#yall its been too long i miss writing so much

[daegall]

HI YOURE AMAZING your blog is my go to 😔🫶 deleted my tumblr blog for a yr but now im back reading yours 🫣

STTTOOOOOOPPPP what an HONOUR it is to be the one you come back to 🫶 im so sorry for not updating life has been so fast 😭 im graduating in a few months??? like what???? anyway im so happy that I can make you happy!!! how have you been? 😊😊😊😊😊

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[jnkgrnde]

— dating hc’s, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — dating hc’s w pookie

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of apollo)

authors note — some of this is inspired by a clarisse fanfic i read the other day w a child of apollo reader ☝🏾

⭑ alr first things first y’all r the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf WALK W ME!

⭑ like when u first got to camp clarisse was v.. she thought u were different but in a good way.

⭑ she expected u to act like how an apollo kid would except u were like 5x sunshinier and smilier.

⭑ when u decided to hang out w her more often after u arrived people were starting to question things

⭑ like how clarisse wasn’t throwing you in the lake

⭑ the only reason she hadn’t done that yet was because she was starting to like having you around, even if she didn’t act like it

⭑ you’d talk to her about your day, spar w her, etc etc

⭑ that was up until the night you realized you liked her more than friends

⭑ you were pacing around your cabin, biting your nails anxiously; when you got to camp, you decided to read about your father, and that included all of his tragedies family wise and love wise.

⭑ you didn’t want to continue that tradition, so you came down to the decision of avoiding clarisse entirely.

⭑ it started becoming noticeable after about two or three days.

⭑ clarisse was more irritable, and people noticed you weren’t around her as much. a lot of the time you’d write in your journal about it.

⭑ whenever you were at the archery range, you’d up and leave as soon as you saw clarisse.

⭑ she wasn’t happy about this

⭑ this had been going on for what felt like forever; clarisse trying to subtly look for you, and whenever she found you you always managed to leave as soon as she was approaching.

⭑ she would’ve never admitted this to anybody, but she missed you. how you would talk non stop about your day and always ask how hers was going. she missed the way you would get shy whenever she called you sunshine because of your descent.

⭑ she ended up having enough when she called out for you at the archery range and you blatantly ignored her, which is how you two got where you are right now

“y/n!”

you cursed to yourself as you started walking the opposite direction, not even bothering to put your bow down.

she didn’t let you go this time, running up to you to turn you around. you had a slight look of anger and fear on your face, and it hurt clarisse to see you look at her like everyone else does.

“why are you avoiding me?” you avoided her eyes. you weren’t really prepared for what would’ve happened when or if she decided to approach you. “is there something you wanted to tell me? any explanation? at all?” she persisted. “i just- it’s hard to talk about, clarisse.” clarisse frowned. you almost never used her full name. “it’s just me, sunshine. just you and me.”

you breathed deep to calm your aching heart. “i like you.”

clarisse stood dumbfounded. “what?” “i have a crush on you, and i was scared to tell you because of my dad and his history with love. i didn’t want to possibly get you killed all because i loved you.” clarisse looked at you for a moment then put her lips with yours.

her hand found your waist as you gripped her forearm. why and since when was she a good kisser? it was getting heated so you pulled away. “why did you do that?” you asked her breathlessly. “we have more of a chance of dying solely because we’re demigods. if i have to die early, i’d rather die knowing me and you were together through everything.” you nodded. “okay.” you whispered out.

“okay?” she repeated. she looked at you with so much love held in her eyes. “okay.” you started grinning.

⭑ let me wrap this up before it gets too long lmao

⭑ to reiterate what i said earlier, yall are the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf

⭑ whether its in capture the flag or just strolling around the campgrounds, clarisse is very protective of you

⭑ i’d like to believe she would steal some of ur lotion n stuff cs u got GOOD stuff don’t ask me how i know

⭑ you’d also help eachother out w ur hair like braiding them for games etc etc

⭑ she loved ur voice btw. like u had a naturally pretty voice bc of ur dad, so she’d love to hear u talk. bonus points if ur one of those ppl who sing peoples names instead of js saying them normally

⭑ it took her a minute to get used to it, but atp she does not care about pda; she’s showing u off whether u like it or not

⭑ okay thats it clarisse is my girlfriend #confirmed

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 29

Din Djarin + Excessive Cum

Hey yall, super late to finish kinktober, hows everyone doing? Changing my major has been a lot more work than I imagined besides usual classwork, so its only now ive had any free time to write. But I still want to finish kinktober, even if its late.

On the shorter side, since I just wanted to finish kinktober.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Din Djarin let out a shaky whine, soft and quiet enough that the vocoder of his helmet almost didn’t pick it up. He was never one to make much noise, even when you guys had been apart for long when bounties were drawn out, or when you were busy in return.

The only way you could truly tell it had been too long, was the way Din couldn’t control his hips, and how they jolted and twitched into your hands or mouth. Hed jump and jolt like a rabbit, giving short and fast thrusts of his hips as if he couldn’t control himself or his reactions.

He was always so full after you two had been apart. Din never saw a reason to get off on his own. There hadn’t been much need for it before you two got together, when all that mattered to him was bringing credits back to the clan. And after you two became an item, Din only felt it made sense to allow you to be the one to bring him that pleasure.

Hed never known what he was missing as your hands twisted and pulled at his weeping sensitive cock for the first time, his balls so full you almost cooed at him in pity. It must have been so uncomfortable to be so backed up, to be so incredibly full and heavy, ready to blow from the smallest of touches.

The lack of skin on skin contact Din experienced only added onto it, making him even more sensitive as he oozed and dripped in your hands. It seemed as if his body was trying to catch up to the many years of neglect he had given it, now that it knew you were there to empty his balls when they got too full.

It left Din desperate and panting whenever you got your hands on his dick, after you would remove as little armor as possible to get to his crotch or ass. Sometimes he felt like an animal, his jaw hanging open as his eyes glazed over under his helmet. The Mandalorian felt as if you knew the exact expression on his face, even if you couldn’t see it, making him pulse even more.

You were always shocked at just how much Din could cum, no matter how many times you tried to empty him out or milk him like some kind of cattle. It only ever resulted in Dins noises getting so loud that his vocoder crackled at the volume and pitch, his legs shaking as he tried his damnest to fuck into your grip, no matter how sensitive he was.

There was so much to catch, so much to swallow, there had even been a few times where the sudden gush of spend had made some of it shoot out your nose, only making Din moan even louder when he saw it.

it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that someone who never got down and dirty with another being, had a lot of fantasies, and luckily for Din, you were willing to try out most of them, even if that meant allowing Din to stand or kneel above you and spill his seed all over you until he was drained dry.

It was attractive, sure, but also made a real mess. Lucky for the both of you the ship you spent most of your time on had the ability to air out, or else the entire thing would reek of your intimacy. And the closet full of cleaning supplies was restocked regularly. In the end you just liked making Din feel good, and you couldn’t blame him for shooting like a firehose. At least it was hot.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I don’t know if This is the place where people make requests but I was thinking Katsuki and y/n have been friends since childhood but as they grow up Katsuki takes the hero path and y/n chooses the villain path it’s like the 2nd year of UA Katsuki knows y/n is a villain and keeps it a secret she’s also in the class. I don’t know how much I’m aloud to ask but hiiii and if this gets picked thank you

ouuuu this is such an interesting request ! i luv me some angst once in a while ! this is also probably the angstiest fic ive written rn lmfaoo ! i tried to honour your request as best i could and i hope you like it ! (also yall keep enabling my katsuki friends to lovers addiction its not me its yall sooo🤥..) also here, reader’s family is part of a crime syndicate sorta like the chie hassaikai !

fem reader, blood n injuries, kinda angsty but i cant bring myself to fully write angst so take the bittersweetness <33 katsuki claims he hates reader but he doesn’t, reader has a sorta traumatic backstory but if u squint HARD, reader feels guilty, slight miscommunication trope, lemme know if i missed something !

"how long are you gonna keep doing this ?"

you're rolling up your bloody sleeves when you hear the question you'd been expecting fall from your best friends lips.

"what do you mean ?" you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

he narrows his eyes at you, you ignore him "don't give me that shit." he all but growls at you "how many more times are you gonna come to me all fucked up like this ?" you'd expected him to be louder, but you blame that on the fact it’s so late. angrier isn't the term you're looking for, you've known him long enough to know he's trying to hold back his anger. for you. you feel your stomach twisting at the thought.

"as long as you'll have me" you jest, smiling at him. you never took anything seriously. from the time you were kids until now, katsuki hates that about you. "you'll keep taking care of me, won't you suki ?"

you're spoiled, you think everything is a fuckin' joke. katsuki hates that about you.

he huffs, grabbing your outstrechted bruised and bloodied arm "i won't if you keep wakin' me up so late. we've got school tomorrow, you dumbass." his actions are softer than his words, like they always are. he cleans at your injuries with the med kit he has stashed away in his room for emergencies, emergencies being you. you snort and katsuki can barely cover the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

"you're such a goody two shoes." you sigh playfully, but your tone is more loving than playful like you'd hoped.

you'd been hiding your lifestyle from kastuki until you no longer could. coming to him one night heavily injured because you thought he was the only one you could come to, a decision you regret to this day, even as you sit here in his bedroom again.

you'd never meant to get him involved in your mess. katsuki, who's future was so promising. katsuki, who since the ripe age of 5 with starry eyes and bandaged cheeks proclaimed he would be the best. katsuki, who had wanted you to be together when that moment came.

but you had to ruin it. and you're sure that even as he sits there with you and cleans up your wounds, a part of him hates you for it. you don't blame him, how could you ?

you ruined everything. you always do—

you feel a finger flick against your forehead and when you focus again katsuki's eyes bore into yours.

"don't go zoning out on me, idiot. don't go falling asleep on me either. 'f i can't sleep, neither can you." you huff out a laugh at his petulant demand. you hum as he bandages your arm up carefully. " i think i can do that." you sigh.

"i wasn't asking." he retorts, looking up at you seriously "don't go knocking out on me."

you're left speechless at his words. because despite what he says, you know what he means. you've known katsuki for too long not to.

it’s stupid that such a simple sentence has you blinking rapidly, sniffling away the tears forming in your lash line. katsuki sighs. even when you tried acting tough, you’ve always been such a crybaby.

neither of you say a word as he finishes bandaging up your wounds. he insists on rewrapping up your hand and your heart squeezes because you know he’s stalling and it would be time for you to go soon.

it’s for the better, you think. despite your heart tying itself in knots, you won’t allow katsuki to get caught up in them.

he finishes and no words are exchanged. he stares at you, pleading for something you’re not quite sure about, or at least that’s what you tell yourself (you’ve known him way too long not to know what he wants). you avoid his gaze, your eyes growing misty again when you hear him sigh in defeat before he gets up from his bed and leaves the room.

while you’re throwing your jacket on and tugging your dirty boots back on (katsuki was a stickler about keeping his room clean) you can’t help but look around his room. it makes you giggle how he hadn’t really changed that much at all.

he’s thrown out most of his action figures but it seems he just couldn’t separate himself from the all might one’s. he’s still got the all might poster, his pride and joy that he never stopped showing off when you were kids. and then you see something on the shelf where he keeps all his manga.

katsuki walks back into the room and his shoulders visibly sag when he sees you ready to go. you don’t see it though, you’re focused on something on his shelf, he raises a brow.

before he can ask you anything though, you turn to him with a sly little grin, the grin he knows you have when you’re about to say some dumb shit. he hates that about you.

you’ve got a small rubber band looking thing pinched around your finger and katsuki feels his stomach drop.

"you still have this ? " you twirl the braided friendship bracelet you’d made for him when you were kids around your thumb and index finger, giggling when you see katsuki’s expression morph from curiosity to embarrassment. faster than you could blink, he’s already stomping over to you. he wobbles around a little on his bed to reach over your shoulder to snatch the bracelet back.

“don’t go snooping through my stuff !” his fingers are inches away from the bracelet when you switch it over to your other hand. a struggle breaks out where you push and shove at each other. you end up underneath him with him trying to open up your hand tightly clutching onto your bracelet.

“s’not snooping—if it’s just sitting out in the open !” you giggle. he finally manages to snatch his bracelet out of your death grip with a huff and a pinch at your thigh. you don’t miss the way he inspects it carefully before deciding it was unharmed and placing it right back where you’d found it. your heart squeezes despite yourself.

“either way, don’t go puttin’ yer dirty paws on my stuff. you’ll get your germs on them.” he snickers childishly. you’re just as if not more childish because you blow a raspberry at him. katsuki squishes your cheeks out with his hand in response.

you realize you feel a little too comfy, then realize you’re laying in katsuki’s bed and suddenly spring up to try and leave but a hand pushes at your chest, stopping you from doing so. “where the hell do you think you’re goin’, huh ?”

“home ?”

“don’t think so.” he utters simply, pushing you down onto his bed harshly “you’re not going anywhere.”

“katsu—“

“shut up. none of that bullshit you spout all the time” he leans down until your noses almost brush against each other, you inhaling sharply and katsuki grips the sheets next to your head “ if you get yourself in trouble again, i’m the one you’re gonna come bother and i’m trynna sleep. you’re staying.”

the asshole knows exactly what to say to make you feel bad, even if he doesn’t mean to. so you swallow the lump in your throat and concede “okay, fine” you nod “but i gotta leave super early, so don’t be surprised to see me gone when you wake up.”

“s’less trouble for me if you are.” he quips. he’s mean, he’s always been mean. yet his eyes tell a different story. there he goes again with those pleading eyes. the ones that make you want to spill your entire heart and more, to give your life and soul to him. you turn your face away from him.

“stop that.” he whispers, nosing at your neck, your heartbeat picks up and his does too.

“stop what ?” you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

“stop trying to act all hard. you know i won’t fall for that shit. those other extra’s might, but i won’t.” he’s awfully quiet. it almost gives you whiplash how he’d went from wrestling you to doing..whatever this was. you don’t mind, despite yourself. “known you too fuckin’ long, unfortunately.”

“yeah” you choke out “yeah, unfortunately.” you feel tears burning in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, that’d be unfair. you’re not allowed to be upset over something you’d caused.

“for fucks sake’s, yn” katsuki goes from gripping his sheets to gripping your wrists, you close your eyes. “ just—fuckin’—“

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, he pauses.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have come tonight, or any other night” you sniffle “i should’ve—you should’ve forgotten about me.”

you’re babbling, you always do when you get in your own head. when you refuse to tell him what’s bothering you, determined to do everything yourself, katsuki hates that about you. though it’s something he can’t really get too angry at you for, cus he does it too.

you’re babbling and you’re crying like you always do because you’re a crybaby despite acting like you’re not, and katsuki hates that about you. that’s why he sighs and flips you both over so you’re laying on top of him. immediately despite your better judgment, despite claiming he should’ve forgotten you, you cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t.

you’re clingy. you’ve always clung to him. you’re annoying, spoiled and bratty. you make dumb jokes and you never take anything seriously and you cry easily and katsuki tells himself he hates all of that about you.

because it’s easier to say than admit he’s hopelessly in love with you.

he doesn’t care about waking up late to treat your wounds, he’d stay up all night even if it meant fucking up his sleep schedule just to take care of you. he’d give everything he has just to hear you giggle at your own stupid jokes and he’d offer up every limited edition all might figure he has just to stay here and bicker with you over nothing. he’d always comfort you cus you cry easily and he wants to breathe the same air you do constantly, he’d swallow you whole and keep you safe right next to his heart if he could.

you’re clingy, annoying, spoiled and bratty and all of the above but katsuki would do absolutely anything for you.

so he comforts you as you lay crying into his chest. apologizing about something he has no idea about. he’ll ask and he knows you won’t answer him, but he doesn’t care. as long as you’re here.

you fall asleep soon after and you’re still clutching onto him. he reciprocates by holding onto you just as tightly, hoping it keeps you safe as you dream. it’s a stupid thought, he thinks. but it seems you’ve gone and wiped your germs onto his heart.

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” he whispers into the air. you’re still wrapped up snuggly in his embrace and his black sheets. in his room where you’d spent the majority of your childhood together. until you came to him with a snotty nose and big wet eyes and told him you weren’t allowed to come play at his house anymore.

fate must think it’s so fucking funny, because despite you not coming over anymore you’d ended up going to the same school every year afterwards, even now ending up in the same class. and with you sneaking into his room almost every night to have him clean up your injuries.

he knows you’ll be gone in the morning, somehow untangling yourself from his snake like grip. with tired eyes and some treat from that coffee shop you know he likes, your stupid way of apologizing to him. katsuki wants to tell you you don’t have to do that because he’d forgive any crime you commit. he’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you do even though he’s studying to do the exact opposite because it’s you and he loves you. but you’ll get in your own head and start assuming stuff. so he accepts your chocolate covered croissants and splits both with you.

you must’ve hit your head extra hard during your late night excursion to think katsuki would ever forget about you. you’re stupid that’s for sure, and katsuki wants to say he hates that about you. but that’d make him stupid too.

[j0kers-light]

hi bae, ik youve been going thru a rough patch i hope(in fact ik) you’ll bounce back harder.🫶🏻

i really wanted to make a request for a long long time now, no pressure write it whenever u feel like it i am just going to drop it here.

for me J has always been a Lana del rey song specially the ultra violence album, he’s shades of blue, he’s ultraviolenec, smts hes even brooklyn baby. Can you write something dark, like real dark where hes possessive, violent, exatcly like he was in TDK. Pulling stunts and dropping hints. maybe he kidnappes the reader or smt like that, he’s acting all crazy and violent but something inside him just makes him slip to a lil caring or loving side every now and then, which eventually leads to some serious SMUT 😏😏

the reader could be his enemy’s daughter(maybe even batman’s daughter lol i am going wild) he tortures her,loves her, takes care of her then tortures her a lil more but make no mistake the reader is a fireball she gives him that lil fight they have in her which makes J even more attached to her.

ik i am just blabbing and making no sense, but i hope ukwim. i am also attaching a link to my fav J edit ever which might give u an outline of what i am trying to say. maybe even add J’s POV.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CqyP1PdveA9/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

okay ill shut up now. feel better love you 🫶🏻

His Lighthouse: Broken Dolls (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Dolls - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

I feel ashamed that you had to wait so long for this request. Forgive me times a thousand @heathisbae !! I still love you and I got carried away with the word count. (10,500 words!!) I promise you that my blood, sweat, and tears went into this request. You should've let me stay in my enclosure. I LOVE DARK requests and I was in a dark and lonely place when I wrote this. The perfect mood for Broken Dolls.

