#HOW DO YOU HAVE THE HEART TO TAKE HIS HAT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kommanders · 6 hours ago

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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

🏩 pairing - clark kent x fem!reader word count - 3.8K summary - clark invites his best friends over to kansas for a trip, let’s just say he introduces you to a few midwestern customs… cw - established relationship, co-workers/best friends/lovers, no superman (2025) spoilers, i make one corny joke in here please ignore and read on, reader has a small nickname peaches but anything else is up to your imagination! you can tell idk much abt kansas, swearing, kissing, slight blasphemy, body worship, praise kink, mild dom!clark, marking, oral sex (fem receiving), slight hair pulling, unprotected penetrative sex, aftercare a/n - i finally saw superman wtf it was amazing!!! prepared to be sick of me! letterboxd

the chords of southern rock filled the air of the kent's barn conversion, as the party rolled in full swing, with people drinking, dancing and laughing till their hearts content.

you sucked in a breath, admiring the gorgeous scene and slowly sipping your kansas ice water, the mixture of gin and vodka burned the back of your throat. but in a good way, a way that created a breeze of softeness that permeated your belly.

to your right, lois was challenging a bunch of cocky men to an arm wrestle, to some the effort seemed futile but you knew lois like the palm of your hand. she may have been 5'3" but her eyes held a fire that you knew ate up men for breakfast and spat them straight out.

it was the same look she gave before she beat up a drunkard for staring at her ass for too long a couple years back. as she won her third straight round in a row, you snorted, lois lane was no damn quitter.

taking another swig from your drink, you spun left - here was jimmy olsen doing typical jimmy olsen shenanigans. he was seated on a bench; there were two blonde girls to either side of him, a brunette behind him and a gorgeous redhead perched on his lap. they all giggled and cooed over the journalist as he flexed his signal watch in their faces, squealing when he revealed how it was direct communicator to superman that only the hero could hear.

you often wondered if superman's parents would have been prouder to have jimmy as a son, after all that, harem was coming together pretty nicely.

suddenly, you felt a large heat signature behind you - one that encompassed all your being and made you close your eyes for just a second, so you could gather your thoughts.

you spun round and clark came into your eye-line. he wore a some dark wash jeans, old beaten up boots, a fitted belt, and a light blue checkered shirt. one that conveniently had a few buttons popped, giving a view of his broad chest which left little to imagination. his head was adorned by a brown cowboy hat that contrasted perfectly with the shadows across his face

his voice brought you back down to earth, shaking you awake, "hey, feels like i lost you in here..." he paused breathlessly and chewed on his bottom lip, "...you're having fun right?"

clark was nervous.

his parents had retired to bed but the party was lively as ever.

not every day you bring home the girl you love to meet your parents and take in your upbringing. whatever the kryptonian version of shitting bricks was, clark had it 10x worse.

you noticed his anxiety and placed your hands into his bringing them up to your mouth. your kisses were so delicate it was as if a ghost had skittled past his soul, snatched it and ran out the door.

"i've loved every single second of it," you spilled out honestly, "i love the village, i love the farm, i love how considerate and heartwarming your parents have been to me, but most of all i love you, clark."

at those words, his heart melted towards the floor and lay at your feet. he broke out in the largest smile.

you pressed your nose towards his, "i love how you trust me with your secrets, how you always put those closest to you first, and most importantly i love the way those jeans fit on you."

you winked up at him sneakily, as your hands left his and now teased the waistline of his boxers. he grabbed your hand and spun you around, "that ice has done a number on you, hasn't it?" he chuckled lightly. you always knew how to bring him back from the brink of no return. it's what he cherished the most about you.

clark bent down to hug you and met you halfway in a light kiss, a promise of always being there for one another. "i love you more than you could ever know," he confessed.

"more than jimmy loves his group of women over there?" you taunted and flicked his hat slightly upwards.

"definitely."

you both broke out in a fit of laughter.

in the past week, along with lois and jimmy, the kent's had shown you all around the farm: their pride and joy. lois had fed the chickens and led the ducks over to the pond like a proud mother; jimmy talked pa kent's ear off about the anthology he was writing about all of clark's known enemies (clark had to cut in when jimmy blabbed about his ass kicking against the kaiju last month); and you, the light of clark's life, spent time baking with ma as she gave you all the secrets to a top tier blackberry cobbler.

his mother jumped at the opportunity of showing clark's baby photos, wasting no time in showing everyone her beautiful, fat baby. he quickly snatched it out her hands and avoided all eye contact with you. "i think the cobbler's ready," he coughed and zipped out the room in embarrassment.

the truth was clark had already decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as he watched you enjoy yourself earlier during a line dance. the poor man always had two left feet and his frame was too large - all he did was bump into you.

but you, the love his life, had thrown your head back and twirled alongside ma kent, proving to be a natural. it stirred something human in him that he didn't know he even had. it was these moments that clark knew he wanted you to be his everything.

