? My god you’re divine”
AHHHHH
FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋
I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻
PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx
fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !
before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.
he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.
he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.
and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'
anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.
usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.
but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.
katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.
but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.
you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."
"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.
he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."
"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.
"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.
pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.
he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.
"behave." you squeeze his hand.
"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.
"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.
you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"
"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.
"..how'd you-"
"your mom told me."
he grunts. of course, it was his mom.
that damn hag..
"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.
"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"
"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.
"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.
"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"
"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.
"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.
cool.
you think he looks cool.
"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.
"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.
"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.
"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.
"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.
"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)
he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.
finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.
"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.
"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask
"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.
"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.
until—
"OW, fuck !!"
your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!
until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.
the. asshole.
"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.
katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"
"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.
"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.
"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.
"i see you laughing."
today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.
#thanks for the ask anon!#it was super fun to write and a fun way to come back from break !#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n
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Ah...
In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.
note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one
warning: pure fluff
Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."
"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.
During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.
Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.
Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.
The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.
Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.
She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.
Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.
"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.
Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.
When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.
Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."
//
Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.
"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?
Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.
But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.
"I want to break up."
And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.
"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.
She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"
He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?
"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.
He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.
This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.
Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.
"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.
"I'm pretty sure I did."
"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"
It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"
She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.
Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."
He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.
"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.
"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."
"I'd actually like to go the other way-"
"Show me your hand!"
Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.
Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.
The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.
"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.
"Yeah."
They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.
"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.
Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.
"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.
//
"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.
"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.
"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."
He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."
//
Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.
"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.
Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.
//
Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.
//
He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.
Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.
It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.
Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.
"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.
"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.
"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.
She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."
"Uuh,"
"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.
Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."
It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.
He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"
"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.
"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.
"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.
He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."
"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.
"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"
"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.
"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.
She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.
"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.
"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.
"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.
"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.
"Teach me."
"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.
"Oscar."
She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.
"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.
"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.
"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.
"I do. Hope I don't overstep."
"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.
"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.
"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.
"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.
"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.
There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."
"I don't even know you."
"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.
The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."
He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"
How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.
"Of what?"
"I dunno...? Of this working out?"
"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."
"...Yes".
"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.
Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."
He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."
"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.
He trusted his gut. "Fair."
//
"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.
"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."
"Why don't you call him?"
"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"
//
Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.
With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.
After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.
She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.
Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.
"Ah."
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