Gather round children it’s time to go over some legal stuff. I usually do not care about trigger warnings. You are responsible for your own reading pleasure, BUT I’ll add a TW: List because yall gone need it. Chaos had a lil bit too much fun writing this one.. 👀😬

TW! Dark!Joker. rape, knife, blood, impact, choking, power play, dacryphilia, spitting, biting kinks, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, degradation, no prep (foreplay is important kids) uhhhh… I’m missing something. 🤔 It’s canon Joker people. He’s a walking trigger warning.

Just be careful if you decide to read this one. I know I went overboard but your mental health is always my top priority. Enjoy or not. It’s entirely up to you. Since its a dark request, I decided not to tag anyone except @heathisbae Read at your own risk 🖤✨

Your father made it virtually impossible for anyone to find out. By fate’s design, you looked nothing like the iconic figure you called “father”, and you were forever grateful for that. 

Your skin complexion, eye, and hair color masked you from the surname that was your birthright. You were the rumored Wayne heiress that Gotham City whispered about. Many far and wide longed to meet you to strengthen their businesses by marriage, whereas others flat out questioned your conception.  

Bruce Wayne had neither confirmed nor denied the mother of any of his children to the world. Not like he ever would. There were only a few secrets Bruce had left in this world: you being the most important one.  

Your life would be in danger if anyone were to find out you were a Wayne or worse, the precious daughter of Batman.  

Many were adopted into the bat family, but you were blood to Bruce. A last-ditch effort he made to secure his family’s legacy; He hired a surrogate.  

Should Batman ever fall in combat, you could pick up the torch and continue the Wayne legacy.  

At an early age you wanted to make your father proud and wisely decided not to follow in his footsteps moonlighting as a vigilante. The eldest boys, Dick and Jason, celebrated for days. They loved their half-sister and supported every decision you make, but they would’ve put their foot down should you have wished to don a bat suit.  

Instead of violence, you dedicated your life to education. Only the best schools with full ride scholarships—your cv was lengthy as it was profound. You spoke multiple foreign languages, held many accreditations issued from all over the globe, and excelled at virtually every extra-curricular skill you could think of.  

You were a hardworking, driven woman with a no-nonsense attitude. That much, you got from your mother. 

You dominated any boardroom you entered, and your famous e/c eyes could make or break contracts with a single look. Now that was all your father’s genes. You gave the phrase, beauty and brains, a living breathing, mascot and Bruce couldn’t be prouder.  

That unfortunately made you a target.  

You shied away from public humanitarian appearances to avoid being recognized as a Wayne. Too many similarities with Bruce would make people curious. Instead, you worked behind a smokescreen and attended the many charities and sponsorship parties as a third-party spectator to oversee your work.  

That way, you got to see your hard work being implemented into the community—far better results than your father’s monetary donations provided.  

You took pride knowing your hard work was creating a change in Gotham City. With the safeguards Bruce and the boys had in place; it would take an actual genius to put the numerous clues together to uncover your identity. You could live in relative peace while still making a difference.  

Sadly, your long forgotten surrogate mother would soon threaten life as you knew it.  

Joker prided himself in being a vigilant man. Nothing, not even the smallest of details, went unnoticed by him and when it came to his best friend Batman, J took extra care to notice every little thing.  

The level of surveillance Joker did on the dark knight bordered on obsession but in a way, he was. Joker strived to be twelve steps ahead of his arch-nemesis in order to maintain his freedom. Being shipped back to Arkham was not an option, so he took information gathering very seriously.  

Joker knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne for years. He was surprised other Gotham villains or just the local law enforcement didn’t put the clues together. It was so obvious. 

There was no point in telling the world Batman’s not so little secret, but when Joker studied the daily life of Bruce Wayne a bit further, now that was a blackmail gold mine. Having a one up on Bats just felt good and especially when Joker discovered the perfect weapon that would break the man once and for all.  

You. 

Tucked away and hidden in plain sight; Y/n Wayne, the perfect tool for Joker’s plans.  

A father’s worst nightmare, seeing their child in distress, Joker looked forward to scaring Bruce with this latest prank. All he had to do was get close enough to steal you away, but Bruce kept you protected twenty-four seven. Smart man and Joker didn’t blame his bestie for being a protective father.  

There were dangerous people out there who would dream of your demise if they knew the truth! 

No, it was much easier to track down your mother and it was mere child’s play to make her talk. Joker thoroughly enjoyed extracting as much information from the woman before her untimely demise.  

He found it was unfair that she was virtually defenseless while you had security tighter than most world leaders. It wasn’t fair in Joker’s book, so he set out to put your safeguards to the test.  

And what achievement it was to outsmart Batman at his own game.  

You should’ve known better. Dad drilled it into your brain time and time again to always be aware of your surroundings.  

There was no such thing as a coincidence. Things happened for a reason, and it was up to you to detect any signs of danger at any given time.  

The same could be said for that fateful night. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed by a journalist at a charity event. She kept asking probing questions—a few hitting too close for comfort about your identity.  

How ironic that you attended every event the rumored Wayne heiress organized and knew so much about her personal affairs. What a coincidence how reporters asked you questions like you were the boss..  

The curious woman would not leave you alone! Her mindless chitchat felt more like an interrogation by the minute. You feared your identity was compromised after one of her questions rang true, but she simply laughed it off and said that if you were indeed a Wayne, “You’d be way prettier.”  

Whatever that meant.  

Perhaps the comment hit hard since your longtime friend/rival, Lana, stole attention from the fund raiser with her scandalous outfit. The brunette reeked of new money and had an ego the size of Metropolis, demanding attention wherever she went.  

Her appearance ruined your event for helping orphaned kids and turned it into a mini Met Gala. You had every right for storming out to scream into the back alley. She never failed at ruining things!  

You were really letting your frustration be heard when a whistle nearby startled you. 

“Listen to the pipes on that one.”  

You quickly stopped screaming once you realized that you weren’t alone. A lone male was smoking in the same alley, and he locked eyes with you once he caught your attention.  

They were an unnatural green that felt familiar however, you couldn’t place where you might’ve seen them before.  

“By all means... don’t let me keep ya from your.. uhh temper tantrum.” He blew a long puff of smoke into the night air.  

At first you were in shock, but that reaction soon turned into irritation. Just who did he think he was talking to you like that? “I am not having a tantrum thank you very much a-and... you can’t smoke here!”  

He simply chuckled while taking another drag. You crossed your arms and tapped your heels on the concrete as you waited for a response. This guy was something else.  

“Hello? Did you hear me?” You added.  

“Yup.” He popped the letter p, “Loud n’ clear. Pretty sure this area is ah... employees only. Ya wouldn’t catch me smokin’ if ya weren’t out here being a brat, hm?”  

He had a point, but you still scoffed at his choice of words. You had the idea of using your title as the boss of this event to get him fired; yet he would surely talk and by morning, Gotham City would know that you’re a Wayne. That was the last thing you wanted; however, it was worth the hassle if it got rid of him.  

For now, all you could do was shake your head at this strange man breaking your employee’s no smoking rule. You personally selected all the staff for the event and your security team performed background checks on everyone to ensure your safety.  

The gentlemen sitting before you did not jog your memory.  

His presence made you uneasy and you took a step back, “Do I know you?”  

He snorted, smoke emerging from his nostrils in comical puffs. “Uh no, but I knoooo~ooow you.” 

The blood in your veins ran cold when the stranger stood up and stepped into the light. “Didn’t your dad tell ya not to talk to strangers Miss Wayne?” He said mockingly.  

You took one look at The Joker’s grotesque scars and turned to run.  

Joker grinned and let you have a running start although you didn’t get far. Your feet got caught in your dress fabric and made his job relatively easy. The two of you tumbled to the ground, Joker landing on your back, but that quickly changed with a sharp elbow to his nose.  

You didn’t stick around to see if your hit landed, you just scrambled to your feet and tried to reach for the back door when a hand grabbing your ankle disrupted your sense of balance. One second you were upright, the next, you were on the ground seeing double vision.  

Joker didn’t think you’d put up much of a fight. His research into you was limited, but he doubted that you had any of the fighting skills your father was notorious for.  

Technically he was right. You had taken up self defense training from Jason and he reported that you sucked at it.  

Despite your lack of skills and concussion, you weren’t going down without a fight. One of your nails scratched Joker’s elongated smile causing it to bleed and suddenly, he had enough of your little games.  

You were making too much noise, and his window of opportunity to kidnap you was running out. If he didn’t move you soon, his plan would be ruined. You just had to make things difficult for him.  

“Alrighty Y/n, time for a little nap. Shhhhh... shh easy now.” Joker dodged your wild punch to his face as he dug a syringe out of his pocket.  

The sight of it made you panic and fight back harder but your scream of help was drowned out by a roar of applause from inside. The auction must’ve ended with a success. Joker pierced your skin and watched the milky white substance disappear into your system.  

It was cold seeping into your veins as you still tried to fight back.  

“Aht ahttttt don’t fight it. Let it happen.” Joker crooned into your ear; not like you could hear him. Your body felt so heavy, you lost function of your limbs so suddenly it was terrifying.  

The Joker’s obnoxious laugh sounded miles away from you. When your eyelashes fluttered closed, Joker knew victory was his.  

The environment that you woke up in was dark and cold.  

Your limbs were still groggy with whatever The Joker had injected you with and after a few test stretches, you still had motion in them. Although it would do you no good. The distinctive sound of metal on metal gave away your current predicament. 

You were chained to something.  

You tried not to panic but you were unable to see anything a few inches in front of you much less see how far the chain allowed you to move. You felt something solid underneath you and concluded that it was some sort of mattress or padding. It was a small comfort while being confined in total darkness.  

Wherever you were, The Joker was to blame, and you weren’t going to let him have this much power over you. You had to find a way out before he started his sick form of entertainment.  

Every citizen of Gotham knew Joker’s M.O. You didn’t want to be tortured to death all for a laugh.  

You waited until your eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings before exploring how much freedom you truly had.  

You felt around in the darkness until your hands bumped into something solid. It was a surface with nothing that could help you escape on it, so you moved on. Minutes felt like hours as you stumbled through the dark, searching for anything useful. Just when you thought you were painting a clear picture of the room in your head, a door opened beside you.  

The blinding light was nothing compared to the searing pain of the door hitting you square in the face or that of the trauma caused by falling to the ground.  

The room was still spinning when your loudmouth got the better of you. 

“What’s your f__king problem?!” You cried out. You feared that your nose was broken, it sure felt like it with the amount of blood you felt gushing out. The Joker didn’t seem phased by the display.  

Instead, he stepped right over you and flicked on a light, blinding you in the process. “Errr let’s see... problems. MY problem.. Social injustice? Global warming…uhhh rush hour traffic?” Joker paused for dramatic effect and slowly turned to face you. You froze, feeling his emerald eyes rake over your form hungrily.  

The unnatural hue seemed to suck you in the longer you stared. “You.” Joker purred. 

“M-Me?” How were you a problem? He abducted you not the other way round! 

You had never crossed paths with the Clown Prince of Crime until tonight. The two of you couldn’t be more worlds apart. You stayed nose deep in your humanitarian work and out of any trouble whereas The Joker was trouble personified.  

The only thing that linked you to Joker was your father, yet you doubted the clown was smart enough to put all the puzzle pieces together to uncover that.  

You prayed that this was all some sort of misunderstanding but judging how The Joker was staring, your hopes began to shatter one by one.  

You instinctively shielded your body from the known threat and in doing so, your skin brushed against unknown material. The formal dress you originally wore for the evening was gone and replaced by a thin t-shirt and baggy men’s pants. The implications were not lost on you. 

You turned to glare at the madman before you. “Who changed my clothes!?” If you were able to blush, you knew you’d be redder than a tomato.  

This man obviously had no respect for women. He simply threw his head back and laughed, “The pleasure is allllllllllll mine.”  

You failed at hiding your full body shudder and even worse, you were unable to silence yourself from talking trash. “Screw you.” You regretted saying it the moment you opened your mouth.  

The room suddenly got quiet. Joker sauntered his way over to your mattress and crouched down so he could be eye level with you. He admired the fire burning within your e/c eyes for a time. Such a strong wielded fire, it was beautiful to behold. If Joker had his way, there would only be smoking embers after he had his fun. He would make sure of it.  

The Joker always had an air of drama about him, and it took center stage as he spoke to you. “Ya wanna.. know something? You should be lucK-yyyy my boys didn’t change ya. They would’ve loved to uh.. what did ya say? Screw you.” 

His choice of words held more meaning as he tried to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. You shut down that idea by chomping at his fingers the second they were within your reach.  

You refused to sit around like some damsel in destress until dad or one of the boys came to rescue you. You would fight back even if it killed you. 

To Joker, your little stunt was comical. You could rebel all you wanted; your antics would never compare to what he had in store for you.  

He simply wagged his paint-stained fingers at you like a scolding parent and insulted you further. “Mm, feisty! I like thaT. But that’s no way to behave while you’re here. No noooo. No. You are a verry special guest, Y/n!” 

Joker walked over to the table that you found earlier. You watched as he pulled out a tripod and took the time to set up a camera in your general direction. Once it was positioned to his liking, he mashed a button—and to your horror, a red light began to blink. 

“Tada! May I present.... Y/n, my lead-ing lady in this uh.. short film of mine! The title you ask? Why it’s, How to Break Batman’s Little Girl 101!”  

Joker’s words were like a sucker punch to your gut. They bounced off the thick walls of the room and echoed back in your eardrum's times a hundred. Your worst nightmare was happening right before your eyes. Not only did someone know who you were, but dad’s long kept secret was out—and his arch-nemesis of all people, knew about it.  

You were blinking a mile a minute and Joker thought your lips flailing like a fish was oh so adorable. Kissable really but he shook that odd thought away.  

He hyped up his performance so much, you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or the camera at this point.  

“Oh come now, Y/n. Don’t act so sur-prised! I knew Bats’ secret for years now. We are friends ya know.... Mmm on second thought. Ya might wanna work on the security Batsy.. I just so happened to waltz in and steal your precious.... and might I add.... beau-ti-ful daughter away easy peasy. Did I mention she’s verrrry beautiful?”  

You snapped out of your panic by Joker’s fingers grazing your cheek. Your response was instinctive by slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”  

Joker wasted no time reacting to your outburst. His gentle touch turned cruel and struck your face hard enough to turn it sideways right into the wall.  

He quickly grabbed ahold of your jaw and yanked you back upright. You were forced to bear witness to his self-inflicted scars, all jagged and swollen up close. It was a permanent reminder just how insane this man truly was. Joker’s nails dug into your cheek and for a split second, you genuinely feared this man.  

His green eyes were almost electric staring into your soul. “You’re mine now and I’ll touch ya however I want. Got thaT?”  

Joker saw the insult queuing up in your brain and squeezed your face tighter in his grasp. You whined but still managed to part your lips to respond. “I’m not yours.” You growled.  

A brief staring contest ensued. Green verses your e/c.  

Joker admired your bravery; you questioned his sanity. He dressed the part of a gentleman with his three-piece suit and coattails (despite the outlandish colors) yet he was so far removed from the title. He was unpredictable in every sense of the word that you weren’t sure if you would survive a moment longer in his presence. 

You were confident that someone would come save you, Joker thought you were too naïve to understand the gravity of your situation. In any case, he would have ample time to extinguish the fire blazing in your eyes before someone started searching for you.  

He was so caught up crafting his mental plans, he didn’t notice the glint in your eye right before you bit his hand.  

It hardly phased him and for your efforts you received a rough shove towards the ground. Thankfully the mattress softened the blow however you still had the strength to glare at The Joker in disdain. 

“Let’s see how long that feisty streak of yours last hmm?” Joker chuckled under his breath and walked over to the door.  

The sudden change in brightness blinded you again but this time you caught a glimpse of a bulky man guarding the door before he and Joker disappeared from sight. 

Finally you were alone with your thoughts. The first thing you did was let out a shaky sigh and glance at the camera still recording you. The Joker didn’t turn it off and you concluded its sole purpose was to monitor you and collect material for the ransom cd your dad would receive. 

You choked back a sob just thinking about dad. He would be beside himself knowing you were abducted. Finding out that his greatest enemy took you would be a low blow—one you hoped he would overcome in order to rescue you. Dick and Jason would steer the detective in the right direction but with every hour that passed, you knew dad would slowly lose his mind. He knew firsthand what Joker was capable of. Your nose throbbed bitterly as a harsh reminder.  

There was nothing stopping the clown from killing you if he simply became bored.  

If only you took dad’s words to heart and abided by his strict security measures. You had snuck away from your detail for a bit of privacy. Now you regretted that dumb decision. You were in Joker’s clutches with no chance of escape, and it was all your fault.  

He chained you to a bedpost like some animal and now that there was light in the room, you could see it in its entirety.  

It was a mini prison right down to the bare necessities. The Joker had every intention of keeping you here, cut off from Gotham City, most likely below ground to disrupt the bat tracker embedded in you since childhood.  

You scratched at your wrist, praying that it miraculously still worked despite the odds. Surely your father, the world’s greatest detective, could locate his daughter with much less. 

It was the only reassurance you had.  

You were getting tired overthinking your predicament. There was nothing you could do at present, so with one last hesitant glance at the video recorder, you tried your best to get comfortable on the mattress and fall asleep. 