“clark?”

your voice rung in his ears like a sweet prayer, coaxing him from an abyss that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to wake up from. the two of you locked eyes and he kissed you again, though this time it was deeper, like a promise he knew he wanted to go to end of the universe to fulfill. his hands moved to caress your waist, pulling you in tighter to his centre - he needed his hands on you at all time. your body was like putty and the lord knew that clark liked to mould you in whichever way he liked.

all of a sudden, lois’ cheers grabbed your attention as you broke your kiss with clark, noticing how he chased you to continue and grabbed your waist tighter.

your focus shifted to the scene in front of you as a swarm of locals surrounded your friend, cheering her name and hoisting her up in the air. she’d completed the smallville tradition and gained her a hoard of drinks for the rest of the night.

“gosh, i don’t know how she does it, can you believe she conquers that bull better than me?” clark snorted behind you.

“that’s my girl,” you stuck your tongue out at him and made a beeline for the reporter and moved to fist bump her.

“god! that was exciting, did you see how i made that machine my bitch?” she laughed out loud and took a swig from her coors.

“well there’s no feat too big, or too small for lois lane.” you jabbed her side and smirked

you both lightly conversed in your own world, as jimmy grew bored in the corner with all the surplus attention, he peeled the group of girls off his chest and sauntered over to clark, with a wicked idea plagued to his lips.

"heyyyyy clarkie, how you doing?" jimmy swung his shoulder around clark, despite the man being too tall and the redhead being stood at an awkward slant. unfazed he glanced up to the man, rimming his hand across the top of his hat and smirked, "having fun?"

"what do you want jimmy?" clark sighed, knowing the boy for what seemed like forever he knew that olsen always had some sort of tomfoolery up his sleeve.

'have you introduced your beau to any kansas traditions yet?"

"of course," clark began defensively, he barely noticed you and lois coming over to intrude their conversation, "i-introduced her to the kansas ice water, she took a part of the line dance with ma - she was amazing by the way, ma loved it - an-and i took her to the cornfield where they strung me up-"

"yeah okay, okay! i get it!" jimmy shook his head but he's smirk grew even wider when he beckoned towards you, "what about the other two customs?" he motioned to the mechanical bull. "i heard all visitors gotta take a shot at it, winner gets to steal clark's hat, i heard its high quality greeley"

"is that so, olsen" you both were on the same wavelength and giggled at clark's reaction. you were gonna ride more than one bull tonight, one way or another. "maybe clark's too scared to meet his match."

"no, no!," clark spun round to face you, his face was bright red and he could feel his resolve crumbling, "that's not true-"

he reached out to grab you but you had already started to make your way over to the back of the barn and towards the bull, he placed his head in his hands and glared at jimmy.

lois piped up from the side with a drink and slapped clark on the back, "oh clark, you have no idea what you've just started."

in the meantime, you climbed onto the bull and grabbed the handle tight as you gave the signal to the guy controlling the bull to start. you gave one last smirk to your boyfriend, knowing exactly that you'd kick his ass.

"let's go peaches you got this!" jimmy clapped and jeered loudly, dodging a dirty look that the kryptonian threw his way, "clark kent, after this you're gonna spend the rest of your life with your knees bruised and speaking my name like a goddamn prayer."

the bucking machine spun you forward and you kept a tight grip onto the leather saddle, it shifted violently again to your side and you sucked in a deep breath. in no mood to fail you dug your heels in tighter to the grips and placed one hand in the air.

you began to eloquently control the machine and signalled again for the operator to crank up the speed. you'd bossed the first 30 seconds and were aiming for another 30 more.

as you swayed your hips to the rocky rhythm you kept your eyes locked onto clark.

you wanted this to be as painful as possible for him, and, oh what a sight you had created, as he watched with his mouth parted his beautiful girlfriend show of her newfound rodeo skills in front of the entire company.

praises were thrown your way as the tempo shifted from 'slow' to 'medium,' you continued to swing your body along with the bull as it shifted you up in down, "hell yeah!" you shouted as you maintained your centre of gravity.

as your hips continued jutting in a circle, your boyfriend couldn't help feel like he was sucked into a hypnotic daze, he imagined you as if you were riding him instead, clamping down on him and sucking him dry with lust.

clark felt blood immediately rush from his head down to his cock, his hard-on began to become more pronounced and begging for attention.

a drop of sweat dripped from clark's brow as his jaw clenched tightly, in the moment he considered using his powers to snatch you up and take you to bed but he was interrupted by you throwing your hands in the air.

you had lasted 60 seconds and had conquered the machine, as people gathered to cheer you, instead you strutted over to clark, your hips of steel oozing sex appeal, your eyes never leaving his.

"well, well, city girl, you really gave the man a run from his money," lois teased him and high-fived you, she knew exactly the game you'd played and silently congratulated you for unknowingly putting yourself up for the night of your life.

"thank you, lois," you flashed the trio your million dollar smile and moved to snatch clark's hat, "i believe this belongs to me, queen of the rodeo."

as you boasted your prize to your friends, lois and jimmy burst out in a fit of laughter as the plan worked a little too well; you faltered questioning, "wha-what's the last custom?"

wiping his tears of laughter away and clearing his throat, "well you see, peaches, i'm afraid super boy forgot to introduce you to the last custom."

lois cut in abruptly, "you see, you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy," and at that, proud of their admission they ran off like schoolchildren, leaving the two of you in a tense scenario.

you finally peered at clark, and tensed, silently cursing at yourself for not knowing the infamous 'hat rule.'

a few more buttons from his shirt had become undone, his undershit sticking to his neck, did he usually glow like this?

his cheeks were as red as a berry and lips separated by the smoky lines of sin and repentance.

his eyes began to darken with ardour and with choked out with one quiet purr, clark had set the tone for tonight, "let's go."

and at the speed of light, he grabbed you and exited the venue, taking you towards the deepest depths of his desires.

***

you landed firmly against clark's bed as his childhood bedroom was on full display, filled with countless posters, trophies, and even the lego flowers set you had gifted him on your 6 month anniversary. his hat slipped off your head and landed soundlessly on his bedside table.

you were about to make a comment when suddenly clark pinned your hips to the bed, grinding his hard on right onto your core, leaving you a moaning mess.

he latched his lips onto yours, all tongue and teeth, as his frustration pervaded the kiss.

you attempted in fighting back, sliding your tongue across his as you sighed sweetly in his month, returning back the element of desperation.

much to your avail clark pulled back and tutted across your neck, not kissing, but hovering; trying to prove a point and relishing in your pain.

"clark," you whined, attempting to grind into his centre as his hands gripped your hips and halted the movement, "i promise i'll be good, please."

you begged and begged but your lover was stubborn to the highest of heights.

"tsk tsk, baby... i'm here to make you pay," he sucked sickening marks onto your skin, visible enough that you would definitely need to cover them in the morning.

your breath grew uneven as you closed your eyes and tried to bring yourself to an inkling of pleasure but clark now pushed you down on the bed.

he made an effort to strip you of your shirt and bra, as your breasts slipped free his lips latched onto you, suckling onto you with pleasure, he gently sighed in pleasure, "i'm gonna make you pay for the scene that you caused." clark bit firmly onto your left nipple as he fondled the other breast, looking you in the eye whilst in motion.

you felt your panties become even stickier, an obstacle that you knew you had to get rid of.

"i didn't me-mean it!" you moaned as clark had know turned his attention to your navel, tracing your navel as if he was prophesying the sweetest bounty that laid right beneath it.

with that dominating nature, that he didn't always possess but you loved when he did, he placed his pointer finger and thumb onto your chin and turned your face to make contact with his eyes. his other hand rested at your lips, signalling you to open your mouth.

"you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" he tilted his head and mocked you. if there was anything clark always got what he wanted.

you nodded and opened your mouth. his fingers entered and you sucked hard, closing your eyes and whimpering so loudly, clark felt precum drip onto his jeans and stain them.

he pulled them and slowly descended down your legs until he reached your pearl, giving it a ghost-like rub, enough to drive you crazy.

as he got you off, he praised you, "you rode that bull so beautifully peaches," his lips met yours again, a kiss that was slower but now more sensual, dirty, as he played with your dignity, "i wanna see if you can do that for me."

you were being worked to the peaks of an orgasm, when he snatched his fingers away, leaving you dry and edged on the bed.

"clark what the fuck!" you whispered angrily, he knew you hated being edged and denied.

he rested you back on his plush pillows, shushing you lightly - he began to pull your trousers off, leaving you only on those sweet red panties. he loved when you matched your lingerie to his suit.

"i want my rodeo queen to feel good, know lie still," he commanded and kissed leisurely up each of your thighs, leaving more bruises on your skin which would definitely leave your thighs burning tomorrow morning.

"my amazing girl" clark moaned over your pussy and the vibrations sent shivers up to your knock, you tried to close your legs but his superhuman grip kept them open.

"you're gonna take everything i give you" he simply stated as his teeth latched onto your panties and ripped them off your legs, tearing them up as they landed on the floor.

you attempted to close your eyes but he bit gently on your thigh, you rushed to open them and you sat up on your elbows; you looked down at him with your pupils blown wide.