That became your routine. Time held no value anymore.  

Was it a few days? Weeks? Longer? How were you to know? You were confined to four concrete walls with no form of contact, save for the ever present blinking red light watching your every move.  

You were forced to use the horrendous facilities they called a bathroom, and meals (which were surprisingly great) were brought to your room like clockwork while you were asleep.  

You began to look forward to the tray that would magically appear on your table. It was the only connection to the outside world you had, and you didn’t take it for granted.  

There was always a special treat on your dinner plate and it never failed at putting a smile on your face regardless of being a prisoner. You tried to keep a grip on your sanity with these small bouts of happiness, but it was obvious what angle Joker was playing at.  

He was using isolation to mentally break you and it was working. 

You thought being locked away all alone would be easy, but the constant silence was unbearable and before long you began to fear when Joker would return.  

Not fearing him specifically, but of what you might do for a sliver of human interaction.  

That visit came unexpectedly. You woke up from a nap sensing a presence inside your room. Sadly, you had embraced having hallucinations during your lengthy stay here, but this one felt a little too real.  

Something didn’t feel right. “H-Hello?”  

The door was still closed with the lights dimmed and there wasn’t a tray of food dropped by, so you glanced near the bathroom area on pure instincts. Nothing was inside the room except that camera that you loathed so much. Its constant flashing light both annoyed and comforted you. At least you weren’t completely alone.  

You sighed to yourself and was about to fall back asleep when you felt something move behind you. Joker’s laugh blended in with your scream as you tried to scramble away.  

You didn’t get far given that Joker dragged you back towards him.  

The last thing you expected after waking up was a man lying in the same bed as you. It was a natural response to freak out, especially since it was The Joker pinning you to the mattress. “YOU SICK F__K! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?”  

You didn’t see the way Joker's eyes glazed over or the way his hands tightened around you before he grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Have I lost my… have I.. losT my mind?”   

You tried to pry his hands off you, but Joker was just too strong as he continued to repeat your question over and over. His manic laughter was deafening in your ear. “Have I lost my mind, Y/n? Or have you?”  

You looked up into pools of jade that glinted mockingly down at you. “What are you...?” 

Joker cut you off by directing your gaze to the camera in the room. “Did ya forget I’ve been watching you this entire time doll? Talking to yourself, your uh... hopeless words of affirmation? Oh Dad will come, he’ll come save me! Hang in there, Y/n! You’re so braaaaaave and strong!”’ 

Joker’s imitation of your voice was cringeworthy as he repeated your own words out loud. He mocked your defiant spirit and hopes of escape as if it was a joke. Strangely enough, Joker’s tone softened, and he sounded sincere with his next angle of attack.  

“You just don’t get iT. Daddy’s not coming Y/n. No one knows you’re missing, and nooo one cares either. It’s been a month now doll. If Daddy Bats really cared about his precious daughter, he would’ve rescued you by now don’tcha think?” 

Joker was just messing with you. This was another tactic of his to break you down. He was a master of manipulation and his way with words was just as dangerous as his work with knives. His sole existence was to harm others and yet with your fragile state of mind, a part of you believed him.  

You couldn’t believe that a month had passed with no one trying to find you. Was Joker telling the truth?  

It was too absurd to believe. “N-No....  no dad cares about me. He wouldn't.... he wouldn’t give up..” You whispered. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince here, you or The Joker.  

He must’ve seen the doubt starting to creep in for he pushed you a little further. “Are you sure, Y/n? He’s a uh, busy bat! Fighting crime always comes first, you know that better than anyyyyy one. He’s never had time for you...” Joker smiled, watching you blink back tears.  

He enjoyed every minute of tearing down your defenses one lie at a time.  

He leaned away and bit back a smile when you followed, seeking his contact. You were making this child’s play for him.  

“Bats always sent ya away when you were younger. Never letting you err.. blossom to your fullest. He hid you away because you were a failure to him. A mistake. He never cared about you! But guess whaT?”  

Joker waited until you looked up into his grassy green eyes. Were they always so expressive or was it your imagination that made them sparkle? It was the first source of human contact you had in who knows how long. You felt special to have The Joker staring at you the way he was.  

The air in the room was filled with static energy as you waited for Joker’s next words. You craved validation, acceptance, and attention at a time like this. The Joker had starved you for far too long in isolation.  

His hand raised up and softly caressed the side of your face and you missed how his eyes lingered on your lips longer than intended.  

“I care Y/n.” He chuckled seeing you pout, “I mean iT! I’ve been so ah.. cruel to ya. I should’ve treated you better. You want me to treat ya better doll?” 

Joker leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. The contact made you jump and blink up at him in shock. If he couldn’t hear your heart beating wildly, then he was deaf.  

You soaked up his form of human contact like a sponge. How long had you been wasting away in this room?  

Was it really a month like Joker had said? Right as Joker was leaning down to kiss you properly, you had a moment of clarity.  

Who was to blame for you being trapped in here? Why were you here in the first place? The answer was right in front of you, buttering you up with sweet lies and fake affection. Joker was playing you like a fiddle, and you were weak enough to fall for it.  

Not anymore.  

The Joker was the enemy. He was full of lies. Dad would never abandon you so why were so inclined to believe this green haired clown? No amount of isolation, no form of torture, could break you to believe such. You couldn’t give up so easily. You were a Wayne. You were born a fighter.  

Joker’s scarred lips ghosted against yours as you shoved him away. “You are nothing but a liar.”  

You enjoyed his brief moment of shock before his eyes cooled into the hard emeralds that they were. 

And just like that the act was over. One second you were in the comfort of Joker’s arms, the next you were tossed aside like trash and his true colors were revealed.  

He towered over you like a titan as you tried to back away but there was simply nowhere to go. You were at Joker’s mercy, and he spared you none. Each kick to your body made you cry out for Joker to stop but he didn’t listen, rather he laughed and kicked harder.  

You grabbed his ankle and begged him to stop but he jerked free and stomped on your wrist in retaliation. The audible crack was background noise to your earsplitting scream— yet it was all music to Joker’s ears.  

He enjoyed the pain of others and yours was icing on the cake.  

You sounded so pretty, so helpless and filled with anguish. He wanted to hear more. He was obsessed. How far could he push you until you gave under pressure? 

Two knocks on the door stole Joker’s attention and his eyes watched as another person entered the room. Joker knew who it was. Anyone else wouldn’t dare enter while he had his fun.  

Frost took one look at you sobbing on the floor before he focused his attention back on his boss. “We got trouble.”  

Joker rolled his eyes at Frost for interrupting his fun although it was probably for the best. He didn’t want to break you just yet. Slow and steady won the race and he had all he time in the world to do so.  

He might’ve went overboard today judging by how you visibly flinched when he moved in your direction, but he knew you’d bounce back defiant as ever. You had to.   

“You’ll have to uhh, excuse me Y/n. It seems.. I’m needed elsewhere. Don’t. You. Move.” He patted your head and laughed all the way out the door.  

The heavy sound of it closing did little to silence your tears.  

The pain was nothing. You were more upset with yourself for not being stronger. Joker was destroying your fighting spirit in record time and you were powerless to stop him.  

The bruises never faded, and it made sleeping even more difficult on your worn mattress.  

Sure, Joker was considerate enough to cast your broken wrist, but it was a small gesture compared to the verbal and added physical abuse he bestowed upon you daily.  

You became Joker’s personal punching bag and there was no end in sight to your suffering.  

Each time the door opened, you were forced to endure Joker’s twisted mind games or his heavy hand. It didn’t matter that you were a woman, in his eyes you deserved every ounce of pain that he inflicted. And when he finally left you bleeding and holding back tears, your own thoughts tortured you some more. 

Did father really abandon you? How was the world’s greatest detective, renowned for his state-of-the-art technology and gadgets, unable to locate his only daughter?  

The days blended together and all the hope you originally had of being rescued, diminished.  

The Joker enjoyed his daily visits with you but he could tell that it wasn’t enough. Your body was obviously battered yet your mind remained intact.  

You still possessed a thread of hope that made you defiant to the end. You spat in Joker's face whenever he was in range, and you rolled your eyes at his half-hearted jokes about killing you.  

“Then do it.” Your snide remarks often led to more beatings that did little to fulfill Joker’s goal.  

Nothing seemed to be working to ultimately break you, so he decided to try a different angle. 

You woke up to the smell of food in the air. Your stomach growled in want, but the reset of your body hurt too much to move. You debated skipping eating all together in favor of rest however that choice was made for you.  

“Sit up.” 

His voice. The root of all of your problems. You didn’t have the strength to be bothered with him today.  

Joker waited for you to move yet when you remained lying down, he became agitated. “I won’T re-peat myself doll.” 

Your voice cracked with your response. “I can’t. It hurts.” You just wanted to be left alone, to hurt in peace but Joker controlled everything here. As if you had a choice to begin with. 

“Lemme help you.” 

Just hearing the offer gave you the strength to flip over to face him. Surely he was joking. He wanted to help you?! After all he did? Screw the consequences, you had to speak your mind. 

“Help me? You want to help me? Okay then. Go away! Far… far away and leave me alone! Or even better! Let me go!  What’s the point of keeping me here? What do you want from me?!”  

During your speech you began to cry and Joker (for the first time in his life) felt guilty. Your timeless beauty was marred by cuts and bruises that he caused, and he couldn’t justify his actions for creating them.  

Somewhere along the way Joker lost focus of the mission.  

It was all a game— to get at Batman but along the way Joker saw how strong you truly were. Anything he tossed your way, you deflected it with ease. You never faltered, never lost hope. Even now as you lay weak and hungry, your eyes set him ablaze.  

You had won, he just didn’t know at what.  

Joker didn’t know what else to do with this failed experiment of his. One thing was certain, he wasn’t letting you go. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on.  

Your rant fizzled off as you stared at Joker.  

There was an odd gleam in his eyes that you were wary of. He looked lost in thought and when he snapped to, you were shocked to see a genuine smile appear on his lips.  

You feared what his thoughts could lead to.  

To mask your fear, you rolled your eyes at his lack of an answer and reached for your dinner tray. Your groan of pain made Joker wince. Were you really in that much pain?  

Without thinking, he smacked your hand away and stabbed a portion of food with the provided fork. The two of you stared at each other in silence waiting for the other to make a move.  

“I can feed myself.” You grumbled.  

Joker gave you an, ‘are you sure about that’ look and tapped the fork to your lips.  

Just thinking about moving used up too much energy and your muscles begged for you to take him up on the offer. The Joker, Gotham City’s notorious criminal, wanted to feed you dinner; who were you to deny him?  

You begrudgingly opened your mouth while looking away from his smug green eyes.  

The act was so demoralizing, but you kept your cool while chewing in silence and opening your mouth for the next morsel.  

Just to be cheeky, you closed your lips around the fork and refused to let go. Joker didn’t think it was funny but he entertained your bratty behavior nonetheless. He considered stabbing your tongue—but thought against it. There was no need to be violent.  

He was trying a different angle to this whole hostage situation he created. Your defenses were down tonight and he would be a fool not to take advantage of them.  

A quick glance to his right confirmed that the video camera was still recording. Perhaps it was time to send a message to daddy dearest and make some progress.  

You were under the impression that Joker was taking pity on you with his nice guy act. He was patient, feeding you bites of food and not shoving it down your throat like he’d done in the past when you tried starving yourself.  

He was being.. (dare you say it) nice. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.  

He finished feeding you and you thought he was moving onto the slice of cake that was on the tray. You had been eyeing it since Joker uncovered it and you licked your lips thinking about the delectable treat.  

It would have to wait. There was an ominous shift in the air that completely blindsided you.  

Joker didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t have any plans when he entered your room tonight. It was supposed to be a simple food drop—nothing more, but the moment his eyes landed on you curled up on the mattress resting so beautifully, what left of his demented mind, checked out early.  

This past month and a half was filled with harsh lessons and far too many close calls. Batman and his ban of birds did everything in their power to find you and they almost succeeded once or twice. 

Thankfully Joker was smart enough to place you inside a shipping container so you could always be mobile and out of reach. You hardly noticed the frequent moves since he coordinated them during your sleeping hours. It also ensured your meals were always hot and fresh since they could just travel to wherever Joker deemed fit to your standards.  

Everything was planned down to the smallest detail, everything except developing feelings for you.  

Now that was out of Joker’s control.  

Underneath the clown façade, Joker was still a man and you were absolutely stunning with your aristocratic beauty and educated mind.  

Your fierce personality drew him in despite you being a means to an end. You were supposed to be a form of entertainment, a toy until Joker got bored and let Batman have his daughter back but over time, Joker became attached to you in an unhealthy way. 

You were Joker’s property, his special secret hidden from the world to do with as he so pleased.  

He stopped hitting you and allowed you time to heal due to some unknown form of guilt. More and more tasty desserts were included with your meals to make up for his abusive behavior, and unbeknownst to you, Joker watched you sleep every night.  

There was something soothing watching you blissfully unaware of the monster in your bed. He could slit your throat in your sleep but he didn’t. No, that would be a waste.  

Joker found it better to sleep beside you and hold you close. He knew you would freak out if you knew all the liberties that he took while you were asleep.  

From tracing your major arteries with a knife to leaving lipstick marks all over your skin—his feelings for you were disturbing and perfectly justified in his opinion.  

Joker didn’t want the traditional lovey dovey crap most couples shared because he wasn’t normal. He wanted to own, to control, to destroy you completely and then protect the broken pieces that remained. 

There was no concept of love in Joker’s mind and there never would be. Seeing you so docile as he fed you was the breaking point. He got a taste of your submissive side and craved more.  

Why couldn’t you just give in and break already? You brought this upon yourself. You forced Joker to do this. 

He blocked out the sound of your cries and wrestled your arms down to onto the mattress. His only goal was to get you naked and when you began to struggle more, he took matters into his own hands. 

Joker grabbed the army knife from his pocket and sliced your clothes off. One motion caught your skin and you howled as the sharp metal tore it open. Joker saw red bubble to the surface and dove down to lick you clean.  

He didn’t like hearing your voice filled with pain. It distracted him from getting hard and after staring you in the eye, you quickly got the message. Keep quiet or else.  

You tried not to make a sound louder than your whimpers. You didn’t want to provoke Joker’s wrath.  

“Much better. So pretty.” Joker hummed to himself when you were laid bare beneath him although he frowned seeing tears staining your cheeks. “Shhhhhh, hey hey. Look at me... Behave and it won’t hurT.”  

He watched your lip wobble as you remained quiet. Your wrists were being held down by Joker’s hand, leaving you powerless to squirm away and he loved the power scale tipping in his favor. Good. You would always be beneath him.  

He struggled a bit to unzip his fly but managed to get his cock out without letting you go. A shame you were being bratty and didn’t prepare yourself for this. He really had to do everything around here.  

Joker spat on his hand and worked it up and down his cock, groaning to himself at the feeling. His eyes roamed over his doll and admired your beauty mid stoke. You had curves in all the right places that begged to be fondled. He wanted to touch them, but if he let go of your hands, you would act out.  

He could see the fire burning in your eyes. If he gave you an inch, you’d take a mile.  

Yet it was criminal not to mark you up the way he wanted.  

Joker sighed as he lined himself up with your pussy. You panicked and tried moving away from his tip tapping your opening with heavy slaps to no avail.  

“Are ya gonna behave doll?” 

He shifted his weight and applied more pressure on your healing broken wrist when you continued to rebel. The searing pain made you bite your lip and cease struggling altogether.  

“Now. Are you gonna be a errr.. good doll for me n’ stay realllllllly still?” Joker sang.  

Your lip curled back, ready to cuss him out, instead a loud scream took escaped your lips as Joker began to force his way inside your dry entrance.  

It burned. It ached. He was tearing you apart and you shook your head in agony as it continued without end. You didn’t think about the consequences, you bucked your hips away from the unwanted invasion.  

You knew you were in trouble the moment Joker said your name in warning. 

“What. Did. I just say doll? Dumb b___h.” 

Joker let go of your wrists to hold your hips instead. Once he found purchase, he began thrusting in and out of your pussy. His pleasure was your torment. Your silent tears spurred him on and he swatted your hands away that tried to push him off.  

Nothing would stop him after he got a taste of you. He was an idiot for not taking you sooner. 

“Haha, you’re grippin’ me soooooo tight doll. Ease up for me!” Joker groaned louder to drown out your pathetic pleas. He would not slow down; you were too perfect to stop now.  

He noticed the camera in the corner and got an idea. “Are ya enjoying yourself, doll? Why don’tcha give the ah.. a-audience a good show? Go on. Tell him how you feel.”   

You forgot all about the recorder in the room! Your sharp gasp was music to his ears. You tried to turn away, but Joker would have none of that. He grabbed your jaw and forcibly turned your face towards the lens. Your tears were a paid actor for his production.  

“Ya see that Bats? ThaT, oh f__k... t-that is the face of your failure. She’s all mine and I’m gonna take ahaha.. verrry good care of her. All mine.. d__n it..” Joker choked back a moan and licked the tears from your face as he sped up his thrusts. If he kept this up, he would cum before the fun really started. Although he shouldn’t have to be the only one getting off.  

With a smug grin, he snaked a hand down to rub messy circles on your clit.  

The response was instantaneous. You threw your head back with a mewl on your tongue. He felt the result of his adventurous touch the same time you let out an unexpected moan. “Oh? Ya like that doll?” He mocked.  

He laughed at you trying to deny deny deny but your body was speaking on your behalf.  

You tightened around him and he felt the slick begin to coat his cock. He arched an eyebrow at the sudden turn of events. You really were enjoying this. He wondered... 

He stroked your clit faster and was rewarded by another sweet moan gracing his ears. His doll made the prettiest sounds under distress. He could see the confusion dancing across your features.  

“Ohhhhhh Bats! You have a naughty.. naughty girl! Enjoying my touch after begging me to stop just minutes ago? Ah.. mmm, it's okay doll! M-Moan louder. Enjoy ittt, I know I am. Mm, you feel better the uh wetter you become.” 