"you're gonna watch everything, just like how you watched me."

and with that clark dove in and started consuming you.

he licked a long, slow stripe from your centre to your clit, relishing in the taste as you sucked onto your clit, "you taste so good."

he was in heaven as he kept lapping at your core and licking up your juices.

normally, clark was modest and polite, careful when he mapped you with his tongue - but this sight wasn't any normal clark.

he was messy with intention as more of your juices poured out on his tongue, he reached further inside begging for more. once more he circled your clit and moaning deep into your pussy as his nose was covered in you.

"clark i'm so close" you moaned and bent your eyes down to look at him, lust was crimped into the particles of the air; your legs shook around his head.

"come on baby, show me what you've got, cum for me," he pleaded and on command you felt yourself let go and collapse onto the pillows.

the only thing that could be heard within the room where your sweet cries and clark licking your orgasm away as he squeezed his hand into yours, a promise that he'd take care of you forever.

you lay boneless and barely responded to clark making his way back up you body, meeting your mouth in saccharine kiss that was all consuming and made you dizzy.

his erection rubbed against you thigh, you could feel the leaking precum; he made work to removal articles of clothing.

his belt, overshirt, jeans and briefs dropped to the floor as he was left in his white vest.

the sight was erotic and the undershirt only made your mouth water even more as his carved body peeked through.

with all the strength you could muster, you flipped the the position of favour as you were now sat on clark's lap. you ripped the vest over his broad shoulders, frantically kissing his neck, whining in heat.

"ride me, honey," he goaded, picking up the abandoned hat and adorning it on your head, grinding his cock into you, feeling every ridge and every beautiful vein that your tongue had traced in the past. "i wanna see you wear it while you come undone."

you nodded and with your permission he moved his cock under you, collecting your juices and gently sheathing you onto him.

with both of your eyes on each other, you moaned in unison, in sin.

your hips glided across his cock, bouncing on his heat and taking everything that he gave you as he sang praises in your ear, "you ride me so good."

to balance yourself, you placed your hands on his chest and kissed across his collarbone, marking him back.

you wanted to show that you wouldn't stop without putting up a fight.

his hands lay on you ass and gently squeezed it as you both moved in tandem, fighting harmoniously to give the other the most pleasure.

he pushed the tip of the hat away and pulled you hips down onto him, you yelped as his cock began to hit the sweet spot that made your toes curl and breath rush out of your body. your breasts pushed into his face and he kissed them lightly in acknowledgement.

"you're close?" clark knew your body as if it was his and sneakily placed his fingers across your clit and used his super speed to bring you to your precipice again.

in response you clenched onto his cock, making him moan, you began chanting his name like a chorus, ready to open your heart to him as he slammed into you harder and harder, a creamy white ring connecting the both of you in love.

suddenly, the two of you stopped as your orgasm triggered his won, your come both mixing together. clark filled you up to the brim and pressed one last kiss to your foreheads, then the tip of your nose, then you mouth, "gosh, you're something," he muttered in your ear.

he lay you carefully back onto the bed and stood up to fetch you a cloth, water and some clothes.

his strong frame filled your vision when he moved towards the bathroom, his ass bulging tightly, "you've got an ass that'd make a bull quake in fear, kent!" chuckling lightly.

"i'm flattered baby," he sarcastically offered upon return as he wiped away the remain of your release and gave you a sip of water. he put on fresh boxers and then moved to dress you in of his old football t-shirts.

resting in his snug covers, he kissed your cheek, "i love you, you know?"

"i love you too, clark," you sighed.

"good, cause only you could ride me that good," he smiled wickedly as your hand slapped his chest.

"she ride you that good?" two amused voices rang out from outside the door, none other than jimmy and lois who had heard everything.

"fuck off, perverts!" shouting at the top of your lungs.

clark rolled his eyes and pulled you on top of him.

"okay, okay! thought they'd be more grateful y'know? masterplans don't come out of thin air like that!" jimmy tutted as they both walked off to bed.

what a night.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent #clark kent imagine #dcu #dc x reader #dc comics #david corenswet #david corenswet x reader #dc imagine #lois lane #jimmy olsen #x reader #superman x reader #superman #one shot #superman 2025

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bangtanfanfiction · 3 days ago

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out of breath → jjk (M)

♢ Pairing: Jeongguk x female!Reader

♢ Word count: 6k

♢ Genre: fluff, smut ↳ Warnings: smut, dirty talk, slight degrading kink, sub/dom tones, subby jk, cursing, so much cursing.

⌲ Description: In the midsts of your emotional joy and pride of your boyfriend’s discharge, he comes home desperate for you.

Your legs were shaking.

Matter of fact, your hands as well. Or just include your entire self at this point, because you were a nervous wreck.

How couldn’t you be? It was such a big day, and you had hardly slept since the night before.

Today was the day your boyfriend returned to you for good. And you could hardly breathe until he was back in your arms without the restrictions of the one-day off pass each month.

The amount of press you had passed on the drive in was insane, not that you expected anything less for the discharge day of two BTS members. You had watched the news yesterday when Namjoon and Tae had been discharged, and the frenzy for Jimin and Jeongguk was not any less.

Perhaps even more, if you dared to guess.

“Are you sure you want to wait inside the car, dear?”Jeongguk’s mother, essentially your own mother-in-law with the time the two of you had been together, looked at you with a worried frown.

She knew how much you had missed him. His parents were already treating you as a daughter, but you also didn’t want to take all the attention away from the reunion with their son.

You already lived together with him and had endless time to spend together after, so it was a small matter of taking a step back and you were more than happy to provide them with that moment.

“I’m fine, please don’t worry about me. I’ll come out when you’re done greeting him.” You smiled assuringly, giving her hands a gentle squeeze as she huffed almost stubbornly.

“Your stubbornness is truly something else.” The shake of her head was more scolding than truly anger, and you only continued grinning.

“Darling, stop nagging the poor girl.” His dad called out from the outside of the car. He stood beside Jeongguk’s manager, three bodyguards spread around the immediate area. “Let her do as she wishes.”

Your group was parked outside the center of the base where his battalion stayed. A few minutes drive away from the park where the press was waiting. So it was private and quiet, only family for the soldiers discharging on the same day waiting around in small groups.

“Fine. But I’m telling you, his first question is going to be where you are.” She hardly let you answer before shutting the door as you wished, only leaving you to giggle to yourself.

You wouldn’t think that wanting to let her have a moment with her son during one of the most important days of their lives would be met with so much resistance. And that was why you knew he was the one for you.

You hadn’t just fallen in love with him, but came to care for his entire family as well. And the thought of leaving any of them was a heartbreak you never wanted to go through.

The car was silent with you being its only occupant in the backseat. Despite the tinted windows from the outside, you could watch it just fine from inside. There weren’t that many families around, and you could guess that they had scheduled the release of the boys earlier than normal to not inconvenience others around them.

You watched the main door of the center almost without blinking, your heart pounding and seeming to stop for half a beat every time that door opened only to reveal someone else.

Just as you were about to force yourself to relax, the door opened again and this time you sucked in a sharp breath. And oh my goodness, what a vision he made.

His standard military uniform was worn to perfection of course, as expected of him. Brown combat boots, black standard beret and sleeves folded up to above their elbows. You knew his hair had grown, but it was hardly seen underneath the hat. You had missed the sight of his tattoos decorating his skin. There were of course no piercings or makeup to see, and you found that vision even more beautiful.

Both Jeongguk and Jimin looked more than a little tired, their faces and eyes puffy, as if neither of them managed to sleep a full night of either excitement or nerves. But they were both grinning widely.

Jimin jogged into the arms of his parents and little brother with a laugh, and Jeongguk took large quick strides to meet his jumping mother with a sweet grin and tight hug as his dad patted his shoulders with warm affection. His older brother was waiting on the side until he was released from the hug, before they embraced as well.

You took in the scene in a near serene state, happy from simply watching and nearly forgetting you were a part of this family. You watched as both Jeongguk and Jimin chatted away with their families, greeting their managers and close circle staff - and it wasn’t until his mother turned towards the car with a pointed look you somehow knew was meant for you, that you snapped out of it.

Your hands were sweaty as you gripped the handle, and with another deep breath, you finally managed to pull the door open.

The simple sound of the sliding door snapped Jeongguk’s head over as you stepped out and within a couple of breaths, his larger than life form and broad shoulders had nearly slammed into you.

Your reaction was instant - arms curling tightly around his neck, legs wrapped around his stomach tightly as he lifted you up in his excitement, and face buried in the curve of his neck as your tears welled over without control. His tattooed arm curled around protectively, the other cupping the back of your head as he said nothing, simply holding you close, breathing in your scent deeply. But by the sniffles mixed with gentle laughter you heard, you knew he was crying as well, only less hysterical than you.

You had been unable to see him for the last three months on his days off due to work obligations that needed you to travel, and instead had to settle with a video call.

Now that the realisation of him being back for good has settled in, you could finally release all your emotional turmoil from his absence the last eighteen months.

It must have been minutes before Jeongguk managed to coax you into lifting your head back up from his neck as he let you back down onto the ground. And before you could say a single word, he cupped the sides of your face and kissed you for the first time in months.

He was holding back so badly, you felt it in the slight tremble of his mouth and the harshness of his breaths due to your friends and family being around. He wanted to kiss the fucking breath out of your lungs, but settled for a firm but short caress of his lips instead.