Joker stopped mid thrust when you clenched down unexpectedly on him. Were you trying to crush him to death?  

He wondered if you could feel him throbbing in your pussy. Your tiny fists were beating on his clothed chest but there was no point in pretending.  

You were enjoying yourself and if he was correct to assume, you were getting close. You just needed a little push and Joker had just the thing.  

“I knew you were secretly a whore. Only dirty sluts get off on being used like a toy. Hehe. It's a-always the quiet ones f__k!” Joker chuckled to himself followed by a shuddering groan. You were very close. He had to act fast.  

Without warning he bit down hard on your shoulder. You moaned out before covering your mouth with your hand. It was too late; Joker already knew what kind of woman you were. He bit harder and rejoiced as blood bubbled up to the surface to coat his lips. Finally, he was marking you up the way you deserved.  

He sped up his thrusts, laughing at the sloppy sound of wet skin on skin in the room. His cock happily slid in and out of your pussy now that you were horny.  

You were shaking your head in denial even as your legs shivered on Joker’s shoulders. He licked the fresh bite mark clean before whispering in your ear.  

“Let go Y/n. Shatter into a thousand tiny lit-tle pieces— and when you snap them back together, I'll be righT here to ruin you all over again. And again. And again. I will always break you just the way you need. The way you deserve. So go on. Do itttt. B-Break for me.... For us.”  

Joker thought you were beautiful before, seeing you admit defeat and cum was a vision from heaven.  

Your cheeks darkened in color as your lips parted like the sea to allow carnal bliss to fall from its depths. You twitched uncontrollably in Joker’s hold, and he was more than happy to pull you in close as you fell apart on his cock.  

You rode the wave of pleasure and swept Joker along with the force. He was caught off guard by your tightening cunt and came with your name a whisper on his lips.  

No drug could ever compare to the high you gave him.  

He saw new sounds and heard colors that he couldn’t name. His breath came in short pants as he came down. Words failed him, his head was still too foggy to process the world around him.  

What could one say after an orgasm that intense? He just came inside your quivering hole, and he already wanted to do it again.   

He couldn’t find the energy to even think coherently! All he could do was flop down next to you and sort out his senses in the right categories.  

His paint-stained hands wandered aimlessly and began playing with the ends of your hair, much to your horror. While Joker floated in post-coital bliss, you fell back to your harsh reality.  

You let this monster have sex with you and even worse, you enjoyed it.  

You felt dirty, cheap, a literal failure. You allowed The Joker to touch you, to make you feel good. You came from his ministrations. God, you could feel him softening inside your used pussy. Your inner thighs felt sticky, and you shuddered realizing that The Joker came inside you. The room began to spin as you spiraled into a panic attack.  

What would dad think when he found out? What if you became pregnant with this monster’s child. You felt sick to your stomach and feeling Joker playing with your hair, as if nothing was wrong, tipped you over the edge.  

“Don’t touch me!” You wailed. Your shout made Joker come to and instinctively hold you closer to his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on inside your head, but you didn’t have to be so loud. 

“Doll... I ahh uh, already touched ya.” He rubbed up and down your back despite you flinching from his touch.  

You made eye contact with the video recorder in the corner and Joker curiously followed your gaze. Oh. That would explain your sour mood. You were smart and deduced what he would do with the footage. “Listen Y/n..” 

A knock at the door interrupted Joker’s sentence. He didn’t move an inch as he granted whomever on the other side entry.  

You tried maintaining your modesty but it was a useless effort. You were bare as the day you were born in Joker’s arms and he wasn’t letting you go. 

Joker’s henchman walked in and struck a conversation with the clown, pretended as if you didn’t exist. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die you were so embarrassed.  

You didn’t notice what was going on until Joker snapped his fingers in your face. “Huh?” 

Joker rolled his eyes at your lack of awareness. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I said..... take a bath while I’m gone. I uh.. took your chain off for ya.”  

He pointed at your bare ankle that was in fact free of the heavy metal. You twisted your leg, feeling the freedom granted to you.  

You wanted to thank Joker but he was already walking out the door with his henchman. And just like that, you were alone. The silence was unbearable as the full reality hit you full force.  

You didn’t fight back. Why did you give in so easily? Why did you miss the warmth of Joker body against yours? Just what was wrong with you for craving his touch?  

Screw taking a bath, you ran straight towards the toilet to empty your stomach.  

Sleep did not come to you when your mind was abuzz with doubt. 

You paced the room while biting your nails and reliving your time spent with Joker over and over. You were beyond restless thinking about your uncertain future. What would Joker do now that he got what he wanted? 

Would you be killed off and discarded like trash? Would your family be given the chance to mourn your passing? Would they even know what became of you? There were too many questions and not enough answers. One thing was for certain, you refused to sit around and wait for your fate.  

For some unknown reason Joker removed your chain. It was a sliver of hope that you planned on exploiting.  

The heavy metal door loomed in the distance. Before it served as a reminder of how trapped you were; now it was a shining beacon of hope. Either coincidental or simply a miracle, Joker also took the elusive camera with him. Nothing was stopping you from running, and nothing was holding you back.  

Joker had slashed your clothes to ribbons but the woolen blanket on the mattress was still intact for you to wrap around your body.  

It left you feeling far too exposed, but you had no other option available. Once covered, you padded over to the door and turned the handle to freedom. 

The hallway was dark and ominous before you.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to venture into the unknown. You looked at the barren cell you were forced to inhabit and back into the dark void, weighing the odds.  

You took the first step, then another, and another until you were walking with haste—desperately searching for an exit.  

Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as you stumbled across a door with light poking out underneath the frame. It was the only lead you had so far towards an exit. You slowly pushed it open and regretted it instantly.  

The room full of men all stopped their various conversations to stare you caught like a deer in headlights in the doorway. You quite literally walked into a den of wolves.  

“Well well. Look what we have here!” One guy catcalled.  

They all leered at your body poorly wrapped up in a blanket. It was obvious your purpose here at their hideout. Free entertainment.  

The door slammed shut behind you, trapping you again, only this time in far more hostile conditions. You berated yourself for leaving the safety of your cell if this was the cost. You could barely defend yourself against Joker. There were too many men here to even consider escaping.  

You backtracked right into a broad chest and the male laughed at you already cowering in fear.  

He roughly pulled your hair while another pair of hands ripped your blanket away to knead your breasts. Whistles and laughter broke out in the room at the sight. “The Boss been keepin’ this from us!? Look! She’s freshly used too!”  

You screamed as fingers stabbed their way into your cunt and explored inside. Their hands weren't like Jokers. There was no pleasure to be gained here and unlike before, your body did not warm up to the stimuli.  

You were in pain as they groped and fondled your body and despite Joker being the origin to all your problems, you cried out his name to save you. 

Someone yanked your hair again before shattering all your hopes with a handful of words. “Ya think the boss is gonna help you? You are nuthin’ to him! Just a warm hole for him to use. And now it's our turn.” 

You closed your eyes to block out the pain. The last of your fighting spirit faded away as a lone tear rolled down your cheek. 

Frost and Joker were waking back towards your room when they heard the loud commotion coming from the common room.  

It was well in the night and nothing of note should’ve excited the men to be so rowdy. Most of them should’ve been on patrols in the first place.  

Frost merely shrugged his shoulders and followed his Boss.  

Curiosity killed the cat, but Joker was not so simple minded. He knew something was wrong. He wasn't religious by any means, but he prayed that this didn’t involve you.  

He barged into the common room ready to scold his men when his worst fears came to light.  

Joker didn’t think, he simply acted until nothing else stood in his way to get to you. Frost could handle the aftermath of his rage—you were the only constant in Joker’s mind the second he opened the door and saw you in distress.  

He left you just a few hours prior, safe and accounted for in your room. He left to prepare better accommodations to reflect your newfound status in his life. Joker took great care of his possessions, and you deserved better than being tucked away in some dingy shipping container. You didn’t belong on the floor like a cheap whore. No, you were worthy to be displayed, dressed up like the doll Joker wanted you to be. 

 Never did he imagine he would return to this. 

He fought his way to your side and fell to his knees by your side. His green eyes were wide with an unknown emotion as they took in your battered form.  

He didn’t want to touch and accidentally hurt you any further yet something about the thousand-yard stare in your eyes told him you were no longer here to feel anything at all. Joker knew how ruthless his men were, but this was barbaric.  

He didn’t regret killing them after what they done. His only remorse was not making them suffer more before death.  

Joker gathered you up in his arms and tried shaking you back into focus. “Y/n? Y/n, c'mon doll! Look at me.. s-say something!?” He pleaded.  

You mumbled something inaudible and curled up into a ball.  

Rage. Guilt and surprisingly shame. Joker’s mind was wild with this flood of new emotions.  

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a single cell of compassion in his body, yet the sight of his newest toy utterly broken (and not of his own doing) had him feeling remorseful.  

“I... I don’T.. I...” Joker gathered his thoughts with a deep inhale.  

Frost watched the intimate scene while kicking over a body. It was a bloody mess in here; however, that had to wait.  

Frost could tell his Boss needed some assistance. “I’ll run a bath.” Frost said offhandedly.  

It would point Joker in the right direction at least rather than rocking you back and forth on the floor to no avail. The comment snapped Joker out of his musing.  

Emerald eyes roamed over your sleeping form. “Bath. Y-Yeah uh she needs a uh.. bath.” 

He nodded to himself and slowly rose to his feet to carry you out of the common room. He passed up your old room in favor of his own that had more privacy. Not like it would matter. You had yet to speak.  

This was not the outcome Joker had planned. Even after he washed you clean and tucked you into bed— he sat by your side contemplating his next move.  

You were no longer the shiny doll he wanted on his shelf. His own men had ruined you. They took away your feisty demeanor and all conscience thought from you that made this game fun.  

Joker tried to get you to speak, to react to anything, but you remained stagnant, blinking owlishly at the wall until sleep finally took you.  Nothing of the defiant Y/n that Joker had grown to like remained.  

You left him with no other alternative. He got what he wanted, and it was time to move on.  

In three more days, it would mark your two-month long disappearance. Bruce would be a liar if he said he didn’t count the days if not the minutes that you were gone.  

He blamed himself for your capture and the boys tried their hardest to steer him in the right direction and not spiral into depression. Bruce loved all his children, but you were his by blood. You held a special place in Bruce’s heart and as such, he spent every waking second trying to find you. 

No expenses were spared, and any lead (no matter how small) were investigated. Joker was smart, but Bruce was smarter. He would find you.  

Dick and Tim investigated a possible lead and discovered where you were originally being held. You still had a sweet tooth and your favorite bakery recognized your custom order being placed and tipped off Wayne Enterprises about the person who picked it up. 

Unfortunately, The Joker moved you before Batman could arrive at the location but now they knew you were still alive. It strengthened their hopes in finding you safe and sound.  

Numerous rescue attempts were thwarted in the following weeks, but they never gave up. There would be another lead, they would have another chance to save you.  

All hope was not lost. 

Their patience was rewarded the day the Batcomputer picked up a signal on your tracker. It was finally online for the first time in months. Everyone scrambled to assemble at the pinned location. Bruce was ready for a fight and mentally prepared himself to do anything necessary to get you back.  

None of the boys were prepared to arrive at the back of your office building. It seemed to be a mistake, it had to be. Was Joker sending them on a wild goose chase? Bruce scanned the area but there was only one faint heat signature detected. His nerves were on edge, already assuming the worst.  

Bruce’s heart stopped beating when he saw a body lying in the delivery drop-off/ loading area. He didn’t wait for the others to secure the area. His father instincts were in overdrive as he rushed to your side, calling out your name.  

You were unresponsive with only a tattered blanket covering your shivering form. That’s when Bruce saw the bruises painting your body and the cast still present on your wrist. He didn’t want to believe that this battered woman was his spit-fire daughter.  

You were a shell of your former self when Bruce finally roused you awake. The fire that once blazed intently within your e/c eyes was gone and it was evident what The Joker did to you.  

“Bruce, look.” Dick said as he picked up something near your feet.  

Scattered around your body was a deck of playing cards. On the joker card a note was written in red.  

You can have her back Bats; I don’t like broken dolls. 

[wafywaify]

continuing the shen yuan street singer au because it's been eating my brain ever since I posted the first part. part 1 incase u missed it!

--

Okay, this could've gone a whole lot worse!! But he has some leeway here!! Look.. as long as he just keeps singing.. he cant come up to him..? Its rude to ruin a performance, everyone knows that! Surely if he just.. goes on for a few more songs the protagonist will get bored and leave!! Nobody cares that much. ..right?

Finishing off his fifth song, Written in your heart, by of course, barbie princess and the pauper, he huffs a few breaths before opening his eyes. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. He looks up to see.. Binghe.. still staring at him. Unmoving. At this point, hes unable to stop the small scowl from forming on his face. And its clear Binghe catches it, with the way he perks up an eyebrow. Why is he even still here!? He can't be that upset, can he?

A shiver runs down his spine at the imagining of.. whatever binghe wants with him. Probably some type of scathing revenge for blowing him off so easily. He looks around the crowd, just now noticing almost more than half had already left! There were really only a few stragglers and.. him. The tip jar he set on a stool was almost full.

Apparently, he'd paused for a bit too long.. the rest of his crowd were leaving!! Wait, no!! Don't leave me here with the emporer!! Oh gods, he's totally dead. Goodbye cruel world! It was fun while it lasted..

With an admittedly rushed pace, he begins packing up his things and dumping his jar of coins into his satchel before throwing it over his shoulder. With a swish, he turns back around, ready to all but sprint to the exit if he has to, before hes fully stopped with a hand to his shoulder. A very strong, very big.. very.. very handy hand. A hand that most definitely will... tear off limbs. He can feel his entire body stiffen and he winces, bracing himself before looking up.

"Yes, my lord...?"

Thank the gods his voice didn't falter! If it had he might as well have buried himself before binghe had the chance to.

It seems like time had stopped then. Binghes eyes roamed over his face for a few before smiling. A chill runs down his spine.

"You have an interesting voice."

...what?

"Ah- uh.. thank you, my lord.." He mutters out before he can stop himself. This wasn't at all what he had thought would happen. Perhaps he's just trying to get a good read on him? To see if he's even worth his time????

Binghe just hums before.. turning around and leaving? Just like that? So.. was he really not here for him, then? Did he really just want entertainment..? At a bar..? He stays still in place, watching the taller man walk towards the exit. He stops, placing a hand on the door before looking back.

"Next time, don't ignore this lord." He huffs out, voice somehow teasing yet still.. threatening. A clear undertone there. "I won't be as lenient."

Ah, there it is. He is totally fucked.

--

oki thats all for now!!! I rlly hope yall like this au as much as I do loll. I'm definitely going to continue this and post little snippets about it here and there!! If/when I start actually writing it as a fanfic, should I post chapters as I go or just wait till its fully finished to post??

[blublublujk]

i just fucked your girl (and she loved it)

oneshot

word count: 11k

genre: established relationship (reader x namjoon), dark/morally gray characters and decisions

pairings: ghost hoseok x y/n and y/n x fiancé namjoon

summary:

A very lonely, horny ghost comes to haunt your dreams (and fulfills your every sexual desire).

warnings: oh my god get ready this is gonna get long. swearing, cheating?? (is it really cheating if he's dead? i'll let you decide), explicit sexual content; sexual "nightmares", unprotected vaginal sex AND anal (ITS TIME :D), rough sex, sub/dom dynamics, no safe word, submission, dirty talk, hoseok refers to people he comes across as victims (he doesn't force anyone i promise, not unless they want to ofc), masturbation, fingering, petplay? (the reader likes being called kitten), slight hand kink, slut shaming (oopsies), use of spit (oops again), use of lube, hickeys, lots of begging, hoseok's a bit mean but the ending will make it up a bit ISTG, namjoon's an innocent sweetheart, reader feels a lot of guilt, ass play (YAY), rimming (YAY pt2), mentions to gay sex and clown kink (you'll see), hoseok's like a ghost sex worker and the reader sorta manifests him, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, come shot, blowjob, hair pulling, daddy kink, breast play, creampie, a bit of a sad/angsty ending, so sorry if anything is missing I RLLY TRIED

btw there's sex scenes between namjoon and the reader AND hoseok and the reader so they both get their share.

a.n: happy fucking halloween. sorry this got a little sad towards the end, but i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i think i'll live in this world for a while. i'm so obsessed with this probably, my favorite work yet. i think this is my smuttiest work too? idk. i was gonna delete like half of it because i hate myself sometimes but i figured you guys would enjoy something a little longer so i typed and typed until my lil heart desired and this beast was created. btw i finished this at exactly 6:13pm. i thought i'd let yall know, if anyone's as crazy as me :D im so curious what you guys think about this one so feel free to comment (only if you want too ofc ^.^) idk when i'll be back with something new but please be patient with me. i promise im not leaving lol i just get busy. OKIE THIS IS SO LONG SORRY AND ENJOY. byeee <3

p.s. i do plan to write an epilogue cuz this got crazy at the end. so much left unsaid. my brain is sooo... lol

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

--

It was the same damn nightmare. 

For the past three weeks you had been waking up in coldsweat, heart nearly beating out of your chest, breathing so out of control. You could barely hold yourself up.

And still somehow, you woke up drenching your panties of your own slick arousal.

It was the same nightmare from yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. You would end up in a dark, ominous apartment. It was yours, but somehow different. The apartment was pitch black, flashing red lights from time-to-time, as if someone in the building had pulled the emergency alarm. You would crumble in your bed, closing your eyes and praying it would end soon. That’s when he would appear. 

A man in all black, long dark tousled hair. His teeth were bright, you could tell by the smile on his face while he watched you wither away in your sheets. The glow in his dull, sharp eyes would shine even in the dark. 

He watched as you squirmed in your bed, feeling heavy, unable to stand by your own strength.

“Don’t force it, darling. Take what you need.” The stranger would say with a strong raspy tone, smelling your arousal fall into the sheets below your bottom. You were always bare in your nightmares as if you were waiting and submitting for him.

You couldn’t resist the feeling. At his call, your fingers would come to relieve the ache between your thighs. Playing with yourself as if you were alone, but it was far from the truth. He would watch as you pumped yourself two fingers deep, sighing and whimpering, satisfied that you no longer felt empty. 

Sometimes, well no most times, he would join you in your nightmares. He would tear your hands from your leaking cunt sparing mercy and you would complain against your sheets. The stranger wasn’t that bad, not for long at least, because he would fill you with his own two fingers, his eyes would dilate watching you fall apart. He was smooth and precise, he would curve his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on target, loving the sinful sounds you made as you arched your back and yelled moans without holding back. 

Once he was satisfied and right as you were about to explode, he would pull away, whipping his hard, swollen cock out of his pants and tugs on himself, forcing you to watch as he pleased himself . Of course you wanted it, but this was so wrong, very wrong. 

The worst part is he wouldn’t just give it to you, he would make you beg for it. “Talk to me baby, you want it?”

You would shake your head, denying him and trying to pull yourself from under him, but realistically it is all you wanted. You wanted to taste the beads that fell from the slit of his hard cock. He was fucking big and that itself made you go fucking insane, his hands wrapped around his length nicely. You tried to stop your thoughts from going any further, but your imagination was a powerful thing, thinking about how his pretty hands would feel wrapped around your throat instead of his dick. 

“Oh, you don’t? Maybe I’ll just leave you like this then.” He would say and it fucked with your head. 

That was the last thing you wanted. “But– m’ so empty.”

“Then beg for it slut, you don’t have to be empty and lonely for long.” His tongue was smooth and wet against your skin as he licked down your throat, sucking little marks onto your skin. He had you wrapped around his fucking fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You wanted to move but at the same time, you wanted him to have his way with you. God can forgive you for this later. 

“I c-can’t.” 

“What a shame. I’ll just take care of myself and leave you here to watch.” He would start pumping his cock faster, tugging at the crown of his length. 

You made an agonizing sound of complaint. “Please.”

“Please what little kitten?” 

He was mean. So mean. 

And you were fucking stupid. 

“Please, f-fuck me.” You begged so sweetly.

The man would smile sinisterly before shoving himself deep inside you, forcing a scream of pleasure. He was not gentle in any way and you fucking liked that. As sick as it was.

He fucked you like his only mission was to make you come and drive you insane, pushing your legs far apart and brutally fucking deep into your walls.

He would watch you fall into your sheets, murmuring noncoherent words, completely submitting to the stranger you fell apart in his complete mercy. 

What an honor. 

“That's it baby. Squirt all over my dick.” His voice was always deep and you swore you could hear a smirk between his words. 

Like magic his words would rip intense orgasms out of you and he would fuck you through them all until you eventually collapsed unconscious.

You wake up in a gasp, the wet feeling between your legs nearly makes you gag. 

This can’t be. Not again.

“Baby, wake up.” A voice calls gently, soft hands soothe your back, patting and rubbing gently. “It’s just a nightmare, love. I’m here.”

“Joonie?”

“Yes baby. I’m here, go back to bed. I’ve got you.” His calm voice manages to settle the beating drum of your heart and still, this is the exact problem with these recurring nightmares. 

Even as your fiancé rubs circles into your back, all you can think of is the hands of that strange man that would fuck you into a delrious state. You hated it. It felt too close to cheating. 

If only Namjoon saw what your nightmares truly consisted of, he would be horrified and disgusted. Every night was worse, the guilt slowly started building in the pit of your stomach as you would daydream about the nightmare over and over and over. 

…

“You okay baby?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, aware that your mind was somewhere else during dinner.

“I- yes.” But you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Flashbacks of the man in your nightmares would haunt your thoughts. These nightmares would play in your head like old memories.

His hooded eyes watching as you fucked yourself open. He would whisper things like, ‘that’s it kitten, so fucking wet all for me’ and ‘good kitten, nice and tight for me’. 

“Imagine what your fiancé would do if he saw the way you squirm in my hands. He could never fuck you the way I could, kitten. Isn't that right? Only I fuck you exactly the way you like it. My little submissive kitten.” 

“Please.” Begging is all you could muster to do in your dreams. You felt pathetic. You never wanted someone so bad. The guilt only grew stronger when you realized you were fucking addicted to your own dreams. You started chasing these nightmares. 

What was wrong with you? 

“Baby?” Namjoon called your attention once again, smiling apologetically. “You feeling okay? Your face is quite flushed.”

Your hands fall onto your face feeling the slight burn against your palms. “Sorry. I’m okay, just a little hot in here is all.” 

“It’s the end of October baby. It’s been really cold out. I’m surprised you aren't begging me to warm you up by now.” He tries to carry the conversation into a lighter, more casual matter. 

A nervous smile breaks out onto your lips, as you brush a piece of hair out of your face. “Must just be experiencing hot flashes. It happens when I’m a bit more stressed than usual.”

“Anything you wanna talk about? You know you can talk to me.” He’s sweet and present for you as usual. You feel your heart drop thkining about how this is what you are missing out on by feeding into those stupid fucking nightmares. Something had to change. 

Wake up, Y/N. 

“Yeah, I know babe. It’s nothing to worry about. Just work stuff.” You make an excuse for yourself and it seems to work, for now. 

“Mm, okay. Don’t be afraid to come to me for anything. I don’t want you suffering alone.” Your fiancé places a hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” This time you give him a real smile, but the guilt still stays hidden deep inside you watching as he reciprocates the smile back at you.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be. Stop worrying so much baby. Maybe you should take some time off from work. You know sleep usually makes you feel better. It always has. My sleepy girl.” 

And there it goes and hits you all at once again. 

Guilt. So much guilt. Sleep doesn’t even feel enough these days. The nightmares make you feel as if you never rest. You are clearly aware that dreams aren’t real life, but you even wake up sore from them. It’s scary how realistic it all feels. Maybe that’s why this makes it worse for you. Everything feels too real.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” But you won't because time off means resting and resting means more sleep and more time for these nightmares to keep haunting you. It’s like you will never win. 

“Eat your dinner baby, it's getting cold.” 

—-

The daydreams continue even at work. 

“Let me see that perfect ass, kitten. Turn around for me.” 

It’s like he completely owns you, hypnotized by his voice. You immediately present for him, face down and ass up sitting so nicely. 

“Fuck kitten, look at you. Tell me, does that lame fiancé of yours ever play with this ass?” 

You whimper a ‘no’ feeling a glob of spit drip into your unused, virgin hole. His thumb caressing the wet ring of muscle, watching you clench around nothing.

“I’ll change that soon, kitten. Just how you like it.” 

Namjoon wasn’t necessarily opposed to butt stuff, the one time you mentioned it he briefly dismissed it. Granted, he was busy at the time with some work, and you were too embarrassed to bring it up again. 

It seems you got lucky nonetheless. 

The man blows hot air into your wet hole, his lips felt soft against your ass. He would leave a kiss here and there before his tongue peaked out and circled around your rim. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You weren’t the most vocal sexual partner yet somehow, under his touch, you were the loudest. 

Moans fell dangerously loud from your lips as he would continue to fuck his tongue deep inside your ass. Stopping every few seconds to stare at your puffy rim, gaping around nothing. Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you were. 

“Please.” 

“What baby?” His palm was heavy against your ass, watching it bounce back. 

“More.” You would beg. 

“Anything.” He would purr back. 

A thumb circled around the velvety muscle before pushing right in, fucking his thumb alongside spit that dripped from his mouth. 

Yes. Just how you like it.

“Y/N?” Your coworker brushes a hand against your shoulder. “You doing okay?” 

“Shit– yeah, my bad Yoona. I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Which is a complete lie, but how do you tell your coworker you’re having wet daydreams about another man (who by the way only exists in your imagination) that isn’t your fiancé and that it is taking over every part of your life and that the guilt of it all sits heavy on your chest as days pass by and there is nothing you can do about it, but indulge in these dreams and practically live in them because you’ve become an addict. 

Yoona breathes out a light hum. “You don’t seem sick.” 

Fuck.

“Yeah… well it’s just starting, my throat feels dry and sore these days.”

“Maybe you should take a day off?” She suggests. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree just so she gets off your back. 

“You’ve been working a lot these days anyways. I’m sure Mr. Gyun wouldn’t mind if you called off. You’re one of his favorites anyways.” She laughs and you fake a smile. 

“Yeah, right. I’ll think about it. Let's just focus on work. We need this revised and sent off by Monday.” 

“Sure sure. But I’m being serious, take a day off or two, you look like you need it. You seem… tired?” She says, worrying by the sound of her tone. 

Because you know she will never let this go, you reassure her. “Yoona, I love you to death, but don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll take some time off if it gets worse. Thank you, really.”

“Alright, just looking after you Y/N. Your soon-to-be husband would kill me if I didn't.”

“I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, now back to the transcripts…”

—-

You knew the night would eventually come. 

There was only so much you could ignore and forget. 

A sudden rush of heat wakes you from one of your nightmares, the jolt in your body scaring Namjoon awake beside you. You knew that he meant no trouble, but he gave you the face of ‘this again?’ and you could no longer push it aside. 

“Baby?” Namjoon’s voice is tired and filled with sleep, but he asks anyways while patting your back gently, as he always does when this happens like the sweet fiancé he is. “What happens in these dreams anyways?”

How do you tell your husband-to-be and boyfriend of seven years that you get completely ruined by another man in your sleep? 

Namjoon was far too sweet and innocent to get mad at you for this and you knew that. Yet the guilt never stopped you from feeling terribly about the situation. 

“You won’t be upset with me?” Your voice comes out as a whisper. 

Namjoon stands to turn on the nightlight by the bed before he lays back and wraps his strong arms around your waist. “Baby, look at me.”

With heavy eyes, you look back at your fiancé. 

His palm cradles your soft cheek, pushing a loose hair behind your ear. “I could never be upset with you, my love. It might help to talk your nightmares through. I’ll be right here with you baby.”

With shaking hands, you take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know where they come from, but there’s this man in my dreams.” 

Namjoon raises a brow, doing his absolute best to understand you even while the clock reads in bold 3:44am. 

“This man, he’s dressed in all black. He— he has these dark eyes.” 

“Dark eyes?” 

“Yeah, he— his eyes are dark, sharp all around, it’s sinister.” 

“Okay. What happens?” He whispers, pulling you even closer into him, your hand falls into his chest for comfort.

“He— he…” You struggle finding the right words. 

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Baby, d-does he hurt you?”

No. Of course not. In fact, he does the opposite. The man pleases you until you can’t give him anymore and he leaves you with sore limbs and the burning stretch between your legs as a reminder of what he’s done to you and what he’s capable of. 

You quickly shake your head. “No but he- he touches me and does things to me.”

“Oh honey, why would I be mad at you about that? That’s completely unacceptable. Nobody should be touching you or doing things to you if you don't want it. I see now why this bothers—” 

“Joonie, I feel,” you start and swallow the awful feeling in your throat, “ I feel like… if I've been cheating on you.”

“Baby, I know you would never. They’re just nightmares after all. It’s not like you enjoy it baby.” This is what you mean by Namjoon’s too innocent and kind-hearted to see past the lines between your words. 

“But- I.”

“Wait… do you? Do you enjoy them?” Namjoon almost looks hurt to ask the question, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, if you do.” 

“I do.” You whisper like it’s some dirty secret.

There’s a pregnant pause before Namjoon pulls you completely flush against his body, rubbing circles behind your back. “It’s okay baby, it's okay. They’re just nightmares. They mean nothing.” 

He kisses your hair for comfort and you let out a sob because they are much more than that to you and you know it. They are all you can think about. Shit, you think if you were given the chance, you would actually let that man have his way with you in real life. And it makes you feel disgusting because you know you enjoy this dynamic way too much.

At first, it was terrifying, you didn’t know the man and he, well he just became a weakness and you wanted him so bad, as much as you hated to admit it. Your imagination was a powerful tool. Why you and why with him? Why couldn’t your dreams be with Namjoon, your high school sweetheart?

“I’m so sorry, Joonie. For all these long nights. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The nightmares don’t stop, in fact they only feel longer and they get worse.” You cry into his chest. 

“I know honey, it’s not your fault. Just think of me whenever you feel this way, okay?” He pulls back, wiping your tears off with his sleeves. Your fiancé was so fucking sweet and that’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was never angry at you or disappointed. Namjoon was always patient with you and a complete sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking stupid. 

“And I’m not mad at you, okay? I never will be. Those nightmares mean nothing to me. I love you Y/N.” Your fiancé whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your face. 

Namjoon has always been way better than you because had you been in his shoes, you couldn’t phantom hearing about him enjoying the presence of another woman. He knew only one part of this story. Namjoon doesn’t know that you spend evenings, the time you have the house alone while he’s off at work, fucking yourself to this strange man’s voice in your head. That you open yourself up just how you do in your nightmares and you swear you hear his voice telling you to keep going. You swear you hear him calling your name asking you about how Namjoon would feel about this. Like if his whole purpose is to make you feel worse about the situation. He’s ruining your life and you’re letting him. You think you’ve given up and it’s just started.

“I- I love you too.” You reply.

Namjoon smiles apologetically, hands gentle against your skin. “Let’s sleep?”

You nod and he pulls you against his hard chest, rubbing your back while he attempts to lull you back to sleep. It eventually comes, but not before you wake to those dark eyes again and the nightmare continues. This time you don't even fight it. He fucks you until you feel yourself collapse and you swear nothing has ever felt better. 

…

The next morning Namjoon gently shakes you awake. “Good morning my love, you slept through your alarm. I figured you could take a day off so I called your boss to let him know you couldn’t come in today. I hope you don't mind.” 

“Joonie?” Your voice is the cutest in the mornings (according to Namjoon), he smiles watching you struggle to wake up. 

“Yes, my baby. I’m just getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Well, it’s not like you have a choice so you accept your fate. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, honey. You slept quite well. You didn’t even wake up this time! Did it help? Talking through it?” Again, Namjoon could be so clueless. 

The only reason you slept this well is because you were fucked into oblivion in your dream. As unbelievable as it may sound, you even felt sore down there. But he doesn’t have to know that, so he’ll just go off to work thinking that cuddles and his sweet words drifting you back to sleep actually worked. 

“Yeah… yeah it did. Thank you again. Have a nice day at work.” You say, still warmly tucked in bed. 

“I will, baby. ” He drops a peck into your cheek, smelling the fresh scent of his aftershave. “Call me if anything. See you later, my love.”

And like that you are left alone once again. The only thing that remains is the fluffy feeling of his plump lips buzzing against your cheek, a faint reminder that you are loved and have been for years, while you think about another man, one that only exists in your deepest darkest of dreams. 

—-

Hoseok doesn’t remember how it happened. All he knew is he was standing in a place unknown, sensing there was another being in the room with him. 

It's not his first time around a mortal human. No, in fact he had so much experience with lustful humans with all kinds of desires and wishes, but it has been quite long since he was manifested this strongly into someone’s dreams. 

His favorite part was watching them act as if they didn’t ask for it. Call for him. They would lie and say that they could never fuck a dead being. A ghost at that. As if they didn’t manifest him themselves. 

It's not like it was Hoseok’s fault for dying young and handsome and that now he tends to people’s guiltiest pleasures. It's not like he has anything better to do in the after-life. In reality, he’s doing people a grand fucking favor. The best thing about fucking a dead ghost is there’s absolutely no consequences, at least that’s what he always tells his victims. Unless you get addicted to one, then that’s really a personal problem. They can’t stay on mortal land forever, but for the time being Hoseok has become attached to his time here. Especially with his new little mortal toy. 

When he first heard the calling, he almost missed it. He was fucking another mortal, a man in his mid-twenties to be exact. The man had called for him in his dreams and he attended to his duty with pleasure. 

This man had a thing for clowns and Hoseok wasn’t no fucking clown, but he did his best to please him. His outfit was in all black (of course, it was his favorite color) and fit him quite well though it was different from his usual style, even down to the clown hat and all.

The guy would scream under Hoseok as he would pound into him like some fuck-doll and would have him come undone within minutes. He was so fucking easy to please. They always are.

When Hoseok came to you the first night. That’s how you found him. He still had the same outfit on (he was ripped from the last dream) and his hat had nearly fallen off in the process, but he was pleased when he came across his next victim. You were beautiful. 

“Who— who are you?” You screeched, covering yourself up, cheeks flushed. You had been doing unspeakable things to yourself in the dream. “What are you doing in my room?!”

Hoseok smiles. God, they always are the same. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to and don’t mind me, keep doing what you were doing before I had rudely interrupted.”

The stranger goes to sit by the vanity in your room, making himself extremely comfortable as if it is a regular Tuesday night for him. 

You try to stand and it's like something washes over you. The strange force pushes you back down and you have no choice but to take it. 

The man chuckles, throwing his hat aside. “Don’t hurt yourself trying. Just let your instincts guide you. Tell me what it is you want, this will all go much smoother and much faster.” 

The stranger in black winks and you feel disgusted (though your pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you).

Still you manage to say, “I want you to get out of my fucking room. I’m about to get married, you know and he’ll fucking kill you.” 

“Ohhh.” He purrs, standing as he walks across the room. He stops a couple steps from your bed and leans down to match your height. “But you asked for me to come, baby. So guess what? Now I am your problem.”

He pinches your nose, wrinkling his own in the process and flashes a charming smile. 

You swat his hand off you almost immediately. “I— I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even know you and I don’t want to know you.” 

“Mm, but soon we’ll know each other very well. Let’s not fight this.” The man’s voice is silky and you could practically see the sinful desire in his eyes while they take in your naked figure. 

You have no idea what he even means by that, but right now you could care less. This is just a nightmare and soon enough, he will disappear and you will get to go back to doing what you were doing before he ever existed. 