Pulling back slowly, Jeongguk rested his forehead against yours. The fabric of his beret tickling your skin as your glassy eyes took in his face.

“Hi,” You whispered, hands clasping his full cheeks lovingly.

His lips tugged, pecking the inside of your palm before replying. “Hi beautiful.”

“Your cheeks are rounder,” You observed. He looked so beautiful and healthy, full of life despite coming out of the military. “I love it.”

“Don’t I remind you of my fifteen-year-old self?” He joked.

“Cute.” You agreed with a giggle, your voices only trapped in the little bubble you’ve made for yourself a couple of spaces away from the others.

“Ahhhh, I knew I should’ve gotten a girlfriend before enlisting. I want to have a romantic reunion as well,” Jimin’s familiar teasing voice called out as the two of you finally stepped apart to face him.

He walked over with twinkling eyes and bright signature smile as you met his hug tightly.

If you were to rank the best huggers, Jimin was certainly right beneath Jeongguk - all genuine warmth that surrounded you with a gentleness only Park Jimin was capable of towards those he cared about.

All of the boys had managed to make themselves a part of your life somehow after Jeongguk had introduced you to them. They had been nothing but sweet and welcoming, even if a bit cautious in the beginning until the two of you had truly cemented yourselves in each other’s lives.

“Hmph, it would be much more romantic if somebody had a ring on their finger,” Jeongguk’s sweet but nagging mother pouted loud enough for every0ne’s amusement, but Jeongguk’s exasperation and your slight fond embarrassment.

“Mom.”

It wasn’t like this topic hadn’t been brought up before. You and Jeongguk talked about everything there was to discuss as a couple. Engagement, weddings and children were all in the picture, it all depended on when and not if.

“Sorry to break it up, but Jimin and Jeongguk have to go and meet the press in about five minutes.” One of the managers spoke up apologetically.

Jeongguk’s smile fell as he turned to you almost longingly. You smiled gently in return, molding yourself against his side as you reached up to press a peck against his cheek.

“I’ll see you at home later, okay?”

“You’re not coming with me?” He frowned.

“Not this time, baby. You’ve got a bunch of people waiting for you at the company, as well as millions of fans.” Your pointed look was met with an agreeing sigh.

“I hate that you’re such an understanding girlfriend sometimes,” He wrapped himself around you almost like a clinging child, his size so much bigger than the last time you saw each other.

“Excuse you, Jeon Jeongguk. I am an ARMY, for your information,” You turned your nose up sassily as he smirked. “And I would have wanted to see the face of my idol too after nearly two years.”

“I can’t help but feel like if it was me against ARMYs, you would have chosen ARMYs.”

You winked. “What can I say, you got some attractive fans, baby.”

A loud raspberry bubbled out of Jimin’s mouth as he rolled his eyes up towards the sky impatiently. “Alright you lovebirds, we have to go!” he exclaimed, grabbing your boyfriend by his shoulder and pushing him in the direction of the black van as you stepped back with a wave.

“I love you!” You called out with a laugh as Jimin shoved him in the car, head first.

“Love y-ah hyung-love you too!” His voice muffled just in time for the door to slide close.

+ + +

The large house was already giant by normal standards for two people but when it was just you most of the year - it was lonely.

Jeongguk had purchased the place long before the two of you had discussed any plans of moving in together. When you finally did, it was his old apartment. He was willing to keep it for you in worry of the house being too large for you alone while he was in the military. But there had been so much work and money gone into the renovations of the house that you refused him.

You’ve been living in the black, large modern mansion alone for six months now and were more than ready to welcome him home.

The outside was completely tinted to the outside world. There were no windows to see, only dark smooth paneled walls. But from the inside it was as bright as any normal window.

Jeongguk had done the basement levels at his spots. Typical mancave in his style - but surprised the breath out of you with the main living spaces being decorated exactly to your liking.

Your own apartment before selling had been your safe space. Brown, beige earthy tones with calming green walls, vintage detailings and dark wooden cabinets - the same theme continuing throughout. He had followed the exact theme in all the main living spaces. A bright contrast to the black outside and his two basement levels.

Jeon Jeongguk was willing to change the entire style to a home he had purchased for millions just for your own comfortability while he was gone.

And you thought you couldn’t love this man more.

The kitchen fridge was full of food his parents had prepared for you before they left back to the hotel for the evening. You had cleaned the entire space just for something to do, as the social media was constantly updated with the boys’ arrival at Hybe.

You had barely managed to clean the countertop and finish putting all the leftovers back into the fridge when the door lock beeped open to your confusion, and Jeongguk walked in hours earlier than you expected.

The bright grin on your face was automatic at this point whenever you saw him.