“Leave me alone please.” 

The guy puts his hands up clearly coming and going in peace, while retreating back a few steps. “Whatever you say princess. I’ll be back when you’re ready.” 

And just like that the man disappeared into a black distorted shadow. 

He shows up only three nights later. 

This time he catches you on your knees, riding a dildo on your bed. You don’t even hear him until he’s in front of you. Your hips stop mid roll. Whimpering as you feel the tug on your hair.

“Seems you’re ready.” He rasps, having a strong grip on your hair forcing you to look up at him. 

“I— who the fuck are you? Seriously? What do you want with me? I know I’m dreaming and I can wake up any secomd so what the fuck do you want with me.” This time you don’t even entertain him. It’s clear this man has his own vulgar intentions, you wanna skip the small talk. He doesn’t seem like the type to give up until he gets exactly what he wants. 

“The better question is what do you want with me. You manifested me after all, darling.” 

Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you ignore it, for now. “But— I don't know you. How is that fucking possible?”

Even though he knows you won't understand it completely, he still answers truthfully. “I’m dead baby. Anything is possible.” 

Great, so you’re just supposed to believe this man is some ghost haunting you in your dreams. Perfect!

This time you don’t ignore his stupid use of pet names. “S-Stop calling me that.” 

“Oh?” The man pouts, and to be honest that does something to you. If the situation was different maybe you would admit he looks fucking sexy, even if he’s a menace. 

His brows furrow, his jawline clenching as he speaks. “Is there another pet name you like? We’re already getting farther than last time, princess.” 

You don’t even attempt to hold back the scoff, your eyes roll back. “No. I don’t— I didn't ask for you and I don’t want you bothering me anymore. Just please leave me alone. Please.”

The man groans, looking down at you with hooded eyes, the fist in your hair grips harder reminding you that he still had you under his control. “God, but you sound perfect begging. Are you sure of that, kitten?”

The man's voice drops in a sultry tone, nearling purring while he speaks. And somehow, that manages to slip a whine from your throat, nearly drooling at the sight. 

Your eyes immediately widen. “I— I didn't mean that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” The man smiles, petting your head affectionately. You were fucked. “Of course you didn't. You were so close weren't you, kitten?” 

You shake your head, you’re unable to look away, but at the same time you want to throw his hands off you. You felt completely powerless under his gaze and you were liking it a lot more than you would like to admit. 

“Don’t bother lying to me princess, I can smell it. You were so fucking close.” He whines the last part, biting his bottom lip, he seems to breathe in the scent. “So fucking close. I’m sorry. I always join at the worst times, you can continue.” 

He offers like a fucking weirdo, pervert and still you disgustingly want it. 

“I said, don't call me that!” Your hand flies to his and forces it off you. 

“Then talk to me.” He’s rough, but firm with his tone. 

“No. I don’t- can't and I won't. Go bother someone else.” 

“I can’t. You asked for me and you brought me here. Now you have to deal with this.” He doesn't attempt to put his hands back on you, but he does let his gaze wander seeing as you still haven’t moved from your dildo. 

“This is bullshit. It’s just in my head anyways. If I close my eyes it’s like you aren’t even here. Now let me fucking come in peace.” Your eyes closed in the middle of your rant and he seemed to listen. Hoseok backs off, watching you from your wall to be exact, but he lets you take care of yourself. That’s what he’s there for after all. 

After a few seconds of calming yourself down and regaining your arousal, you slowly lift yourself up feeling the dildo pull against your walls and you drop yourself back down. 

Hoseok was right, you weren’t too far away from coming, but he messed up your pace and now you have to work yourself back up. 

It doesn’t take too long before you set a quick pace, fucking yourself onto the silicone length. 

Truly it wasn’t that you and Namjoon’s sex life was bad, in fact he was the best fuck of your life (not that you had much experience given he was your high school sweetheart) but after years of being together, things had changed, a lot. 

You don’t even remember the last time you guys got creative in bed, besides a few vibrators from time-to-time. It was starting to get boring and you didn't want to admit this to him, but you wanted so much more. It's like your body was begging for it. And you didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying it, so instead you kept it to yourself and the sexual frustration built up overtime making it impossible not to think about constantly. 

You gasp when you finally open your eyes to find the man watching you with heavy lidded eyes from your wall, he’s not even touching himself, but you can see he’s hard in his pants. 

He licks his lips as he watches you jump down on the dildo ferociously. Your eyes make contact and that's when everything seems to explode.

Moans start slipping from your lips and you feel the knot in your stomach start to build quickly. The silicone molds around your walls perfectly, feeling the tip brush against your sweet spot repeatedly, fisting the sheets below you. 

Hoseok’s nose seems to flare and he can practically taste your arousal in the air. He watches as you bounce on that useless dildo, wishing it was his cock instead. Your mouth falls open, drool nearly spilling while you feel the knot coming undone.

It isn’t long before Hoseok finally decides to speak and it does wonders. “Come, you fucking slut.”

Fuck.

On call, you come and he’s forced to watch you moan and writhe against your sheets, feeling the dildo slowly push out of you. 

He pushes himself off the wall and comes towards you and you feel too exhausted to push him away. You are laying in the middle of your bed now, dildo still between your legs but it’s fallen out. 

You feel as he pushes the dildo back inside you overstimulating your used hole as he fucks it into you deeply. You really, really shouldn't let this happen. You are going to be a married woman soon for fuck’s sake, but it all feels so fucking good- risky yet new, so you can’t help but to feed into temptation. 

Sadly, your body denies it, for now at least. “N-No I can't. Not anymore.”

His action comes to a halt. “I know. Maybe next time, kitty.” 

And he disappears once again. 

Disappointment and guilt builds all too quickly. 

Disappointed that he didn’t stay and fuck you until you passed out. And guilt that you just came in the eyes of another man and on his call. 

—-

As expected, you spend your whole day off thinking about the stranger. The way he looks at you, the way he bites his bottom lip while taking you in. The way he grips your hair and clenches his sharp, symmetrical jawline when he has you falling apart in his hands. You could feel his touch, it’s impossible you know, but it all feels too real and it all happens so fast. 

He had a name now. He told you in one of your dreams while he was taking you from behind. 

“Say my name kitten. Who’s fucking you this good? Fuck, what a sight from behind. You’re just perfect all around, aren’t you?” Hoseok’s hands grip onto your ass cheeks, fucking into your pussy brutally. He hasn’t stopped pounding into you and it’s already been ten minutes. Maybe more? Maybe less? You stopped counting. Good dick leaves you feeling stupid. 

“H-Hoseok.” You whimper into your pillow, you think you have officially lost your fucking mind. 

“What?” You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips. 

“Hoseok.” You’re louder this time, but your voice is muffled, face falling into your pillow. 

“Louder slut!” There’s a sting on your ass and he has a fistful of your hair, lifting your face from up the pillow while he continues to ram into you from behind. You realize you are so fucking close and he knows it too, you try to meet his strong thrusts, but it’s no use because it knocks the air from under you. He manages to hold you up with a strong grip. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight around me, kitty. You gonna come on my dick now like a good slut? Huh?” 

“Yes!” This time your voice is loud and you scream without holding back. “Hoseok! Hoseok! Oh, nghh… fuck, Hoseok!” 

His name falls from your lips over and over while you come on his cock, just like he asked of you. That satisfies him enough and he squirts his own orgasm all over your plump ass, watching you come down from your own afterglow.

You had come to the fucked conclusion that the only way to possibly fucking fix something like this (as sick as it may sound) is to fuck it away. You had to tell Namjoon, maybe experiment a bit more just so you can finally get this man out of your head. Regain your peace of mind. Namjoon would do anything you’d ask of him, you could assure that. You just had to find a way to tell him so he wouldn’t feel it was his fault or as if he was lacking. Or you could just not tell him. 

Either way you think fucking this away would help for the time being at least.

Sex is a very special and intimate practice and that’s genuinely how it always felt with Namjoon. He always took his time with you and fucked you slow and deep. 

Before, you will admit that it was nice and that’s why he attracted you so much but now, you don’t want it to be nice or slow. You want someone to play rough, break your limits, and touch you in places you haven’t been touched before. You want to be tossed around, fucked until you can’t speak any coherent sentences. Was that just too much to ask for? 

(Hoseok sure didn't think so.)

Right as you had finished cooking dinner, Namjoon made his way through the front door, setting his work bag down by the coat rack.  

“You’re cooking?” Namjoon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Smells good.” 

“Yeah, I figured you deserved a nice meal to come home to. I didn’t have much else to do.” You swiftly kiss him back.

Namjoon pulls you in closer, arms holding you tightly. He still smells as fresh as he did when he first left. “I told you to rest, my love. You didn’t have to do anything.” 

“I know, I know. I really wanted to though. Let’s just eat, we'll talk after.” He nods and kisses your cheek once more. 

“Let's eat then.”

…

Namjoon decides a movie night is needed on a night like tonight. 

You were more clingy than usual (and of course, he loves it). So he puts on a random movie and allows you to cuddle him up to the fullest of your extent. 

“You’re so cuddly today, my love.” Namjoon whispers into your hair, mid-movie. 

“I just missed you is all.” And you really did, it's been long since you and Namjoon had an intimate night (maybe since these dreams started), you think it's finally time. 

He smiles rubbing his hand down your arm. “I missed you too honey.” 

You lift your head from his chest and lean in slowly, he immediately picks up on the drift and leans down to meet your lips. 

His lips are soft against yours, kissing you with gentle movements. His palm comes to rest on your cheek while you escalate the kiss. 

Your tongue comes up slowly and he lets you in quite easily. You take a hand and rake it down his chest, pulling yourself on his lap carefully. 

You start to slowly whine your hips, making it all too obvious about what you need and want. Namjoon follows along without complaints. 

“Do you wanna?” Namjoon asks, a bit breathless, bringing his forehead against yours. 

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”

Namjoon smiles and steals one last kiss before he attempts to stand, thinking it would be best to move this to the bed, but you hold him down with a shove to his abdomen. 

“No. I want it, right here.” You say, finding yourself a little breathless yourself, you needed this. 

His eyes seem to widen for the moment, but he seems to agree and pulls you back in for a kiss, this time he lets his tongue push into your mouth further exploring. He tastes the sweet tang of red wine on your tongue and he groans into the kiss. 

You pull back only for a second as you get rid of your shirt and he starts to unbutton his own. Once the shirts are off, you tug your bra off freeing your breast and bring your lips back together with great force. 

Though he doesn’t complain, Namjoon is in shock. He hasn’t seen you this needy and desperate in years, he thinks? Or at least he doesn’t remember it like that. He lets you rut against his already hard member and kisses you with equal passion.

The next time he pulls away, he tugs on your leggings and he helps you out of them. Typically your panties come down with it, but you decide you’ll just push them aside. You return the offer by pushing his jeans down, including his briefs, his dick slaps against his stomach weighing heavy. 

Your mouth instantly waters, but right now you want him inside the rest will just have to come another time. 

Namjoon looks at you with so much love and admiration and for a minute, the guilt comes crashing down. You want him, you know you do so why is the guilt still there? Is it because even as you have your lover right where you want him all you can think about is how the stranger (Hoseok) from your dreams would have had you flipped onto the couch and had his way with you hours ago. Maybe he would have fucked you against the kitchen counter, defile the damn marble. Maybe he would have taken you right against your front door, like the slut you wanted to be for him. All you know for sure is he wouldn’t have let this much time pass. 

You shake your stupid thoughts away and look back up at your fiancé. This is where you want to be. Where you fucking belong. Without letting your imagination run wild, you rub yourself against Namjoon’s hard length, spreading your arousal all over him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” He bites a moan back, feeling your warm juices, slicken his cock. 

You moan against his mouth when you feel the tip latch on to your hole, slowly sinking down on him. You feel his cock stretch your warm walls and he feels he could come already. It's just been so long (can anyone really blame him). 

You bring your hips up a bit before crashing back down feeling the burn on your tight heat. 

“So warm and tight baby.” His hands land on your hips, toying with the band of your panties. “Come here.”

Namjoon brings you flush against his chest slowing your movement, his lips crash into yours. The kiss feels much different from before. He doesn’t hold back, as soon as your tongue clashes with his, he sucks and bites it playfully. You groan into his mouth, accidentally squeezing harder against his length. 

“Fuck baby, just like that.” His dick twitches deeply against your velvety walls, you can tell he’s holding back. “I think I’ll come soon if you continue like this.”

Like hell, you’ll let him come now, you’ve barely had your fill. Without no desire to, you slowly slide off his dick, dropping knees first onto the cold floor below you. 

“Baby–” Namjoon starts, but you push his hands away as he tries to pull you back up.

“Let me do this, you’ll last longer.” He hesitates, but eventually surrenders, laying his hands aside. “Don’t be scared to use your hands, use my mouth, Joonie.”

Fuck. How could his own perfect, sweet wife-to-be sound this seductive? He hasn’t heard you talk this way since college. And it’s been years since that. He thought the years of young, hot sex were over but he’s been wrong all along. His fiancée was the sexiest woman in the world, that he was sure of. 

Namjoon’s hands find your hair and push you towards his glistening length. It’s already drying, shame, you thought, let’s keep it warm and wet. 

Wrapping hands around it, you take his cock into your mouth, sliding your tongue across the slit, hearing a raspy moan come from Namjoon’s throat. “That’s it baby, God your mouth feels incredible.”

The tip of his cock weighs heavy against your tongue. He’s breathing heavy, while he watches you take him in further. You warm his cock with your mouth just as nicely as when you were on top of him. 

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him as far as you could go, hearing his desperate grunts. Namjoon takes a grip of your hair (he’s still very gentle with it and you try not to be disappointed) and pushes you just a bit further, feeling your throat stretch around him. “F-Fuck baby. I really won’t last.” 

You tap his thigh and he immediately lets go when he sees your eyes water. You pull off with a pop to catch your breath. “I know.”

Your voice is raspy and it’s the sexiest thing Namjoon has ever heard. And you know exactly how to make this whole situation better. Sometimes, a little whiny purr in your voice is all that’s needed to get exactly what you need. “I just want you to come down my throat. Please, fuck my throat daddy.”

Now if Namjoon wasn’t sure he could bust before, he could definitely nut in your fist right in that instant. Yes, he has a daddy kink, sue him. 

“Come here.” Namjoon demands, doesn’t hesitate this time to tug you up a little harder and place you in his lap, before he shoves your back against the couch.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, but the answer is pretty obvious when you see him line his cock up to your hole.

“Fucking you. I’m gonna come inside you. Don’t worry baby, I won’t stop fucking you until you are statisfied.” It’s like music to your ears, his hard member slaps against your clit before he slowly eases back inside you. 

Both moaning at the feeling, he lets you adjust for a few seconds, but you waste no time to wrap your legs around his hips and pull him close. 

“Please daddy, just fuck me.” You whine into his ear. 

This time Namjoon pulls back and right before he slides out, he slams back in, balls smacking into your ass. He fucks you just like that for a while. He’s fast but skilled, finding your sweet spot quite easily. It reminds you both of older times, when things were much easier, when you were both young and easily influenced.

You moan loudly into his neck, toes curling as he fucks his dick deep inside you. “Right there daddy, please don’t stop.”

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his hair that had once been held back by gel begins sticking to skin. It isn’t a surprise to feel him thrust harder and faster, his tongue poking at his cheek as he concentrates. “Fuck baby, I really missed fucking you just like this. You feel so tight around me, look so fucking sexy, just like this baby.” 

You eat up his praise, biting your bottom lip as you feel the tight grip he has on your hips, drilling into you like he used to. Fuck, maybe you were right. This was exactly what you needed. There’s no Hoseok in your head right now. No unwanted thoughts in your mind. It’s just you and Namjoon. How it always should have been. 

A whimper falls between your lips and you feel Namjoon leaving hickey’s around your tits, covering them beautifully with his own little marks. 

Your legs start to shake around him, and warmth starts spreading through you quickly. “Daddy— I- I think I’m gonna fucking come.” 

Namjoon grunts, mouth around your nipple while he pulls off to speak. “Yeah baby? You wanna come?”

Yes. 

No.

Not really.

Preferably you would like him to control your fucking orgasm, flip you around, start pounding into you until you can’t hold yourself together but this will have to do. 

“Y-Yeah. I wanna come.” 

“Come sweetheart.” It’s not long before you moan sweetly through an orgasm, Namjoon fucks you through it as promised and you feel like you are levitating, he maintains sinful eye contact. His thrust starts to become sloppy and you feel the instant he lets go. 

“Inside daddy, inside.” With one final strong stroke, Namjoon comes deep inside you, his breathy moans feel hot against your ear. 

There’s a few minutes of heavy breathing, settling into the couch below you. Namjoon’s breaths follow close behind yours, arm tucked below your breasts, he lays behind you. 

“You were so wonderful my love, I’m sorry we don’t do that enough.” Namjoon breaks the silence, kissing the side of your head.

For the twentieth time that week, guilt falls heavy onto your chest. You didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve this. 

“No, don’t apologize Joonie. It’s my fault, really. I’ve just been… out of it. But I feel much better. All thanks to you. Thank you, thank you for everything you do for me and our home.” You start getting emotional, but you don't let your tone waver. You didn’t want him to know. 

“You know I’d do it all for you, my love” He whispers into your hair, kissing along the soft skin behind your neck. “I can’t wait to marry you baby.” 

There it is again, guilt. 

“I know, I know. Me either.”

“I love you.” He doesn't hesitate to remind you sweetly. 

It hurts to say it with all that is going through your mind, but you force a reply anyway. “I love you too.” 

…

Sleep comes over you quickly that night. 

Finally, you had fucked your sweet and loving fiancé and for once, your dreams don’t start off with you fucking yourself into an orgasm. 

In fact, you don’t dream, at least you don't recall. 

Hoseok immediately knows something is different when he arrives. He doesn’t smell arousal in the air, no this time he can tell you’ve been fucked. He can smell the come leftover deep inside your walls. He’s impressed to say the least. 