He had taken off the military jacket and beret, his shorter hair reminding you of the earlier days of his career. The standard black tee underneath fit him perfectly against his body as he kicked off his combat boots.

“Hey love, there’s a bunch of food if you’re hu-” Your words turned into a startled gasp when he didn’t stop his approach and hoisted you up and away, your ass found the cold surface of the island table.

Within the blink of an eye, he bent down and pushed open your knees.

“G-guk?” Your stutter was laced with shock as your wide eyes took in the t-shirt stretching over his broad shoulders and clinging to the tapered waist that often drove you feral, tucked into a pair of jeans he had changed into as his dark hair was in your vision.

When Jeongguk finally looked up, you swore to whatever deity out there, the sound coming out of you resembled that of a whine and whimper combined.

He was looking…quite frankly starving. But certainly not for the food in the fridge.

His pupils were so blown out you could hardly see the brown in them, crinkled, gentle eyes usually smiling at you were now hooded with such pulsing desire you had to swallow nervously before you stopped breathing altogether.

Fuck, your boyfriend was horny to the goddamned heavens, and you weren’t sure what had driven him to that state in between the time from the base to HYBE. You hadn’t seen this side of him for a while.

“Baby, I need you.”

His voice was killing you. All grating against his throat, but breathless at the same time. “Please let me have you, huh?” He started peppering kisses on your bare knee, being only dressed in an oversized t-shirt and designated grandma panties as your usual home attire for comfort.

“I need you so bad right now, please. Will you let me have you?”

Fucking hell. Jeongguk had it so bad he had resorted to begging.

This meant that whatever he had planned was about to be intense - maybe to the point it would leave you with tears streaming down your face and sore legs for days. He would usually talk to you about this beforehand due to the after-effects of it, a roleplay almost. But the fact remained; he was on his knees, begging for a taste of you.

And it was something you could hardly resist. A rare sight of him to see in the bedroom. Selfishly, you couldn’t help but crave to see more of it.

His kisses slowed into caresses, tracing the ticklish skin behind your knees. His tongue followed — warm, deliberate — up the inside of your thighs. You shuddered.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Jeongguk continued to promise, his breath warm against your skin. “You won’t regret it, please…”

It felt like you had summoned the devil of sin himself, tempting you for a taste.

“Fuck Guk,” You groaned in near indecisiveness but as you looked back down on him, your thread of control so near snapping “Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a long day.”

“I missed you more.” He hummed. “Never too tired for you.”

You shivered.

“Guk…baby…I…fine-”

Your words were hardly out before he stood, nearly flinging you back on the -thankfully - clean counter, as he hovered over you all large and deliciously flushed skin. His lips found yours so desperately you clung to his hair almost painfully with his weight pushing you down and he kissed you like someone who had been gone for years and just got his first taste of fresh water.

His moan was uncontrollable, devouring you, and you almost struggled to keep up. Licking into your mouth, he trapped all your sighs only pressing closer, his bulge prominent against the layers of his jeans, and pressing your hips down as your back arched to accommodate him better. His kisses trailed from your lips down to the curve of your neck, a sensitive area that always set you off as he nipped against the skin followed by the wet presses of his lips.

“Guk…” Your whisper was shaking as he continued to map out your skin, his sneaky hands running up the sides of your thighs until they reached the band of your underwear and slowly pulled them off while maneuvering around your trapped body beneath him to never lose contact.

“Need to taste you,” He murmured before the heat of his clothes disappeared and he got back down on his feet, pulling you to the edge of the counter and sinking to his knees.

Fuck.

With you bare for him below, there was barely time to mentally prepare as your eyes shuttered close at the feeling of his mouth tracing the insides of your thighs, his breath coming closer towards where your body was begging him to go.

His kiss against your mound caused a soft breath of anticipation to escape. Mouthing his way further down as goosebumps covered your skin, his tongue firmly licked a strip up between your spread lower lips held open by his fingers.

Oh my God, like you missed this.

“Hnng!” A heldback grunt from your part, hand flying down to grip his strands in a tight grip as Jeongguk groaned in pleasure at the sting of it, his vigour increasing, pulling your thighs to rest over his shoulders so he was thoroughly at your mercy - head trapped between your thighs and nose buried in your soaking wet pussy.

His tongue was unrelenting in nearly mapping you out, firm well-placed strokes with the pulsing heat in you rising for every second by his ministrations. Back arching, your moan encouraged him on as your fingers tightened even further and pulled him tauter against you as if that was possible.

His grunt was not lost on you, but his eagerness to eat you out like a dessert didn’t ease, and you knew he was in fucking paradise down there.

There was no difficulty for him to find your clit after the years he had spent memorizing all the sensitive crooks and crannies of your body. He gave it a teasing nip that made your breath hitch, before fully wrapping his lips around the area and sucking it into his mouth, your breath completely stopping and stuttering out in a broken moan which ended in a near whimper.