He watches your chest rise and fall, a small pout framing on your lips. You sleep beautifully, he thinks you will look even better after he’s done with you for today.

With careful steps, he makes his way to the end of your bed, you jerk your arm so suddenly in your sleep and he holds back a laugh. He’s quiet when he sits besides your sleeping head, gentle fingers run through your hair. 

“Mm.” You hum sweetly in your sleep, molding against his touch, thinking it was your husband-to-be playing with your hair like he normally does. 

Before you hear him say, “someone had a good night. Isn’t that right kitten?”

Your eyes widen, nearly jumping out of bed, but Hoseok’s hands stop you from moving. “It’s just me baby.”

“H-How?” Your voice is raspy with sleep. “You were supposed to be gone.”

Hoseok smiles wide, hand still caressing the back of your head. “Did you really think that would happen, kitten?”

“Yes.” 

“You let him fuck you.” He says like he knows for sure it's a fact. He doesn’t look too happy about it and your deafening silence answers his unspoken question. He pats your cheek. “Naughty kitty.” 

You gulp, his pretty hand wrapping around your throat as he asks the next question. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie and he knows it too. 

“Yeah? He fuck you better than me?” You gulp again.

“Yes.” No.

“Why do you lie to me, kitten?” His eyes flash red (they don’t), but the look he gives you is enough to warn you. Things are about to get serious so fast. “I know everything.”

You know that saying people say about fucking around and finding out. You were about to fuck around and find out real fucking fast that Hoseok doesn’t play with his toy. 

“Then what the fuck are you going to do about it, huh?” The only warning you get is Hoseok’s smile and then he’s fisting your hair tightly. Jawline clenched, watching as his eyes hood and darken. 

“Fuck yourself open, you slut.” He drops the grip on your hair and stands, serious look on his face, he’s not fucking around at all tonight. His hands are quick, tugging his belt off. “Make it quick.”

When he sees you still haven’t moved, a warning comes to you by a strong fistful of hair, shoving you so closely against his face. His breath hits yours, but your lips don’t touch, even though they are so fucking close. You’re tempted to steal a kiss from those soft looking lips, but you’ve acted up enough. “I said, fuck yourself open.”

He drops his grip, letting your head fall into the mattress. Hoseok’s voice is strong and demanding so you stop fucking around and pull the sheets off your body. His eyes fall on your breasts, they are covered in hickey’s freshly made by Namjoon and he tries not to let that affect him. But damn him, he wishes it was him instead. He knows you would never sleep unsatisfied. He would always make sure you slept fucked and sated. Even if that meant, falling asleep on his cock. 

There’s a slight burn when your finger finds its way to your pussy. Namjoon did a number on you, but it makes it easier to fuck yourself open. His come still settling deep inside you.

Hoseok has his shirt off now and he tugs his briefs and pants down all at once, his cock springs out, looking delicious as ever. You hear a dark chuckle behind you. “Uh-uh, wrong hole kitty, I’m fucking that ass tonight.” 

You whimper when his hand comes to stop your movements. 

“I’m not fucking that dirty hole. Turn around. I wanna see you from behind.” He’s not putting it up for question. You push yourself up on your knees and fall back against the bed, lifting your ass towards his direction. 

He curses behind you and smacks your ass. Leaving a red hand mark behind, it almost is as pretty as your face. “Fuck kitten, you really are pretty all around. Fuck that hole open for me.” 

You feel spit hit your hole and your index finger rubs his saliva around your rim. Your chest is heavy, this time for different reasons, you are completely breathless. 

You can’t see Hoseok, but you hear as he opens the drawer beside your bed, it’s where you kept all your toys and lube. You are a finger-deep inside your ass when you hear the lube cap open, Hoseok is kind enough to warm the lube a bit between his fingers before he rubs against your rim and finger. He lets a bit of the lube dribble down your ass cheeks. Hoseok likes it a bit messy and wet. He clicks it close and tosses it besides you. 

“My perfect submissive slut.” He whispers, hands settling on your ass as you finger yourself open with two fingers now, the burn hurts but it feels so damn good. Namjoon has never fucked your ass, but it has always been one of your sexual desires. Nothing could ever compare to an orgasm through anal and Hoseok has taught you a lot about that. 

Another glob of spit hits your rim and you feel him squeeze a finger in. The burn of three fingers tear through you, moaning into the sheets.  “Mm, fuck.” 

He grins watching you hold back moans, biting your lips hard. 

“Maybe I should punish you tonight.” He suggests, still fucking his finger in your ass alongside your own. “If you come like this I’ll let you suck my dick if I’m still feeling nice.”

You complain, turning around to face him, back still arched. “No… please, please Hoseok. F-Fuck me. Fuck my ass.” 

“No.” He’s cold like usual and you know he won’t budge so it's no use. 

“But I-I’ve been waiting patiently. I thought all day about you.” It almost sounds like a purr and Hoseok loves it, spanking the fat in your hips this time with an unoccupied hand. His finger is still deep inside your ass and doesn’t let down. 

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He starts to jerk himself off in the process, the leftover lube in his fingers makes the slide easier, his tongue wets his lips while he maintains eye contact. 

Your cheeks are burning but you continue, “I thought about your huge cock splitting me open. Forcing me to take you e-even when I can’t anymore. I thought about you spitting into my messy hole like you always do. I thought about you fucking me open against the door. Even the kitchen counter. All day, I’ve missed you all day.”

This seems to satisfy him enough so he plays nice. “Turn over. On your back. Show me those tits.”

He pulls his finger out slowly and you miss it immediately but you listen, your own fingers slide out as you turn around for him. His knees hit the bed pulling your thighs apart as he falls between them, his arm falling beside your head. He’s still fisting his hard length, watching your tits rise and fall as you breathe. 

His tongue comes out and licks around your breasts purposely avoiding your nipple. “You let him mark you.” 

“He’s my husband-to-be.” You answer, holding back a moan when he sucks on your skin, gentle enough not to make any marks. “Of course, I did.” 

“Mm.” He hums into your skin, it vibrates and your pussy responds to this, leaking arousal into the sheets. “What else did you let him do, kitten?” 

“He fucked me.” You whisper, practically vibrating below him. 

“Oh I know that. I smell it.” He looks like he wants to laugh, but instead continues sucking around your other breast, giving both tits the attention they deserve. 

“Squeeze them together.” He orders and you listen quickly. His tongue slides and sucks between them, still avoiding your nipples and it drives you insane. You want to feel him. 

“Please.” Your voice is weak.

“Please what?” He asks, looking up dumbfounded, but he knows exactly what you want. He’s making you work for it. “Tell me kitten. What do you want?” 

“Y-Your mouth.” You struggle. 

“Where?” He breathes out, right on top of your nipple, tongue nearly sliding against it. 

“R-Right there.” Your eyes never move. 

You watch as he sticks his long, pink tongue out and very slowly licks your already hardened nipple. 

“Here?” He asks between his own breaths and you moan softly, sounding sweet against his ears.

“Yes.” You whisper-moan. 

He drops his cock, letting it hit your cunt while he starts to suck on your nipples like they deserve. There’s nothing sweet and gentle about this. It’s like he wants to replace Namjoon’s love bites and leave you with his own. 

He switches off onto the previous breast and his hand comes to play with your other breast while he attends to the new one. He licks and sucks harshly, bruising your tender skin. You writhe against him, pussy brushing along his cock, but his hand comes to halt your actions quickly with a strong grip on your hip. 

“Be good, slut.” Is all he says before he continues marking your breasts and you can’t do a single thing, but moan and whine underneath him, feeling empty. The memory of Namjoon is long forgotten. 

Once Hoseok is satisfied with his work. He grins and pulls away. He grabs the bottle of lube beside you and lathers his cock in it. “Should I fuck you now?”

You are quick to nod and you feel bubbly. 

Finally. 

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?” He tempts and teases, his lubed fingers touch your chin and you open with ease, taking all three fingers he offers you inside your mouth. You suck hard and watch him bite his lip.  

You moan around his fingers, his other hand gripping his slicken cock and you feel it catch around your rim. 

“Beg for it, slut.” He slides his fingers out, saliva drips down your chin, you probably look a mess but you don't even care anymore. The sinful desire and lust is ten times worse than any other feeling. 

“Please, Hoseok. Please.” You beg. “I’d do anything. Anything.” 

He sees red for two seconds and then he says. “Then keep your legs open for me. Try to stay awake. Don’t disappoint me this time, kitten.” 

There’s no warning for when he plunges his hard length inside your slicked rim. You know he won’t be going anywhere near your pussy, keeping his promise. You didn’t deserve it. You let someone else use your hole and now he’s punishing you. 

“Oh. My. God.” You moan, it fucking burns, but soon his thrusts turn into pleasure and his cock brushes your sweet spot. It’s like he’s known you all your life, knowing the exact way to tear you apart, piece by piece. 

“Ghost actually, not God, but I’ve met him. He’s not the sweet and forgiving man everyone mentions he is.” Hoseok says this all while buried deep between your ass cheeks and you would actually laugh about this if the situation was different, but instead you moan and clench around him feeling his balls slap faster against your ass. “That’s it kitten, lose your fucking mind.”

And that is exactly what you do.

Hoseok continues ramming his hips into yours for a few minutes, you aren’t speaking clearly anymore so he doesn’t understand a word you tell him, all he knows is that you must be feeling fucking ecstasy by the way you roll your eyes and yell moans. 

His hands grip your hips and he comes to a stop. “Face down. Ass up. I wanna see that ass while I pound it from behind.”

You don’t reply to him, but you seem to understand. With weak movements, you move and nearly fall face first into the bed, weak limbs. You don’t even have the strength to hold yourself together anymore. Hoseok is kind enough to help though, he places a pillow below your hips, just high enough so he can slide right back inside your tight ass. 

He hears your muffled moans against your bedsheets, watching you weakly grip them. 

“Such a nice ass. It’s a shame really.” Your ass bounces while he mounts you from behind, it’s fast but precise, hitting your walls just right at every harsh thrust. 

“W-What is?” He barely hears you reply. 

“That this ass isn’t played with enough and soon I’ll just be a fidget of your imagination. You’ll forget I ever existed and you’ll never, ever receive the sexual satifisation you deserve. But maybe, one day, when it’s your turn to go, you’ll meet me in the after-life and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed this sweet ass.” The ghost’s voice almost sounds sad and you freeze. You don’t want this to end. No.

“T-Then don’t stop fucking me. Keep me here forever.” You whisper frantically, breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh trust me baby, I would if I could. For now, I won’t stop. Stay awake, kitten.” You don’t even notice you are falling unconscious, the stretch and burn of his cock is exhausting and your ass takes him greedily, but his words wake you. 

He grips the side of your hips, pressing his thumbs into your back as he sets a faster pace. Slamming and ramming his dick deep within you. The moans and gasps that slip from your mouth sound so pretty, God he really wishes it would never fucking end, but he feels you slipping between his hands already. 

What the fuck can he do? 

Hoseok is close himself, how could he not be? He’s been practically edging himself for hours and now that he has such a juicy ass at hand, with the most perfect woman he has ever seen, he could practically come inside your velvet walls right now. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse and moan below him, you tremple and shake, the knot inside your stomach is barely holding up. “‘M so close.”

He nods, forgets you can’t see him. He harshly tugs you around, still quite limp and weak between his arms. “Wanna see that face when you come on my cock.”

He plunges back inside, lips close to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. And then you realize, he hasn’t kissed you. This entire time. He’s fucked you religiuosly for weeks on end and you don’t even know what those heart-shaped lips taste like against yours. Would they be as sweet as they look? Would he kiss you gently or would he be harsh and rough like the way he fucks? You wonder about it all at once and it makes you sad for a moment. You want a kiss. Why wouldn’t he kiss you? 

“Kiss me.” You breathe out, he’s grunting above your mouth still fucking you nice and deep. You are beyond positive you won’t be able to move your ass tomorrow but it’s worth it, it’s always worth it. 

He looks up and then looks back down, concentrating on his thrust, you moan but hold your ground. 

“Please. Kiss me.” You whisper, gasping when you feel the knot start to come undone. He knows you’re about to let go and this only drives him to bottom out faster and quicker. Skin smacking quickly against skin. Your asshole has been shaped and molded just for him. You’re loving every second of it, but he still hasn’t kissed you. 

Why?

Your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, he breathes heavy and hot against your ear now. It’s messy, sweaty and his touch is usually rough, but it feels awfully gentle now. He’s still rough inside your soft walls, but something’s changed. 

“Hoseok.” You breathe, you’re so sad. 

He hums against your neck, avoiding your eyes. 

“Kiss me.” You plead again, he kissed your neck so softly, balls smacking harder and faster against your ass. “No, my lips.”

“Goodnight, kitten.” He whispers sounding sad into your ear before he lifts his face from your neck and those heart-shaped lips touch your softly, it’s almost sweet. You come undone as soon as you feel the touch of his magical lips and you swear you feel him come deep inside you.

It all disappears though. 

“Honey?” This time it's Namjoon, hand already around your waist. “You okay? Was it another nightmare?”

A tear falls down your face and Namjoon awes, bringing you into his warm embrace. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” 

Why are you crying? 

And where is Hoseok?

“I am too.” You simply say, crying harshly into his shoulder.

Hoseok watches the scene unfold from afar. He wishes you could feel the ache you’ve left him behind too and there isn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. 

“See you in the after-life kitten. There I’ll spoil you with all the kisses you deserve.”

You don’t hear him, but he knows he means well. Hoseok walks away permanently this time, he’s lost the feeling of his heart long ago, but he feels heavy-hearted and continues on his way to his next victim.  

Until next time.

[glitterjay]

jay hard thought: dating jay and having sex for the first time after constantly teasing him for months. you guys decided to take it slow but recently you’ve been trying to hint that you’re ready by wearing barely anything to bed, squirming around in his lap during movie night with all ur friends, and bending over 24/7 on purpose. you’re convinced he’s gonna be sweet and soft. but you’ve pushed his buttons and caused him to snap so he fucks you rough and calls you a slut who needs to stop being so bratty. he cream pies you multiple times and then the next morning he eats your pussy for hours as a sorry 🤭

yall are something and i want some of that something too

warnings: 18+ content, MDI! jay x afab!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie lmk if i miss something

author’s note: wow. i have been so busy with uni and work that it feels like i completely forgot how to write. im sorry in advance if this is shitty

it had become a constant thing and ー to jay’s dismay ー a habit of yours to constantly tease him. a new fresh relationship had started for the both of you, and despite the very noticeable sexual tension in the air, you both agreed to take it slow and steady. was this part of a plan? absolutely. who were you to deny that seeing jay contain himself didnt turn you on? the way he bit his lip, or how he would excuse himself sometimes while you hung out with friends became an addiction for you. and here you were once again, only wearing one of his white t shirts to bed and just that. nothing else. the rest of the boys were spread around the house, in the guest room and living room, and you knew that if you only wore one of jay’s shirt, he would go nuts. and he did.

“what the hell is wrong with you!? just wearing one of my shirts with a house full of boys? are you crazy!?”

you were disappointed that he didnt do much other than scolding you, but oh were you so wrong. accepting your failure, you closed your eyes and gave your back to him. you kept the shirt, but the only condition was that you could not walk out of the room in just that. closing your eyes and getting ready to doze of, you felt a tingling sensation on your thighs. ignoring it, you kept trying to go to your dreamland, but the sensation started making its way up your legs. you opened one eye to see your boyfriend’s hands making circles on your skin. it was not new for jay to give you sweet caresses before sleeping, but they felt different this time.

in one sudden movement, a gasp left your mouth as his cold hand found your core. you tried to push him away, eyes now wide open, but it was impossible. his other hand held your body against the bed, and he was strong enough to not budge an inch. “you should’ve thought about the consequences of not wearing anything to bed.” his voice was way raspier than usual, and you could sense a different feeling from his eyes. it made you excited, but you also knew that jay was a softie inside.

your train of thoughts had stopped when something slammed into you. you screamed at the pain, quickly putting your hand over your mouth. he was balls deep in you, not moving, just standing there staring down at you. once again, he had thrusted into you harshly, still no preparation at all. the stinging made your eyes water, but it soon started melting with the pleasure of every thrust. you had never seen this side of your boyfriends but god were you loving it.

soon enough you started watching stars around the room. jay kept a fast, harsh, and steady pace, already making you come undone various times. but him? he had enough self control to hold his own release for a long time. just as you were about to reach your fourth high, you felt something warm inside of you. it felt like a whole hose had been turned on and warm water came out of it rapidly. the feeling was enough for you to release your own orgasm, making the juices mix and drip out of your pussy.

“this is what slutty and petty girls get when they tease their boyfriends”

[feitanzi]

Top , Bottom , or Switch? Rough, Soft , or Switchy?

w the jjk men

Warnings: Mature content (mdni), dirty talk, name calling (baby , whore , slut , cocksleeve) degradation, praise , squirting, mentions of edging , overstimulation lmk if i missed something (which i most likely did) not proof read so if u see a mistake feel free to point it out in a respectful way.

smut under the cut U HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Ryōmen Sukuna: Rough dom for sure. He has never been the type to come off as weak or submissive so trust and believe that does not change even in bed. Sukuna fucks you into the bed. single. time. No matter how many times you’ve cum he’s not stopping until he is content with your performance.

“Come on girl, one more” Sukuna coos down at you as he relentlessly pounds you into oblivion. “Y-you said that and hour agooo..” you whine as tears prick your eyes. a loud SLAP echos through Sukuna’s chambers. “Shut it. You’re a concubine and you should act as such whore. do you understand me?” He says coldly as he pulls you up by your hair. you whimper and nod lazily. “Good , now take my dick like the tight little cocksleeve you are”.

Satoru Gojo: He’s a switch in both departments. he can be the dommiest dom or the subbiest sub. personally i have a thing for subby satoru…🤭Honestly with him its either:

“Right there baby? ohhhhh fuckkkkk. You cumming? Yea me too, cum with me baby” OR “F-fuck right there baby please! oh shit i’m gonna cumm please don’t stop this time i’ve be so good for you p-please!

BUT WHEN HE GETS THE CHANCE TO GET HIS GET BACK? you’re finished “Well well well how the tables have turned” Satoru chuckled as he pushes his 3 fingers knuckles deep in to doing the “come hither” movement. you can’t even look at him as you whimper and beg for mercy. your cumming in minutes in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “shit baby i didn’t know you could squirt” Gojo grins widely. “do it again” he commands as he resumes his relentless assault despite your sensitivity. let’s just say ur in for a long ride…

Toji Fushiguro: Def a rough dom. Much like Sukuna he treats you like a ragdoll in bed. Legs not working? he’ll manhandle em for ya. We all know Toji is a really big guy so if we makin him proportional he definitely has the cock to match and boy is he cocky about it. Through the entire time yall are having sex he is teasing you non stop for your whimpers and little whines.

“f-fuck t…oji slow down it’s too much!” you babble. “Awww poor baby. Daddy’s cock to much for you to handle?” he grins down at you as he angles himself to penetrate you deeper. “fuckkkkk this sloppy little cunt is taking me so well. I wish you could see the look on your face” Toji grumbles as he watched his fat cock slide in and out of you. You subconsciously start sliding up on the bed because of how deep he was really hitting you. “nuh uh baby bring that ass back im not done with you”

Kento Nanami: (i don’t really like nanami all that much but i’ll write for him bc i love you. yes you the one reading this) He strikes me as like a soft dom or a service dom. No matter how pent up he is i feel like he always puts your bedroom needs before his

“Are you sure this is alright baby?” Nanami gently asks while looking into your eyes for any type of discomfort or dishonesty. “M fine kento just keep going” you whine. with that he starts to snap his hips in and out of you at a steady pace as he kisses up and down your neck and up to your lips whispering sweet nothings like “you’re doing so well baby.” and “you feel so good wrapped around me like this”

Choso Kamo: SUBBIEST SUB MALE OUT THERE. He cries , whines, whimpers th full package combo.

“f-fuck!!!!” Choso practically wails and you continue to fist his cock. “Baby pleaseeee, you said i could c-cum and hour ago..~” he whines with a pout on his lips. You kiss his neck gently causing him to let out another hushed whine. “Just keep being a good boy fme hm? you’ll get what you want soon sweet boy” you coo at him. You weren’t lying you’d let him cum soon (if you call 5 more denied orgasms soon)

hey yallllll , tryna get back into the swing of things w writing so lmk what u think my inbox is always open to yall 🥹

As always reblogs are appreciated!! Refrain from copying and or translating any works of mine without explicit permission

[python333]

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

[tuliptired]

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.  

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!” 

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either. 

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.” 

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.” 

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant. 

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art. 

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging.  It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

 You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?” 

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that. 

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one. 

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?” 

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong-  was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?” 

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.” 

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?” 

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.” 

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-” 

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?” 

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.” 

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

If your taking requests and are comfortable with it could you write World 42 Miles Morales x fem! reader

Reader has a neice that can't sleep so she puts some music on and dances around the kitchen with her neice in her arms and maybe Miles joining in until the little girl falls asleep

(if it isn't too much to ask but for the song to be rechazame and for skin colour to not be mentioned {I'm Slavic tho💕})

LATE-NIGHT DANCING - MILES 42

A/N: I meant to start writing this a while ago bestie! I'm sorry for the wait, mental health hasn't been treating me the best <3!

Song lyrics will be in blue!

BE PREPARED FOR: SUPER FLUFFY STUFF, SONG LYRICS, DANCING, AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF

It was 11:00 PM.

You agreed to babysit your little niece to snag a little extra cash from your sister.

This leaves you stuck in this predicament, her screaming refusing chants as you try to get her to go to bed. So you just give up.

Sitting her down on the couch, you reach for your phone to make a call to your boyfriend.

It only rings twice before he picks up.

"Yo wassup ma" He says over the phone with a smile on his face.

'I need your help" You groan in frustration. "I have been trying to get *niece's name* to sleep FOREVEERRR, and I can't!!" You start screaming, random rage hitting you.

"Damn, chill girl. I'll be over dere in about 15 minutes, you think you can survive that long?" He taunts, slightly chuckling at his own joke.

He think he so funny...

"Ok. Thanks, baby, see you soon" You say as relief washes over your body, knowing you were gonna have a pair of extra hands.

**TIME SKIP**

You hear a knock on the door and immediately rush to it, smile beaming on your face.

"MILES" you scream jumping on him. you knew he was coming you just missed him so much.

"Woahhhh, hey. Te extrañé demasiado ma, eres tan linda." He chuckles hugging you back

"Wheres *nieces name*?" He says looking around

"On the couch watching her tv" You direct to him with a stressed tone.

He walks into the living room and immediately she's jumping up and down.

"m-miless your hereeeee i miss you!" Even though shes very young shes very literate for her age.

"Yes princesa, im here. So now I need you to explain to me why you keep avoiding your bedtime when Auntie Y/N is trying to put you to bed..hm? He crouches down to her level, tilting his head to the side, with a little pout.

"jus not tired" she whispers pouting a little.

"I got an idea!" He stands up quickly, grabbing his backpack and pulling out his JBL speaker and his phone.

"You up for some dancing *nieces name*. He asks her with a huge grin on his face.

"dance!" She screams excitingly.

His head whips over to Y/n with a smug look on his face as Recházame by Prince Royce sounds throughout the house.

He picks up your niece and walks toward you "Trynna dance wit us ma?" He furrows his eyebrows in question

"Why not?" You say as you start giggling.

Ay, recházame Es que no puedo aceptar tu amor Ay, olvídame Aunque nos duela, hay que aceptar ese dolor

You start laughing when Miles grabs your hands and yall start to salsa, Its so hard to believe, A boy who kills people for a living is in your living room dancing with you and your niece.

Nuestro amor Tiene que terminar aquí Yo no quiero, pero es así Aunque me duele el corazón, oh

You gasp as he dips you real quick and spins you around. Your niece just jumping up and down, happy to be there.

"Damn Miles I didn't know you were the type to salsa" You tease

"Don't put me in a box" He replies chuckling.

Y entiende Entiende, corazón Y, ay, entiende Entiende por favor No, no, no, no

You pause when you don't feel the little presence of your niece.

"Where is-" Your words cut short when you see your little niece snuggled on the couch.

"Guess she couldn't take the heat" Miles jokes walking behind you to look at her.

You pick her up gently and walk her to her room, so she can be settled in her bed.

You shut her door behind you once you finish putting her to bed and step out of the room."

You sneak up behind Miles and hug him from behind "Thanks so much I really needed that" You say softly.

"You good, no need to thank me I'll do anything for you." He says resting his chin ontop of your head.

You can't help but crack a smile. You love Miles Morales.

THE END

[aswefindourwayback]

Authors note: hi guys! this is my first fic for spencer, but i’ve been writing fics for another fandom for a bit. i watched all of criminal minds back in 2020 and have recently gotten back into it and wanted to write something for spencer. this fic is a bit short and like my intro into the fandom. i hope yall like it! feedback is always appreciated as well.

wc: 625

warnings: a bit of fingering

it had been a long day. spencer left early in the morning, not without lightly kissing your neck and adding his hand around your waist. his warm breath caressing your neck, his hand roaming your body, slowly making its way lower and lower down your front. he lightly swept his finger against your clothed clit, making you whine and squirm. you moved your hips forward, silently begging spencer for more. he took the hint and slipped his hand under the front of your panties, inching his way towards where you needed him most. you were practically soaking, your thighs were sticky with your slick. matty softly and slowly rubbed your clit with one finger, slightly teasing you.

“please spence, more. i need more.” you whined.

who was he to deny his favorite girl? he then moved his hand further down, inserting a finger into your cunt, slowly pumping in and out. it felt good but you needed more, you needed to feel him. matty then inserted another finger and started pumping his fingers a bit faster. you could feel yourself hurtling towards your orgasm. just a bit more and you were going to be there. you could feel your stomach turning and tightening at once. the string in your stomach was about to snap, you were so close you could taste it. the only sounds were your moans and the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

but you woke up, it was a fucking dream. spencer had actually left early in the morning for work, but only leaving you with a kiss on your head as you were fast asleep.

you were now feeling all types of discomfort, and your panties were soaked through due to your dream. you knew if you tried to relieve yourself, it wouldn’t feel half as good as when spencer does it, so you got up and spent the day waiting for spencer to come home. you spent most of the day absolutely feral due to your lack of a orgasmic high that you’ve been craving. not only that but you were dead tired but you couldn’t sleep. you were too horny and frustrated to take a nap to pass the time. you’re eyes were itching for sleep, you could barley function.

he got home quite late. you were on the sofa watching a film when you heard his keys rustle in the doorway. you heard as he dropped his bag onto the ground, kicking his shoes off and taking his coat off before joining you on the sofa. with a huff, he plopped onto the sofa.

“hi darling, how was your day?” you ask as you run your fingers through his unruly hair, making him let out a groan that makes the heat between your legs grow.

“it was alright, morgan was being a pain in the ass, i’ll tell you that much. i’m glad to finally be home though, i missed you.” he said giving you a quick peck on the lips. (not the lips you wanted though 😗)

“im sorry darling, is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” you asked.

“no, just be with me please.”

“how do you want me?” you asked seductively, moving to straddle him before he pushed your leg back.

“in bed. asleep. get your dark circles out of my face.”

“bitch. i’m fucking horny.”

“okay and? the bags under your eyes are so bad, you look like a raccoon, love.”

“fuck me then i’ll sleep.”

he moves too fast for your brain to register. one minute you’re sitting beside him on the sofa, the next you’re being pinned down by spencer with your back on the floor.

“fine.”

KISS MWAH MWAH AND THEY FUCK

[rerefundslocals]

BIG DEAL . JJK

Summary : lately you've been feeling lack of affection from your boyfriend and you decide to let it be. until your silence catches up with you.

>>pairing : idol!jungkook x fem!reader.

>>trope : established relationship.

>>genre : angst, smut, fluff.

>>warnings/tags : softdom!jungkook, sub!reader, sad confrontations, crying, wall sex, one ass slap, unprotected sex, oral for one second (f recieving), teasing, dirty talk, cum tasting, sweet aftercare, they jus inlove.

a/n - yall juh vibe and enjoy this, I tried to write it up to par, but it was rushed and is poorly written, forgive me. No bam appearances. Maybe next time!

~★~

"It's not even that serious."

"Jungkook, it is. Stop arguing and fix it."

This is one of the most normal days in your life, non- stop bickering between you and your boyfriend, on the broken kitchen cabinet holding all the fragiles.

"Jungkook, don't go back and do karaoke, my mugs are suffering!" You exclaim, rubbing your forehead at frustration of your boyfriend walking away.

"Baby, come on. I'll do that tomorrow. I'm not even sane enough to hold a screwdriver." Of course he isn't. He just had some beer and is now singing out of his mind, and it doesn't usually annoy you, not when he's listening to you.

You sigh, your heart feeling heavy at his response and you wouldn't usually feel this way over a cabinet, but it's constant now, jungkook doesn't listen to you these days, doesn't even hug and kiss you like you'd like. Those gestures feel forced nowadays.

"Fine, Jk. Whenever you're ready." You don't miss the way Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion when you leave the room.

He wonders why 'Jk' and not 'kook', 'babe' or 'koo'.

Dropping the LG remote he walks behind you, and upon entering your shared bedroom, he finds you on the floor with your phone screen lit up in your face and it looks like to him, you're going through his and your album filled with all your pictures.

"Stop staring, Jk." He catches himself staring too long and perks up at your voice, reminding himself what he's here for.

"What's wrong, baby?" Its ridiculous isn't it? How he thinks he could waltz up in here and expect an immediate response, he should know by now or is he that insolent?

That's all that plagues in your head.

"Bab-"

"What don't you see? Hmm, Jk. You don't care anymore, never listening to me, not even paying attention to my needs anymore. But you have the audacity to ask what's wrong? I don't even want to talk anymore."

By the time you're done, your lash line is filled with tears threatening to spill and soil your cheeks. Jungkook takes note of it and gets on the floor with you, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring your face into his chest as you sob your heart out, too weak to push him away. Jungkooks tattooed hand pats your head lovingly as he whispers apologies, his own eyes burning at the tears threatening to spill.

"I-im so sorry, baby. You and I both know I'd never want to hurt you. Please forgive me. I love you so much." He doesn't expect a response immediately but he yearns it so bad. He want to hear you tell him you love him too.

Your chests are heaving against one another as you both cry your emotions out. Jungkook crying from the stress at work, the stress over you, stress from his bad habits, as he cries into your hair.

You cry on his chest, your tears making his shirt wet as you cry from frustration, crying from the touch you've yearned for weeks, crying because he loves you. He said it and it felt genuine as it swelled in your heart from weeks of not hearing it.

It's about 20 minutes later when jungkook feels your hands fisting his shirt and he knows what you mean, cause when he looks down, your wandering and red eyes are staring straight into his own red eyes and prominent bags.

You bring your hand up to his hair and you run your hand through his locks. You then force his head down to meet with your forehead.

Leaning up, your lips meet his slightly and ever so quietly you whisper to him, " Don't make me feel alone again. Listen to me sometimes and I'll listen to you. I'm here for you, Koo." And softly your lips meet his chapped ones.

Jungkook allows for you to take the lead, as you kiss him softly and ever so passionately, your hands running through his soft locks.

The kiss turns heated as you probe your tongue on jungkooks lower lip, urging him to allow your tongue and he does. His tongue meets your warm one and you swirl it around, doing it as you would a lollipop.

Your hands instinctively go lower as you pull jungkooks shirt above his head, your lips separating to allow the action. You dive back in for his lips but jungkook holds your cheeks in his hands, as his eyes roam your face underneath the bright mikrokosmas light.

"I love you,____, so much." And before you could respond with the same adoration, your being lifted up and your back meets the cold wall.

"Tell me you love me." Jungkook prodes as he removes your baby tee from the confines of your chest.

Your breathing is picking up as you're only getting wetter at the thought of being fucked against this wall, and jungkooks dominance showing out.

Jungkooks hand is toying with your tits and you throw your head back to moan, totally forgetting what jungkook had asked of you.

"Tell me or I'll stop,___."

"I do, Jungkook. I love you so much! So, Please touch me." Your hand guides his tattooed one to your clothed pussy, and jungkook complies, rubbing your clit on your spandex shorts.

"That's it, baby. That's all I wanted. Gonna fuck you now."

"Please~" you whine, feeling your high coming from just being rubbed through your shorts.

Jungkook chuckles at your desperateness, choosing to tease you even more as he peels off your shorts at a torturous speed, that is so so slow.

"Jungkook! Please!"

"Getting there, baby." And with a swift pull, both your shorts and thong are ridded off your body and you're left bare for jungkook.

Your pussy meets the cold air and a thin coat of sweat is on your collarbone and forehead from your desperation, you tell yourself to wait a little more as you watch Jungkook rids himself of his sweatpants.

But you can't. So you bring your fingers to rub your clit and the pleasure has you moaning exaggeratingly.

"Fuck! Kook!" Jungkook perks up and quickly brings his tip to your aching pussy, the hardness of his cock confining in your pussy walls.

In unison you both murmur a , "fuck!" Into the room.

As slowly as he starts, jungkook thrusts up into you as your hands come down to his hair, and your lips meet for a loving kiss as his thrusts become more sharper and faster.

"Mmh, such a tight pussy for me. And you always this wet? Tell me, baby." Jungkooks words are so dirty and urge your tummy to coil tighter as you feel your high coming.

Jungkook recieves a Moan as response and he isn't so happy, he just wants his good girl to tell him if she's so wet for him. What's so hard about that?

If only he'd know how his dick makes you lose your ability of speaking. But he doesn't when he lays a slap upon your ass, the sound filling the room along with your slickness on his cock, as it slips in and out of you with ease, the sound of Mac and cheese in the room.

"Answer me." You mutter a chant of 'fucks' as you lay your head on his sweaty shoulder, your high approaching.

"Y-yes, Koo- m' so fucking wet for you! I'm gonna cum! Sh-hit I'm gonna fucking cum." You mewl your sentence messily as a fucked out jungkook smirks at your legs going weak in his arms.

"Cum all over this cock, baby, wanna hear you cum." Jungkools gruff voice fills your ears as you bite down on his shoulder, your eyes hazy and watery at the sensation of cumming do hard.

Jungkook doesn't stop thrusting and youre moaning loudly and tiredly, awaiting jungkooks load in your pussy.

"Mmh, fuck! So fucking tight." His thrusts are sloppier and wetter, as the mix of your cum and his wet dick fill you up.

"Cum inside, kook. Fill me up." With a low groan, spurts of white fill your pussy as your feel it trailing down your thighs.

Jungkook came.

And it's so fucking thick. But with enough time to spare thinking about it. Jungkook peels your body off the wall as he brings you to the bed.

Quickly rushing to grab a wet cloth.

He comes back and places it on your swollen clit and messy pussy.

He backtracks, moving it away and taking initiative as he places his tongue on your pussy, licking up both yours and his cum off.

It catches you off guard as you let out a low moan.

Jungkook quickly finishes and he finally cleans you both up. Grabbing fresh clothes for you to sleep in.

When jungkook places you comfortably in the blankets, he turns to leave and your grabby hands pull him back.

"Koo, where you going?" Your eyes are fighting it at this point and jungkook chuckles at that, his smile genuine.

"I'm just going to switch off the TV and lights, okay? Be right back, angel."

And he's back before you know it, leaning over to switch off your side lamp.

Placing a long deep kiss on your forehead, jungkook promises to love you forever as you fall into deep slumber.

whispering the promise back into his chest, you finally allow sleep to take over you.

Do not copy my work. I'll find you.