The dampness running down between your inner thighs was hard to ignore from how horny you were as you urged him on.

Almost there.

“More baby, please more,” You whispered urgently. “I’m almost there.”

Jeongguk hummed, never losing his rhythm as he urged your hips to grind against his face. You hardly need more encouragement, your upcoming release was tethering on the edge, everything was starting to tense as you desperately chased after it. Your other hand was twitching to slide down your body and assist him in finishing it, but Jeonggukk knew you well enough. His hand parallel to yours coming up to intertwine your fingers, pinning it beside your hip bone and offering another anchor beside his hair.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.” You didn’t know who you were begging, your voice a desperate mutter.

Your hips rose from the counter quicker, thighs tensing further as your eyes squeezed shut with a whine stuck in your throat.

God, please. Just a little more.

You hardly noticed as he released his grip, hand sneaking back down your body to join his mouth.

Somewhere in your spinning mind, you realized he knew exactly what you needed even when you couldn’t ask for it, and you felt two fingers joining his tongue as he pumped them in and out firmly but surely.

Your moans stuttered at each movement until Jeongguk curled them gently inside you while sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. The pressure exploded — heat bursting low in your belly as you cried out, clenching tight around his fingers. His groan vibrated against your skin, lips still wrapped around you, refusing to let go.

Your moan was drawn out, legs trapping your boyfriend’s head with no way to go but forcing him to continue, drawing out your pleasure and he did not complain. Slowly mouthing at your nub as your chest heaved and slowed down.

His mouth was still on you when your body finally stopped twitching, your hips slowly relaxing from the death grip you had on his face. He pulled back with a deep inhale, his lips wet and shiny, chin slick with you and so goddamn beautiful you forgot how to breathe for a second.

You should’ve felt embarrassed by how wrecked you were on the kitchen counter. But all you could think about was how much you needed him now.

Fully. Desperately. And you were willing to take it.

Jeongguk’s chest was heaving, the muscles in his neck straining with the effort it took not to grab you and fuck you through the marble. His pupils still blown wide, skin flushed up to his ears. His mouth hung open as he caught his breath, blinking up at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

You didn’t let him get a word out.

“Get up here,” you whispered, yanking his t-shirt up over his head as he stood. His dog tags clinked softly against his chest, and you leaned forward to mouth at the cold metal. “Pants off. Now.”

He obeyed without hesitation, stumbling back a few steps to kick his jeans and underwear down in one desperate motion. His cock slapped against his stomach, already painfully hard and leaking.

You stared at it, tongue swiping over your lips.

Jeongguk groaned. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that—”

You were already on your knees before he finished the sentence.

He barely had time to blink before you licked a slow, deliberate stripe from the base to the tip. His whole body shivered. Your nails dug into the backs of his thighs as you sucked the head into your mouth and his hand shot out to grab the edge of the counter for support.

“B-baby,” he stammered. “I’m gonna—shit—don’t tease me.”

But of course, you teased him.

Letting your tongue trace circles over the tip, kitten licks that made his hips jerk and a string of half-sobs fall from his lips. You glanced up through your lashes and caught the look on his face—eyes scrunched shut, brows pinched together, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to keep from falling apart completely.

“You’re shaking,” you murmured, pulling off him with a wicked smile. “That bad already?”

His hand tangled in your hair like he didn’t know whether to pull you back or push you down. “God… I need it. Been thinking about your mouth for three fucking months.”

That did something to you. You opened that very mouth and swallowed him halfway in one go, your lips stretched tight, tongue pressed flat underneath.

Jeongguk let out a strangled moan, both hands flying into your hair now as he struggled to keep his balance.

You bobbed your head slowly, letting him feel every inch. His muscled thighs trembled, his moans were getting louder, higher. He was so close already, and you could tell he was trying his best to hold it back.

But you didn’t let up.

You sucked him in deeper, until the head brushed the back of your throat. You held there, relaxed your jaw and swallowed around him just once. Jeongguk choked on a cry, bucking into your mouth before he forced himself still.

“Fuck—fuckfuckfuck—baby, I can’t—”

You pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at him with spit-slick lips and narrowed eyes. “You’re not coming yet.”

Jeongguk whimpered.

You stood slowly, licking the taste of him from your mouth, and took his hand in yours. “Bend me over the counter.”

He looked like he might actually drop to his knees again, but instead he followed you like a man possessed, crowding into your space until your back hit the edge.

His hand curled around the back of your neck to kiss you like it was the last time he’d ever be allowed. All wet desperation tinged with the touch of a starved man.

You turned around and leaned over the cold counter, spreading your legs, presenting yourself, not needing to say a word.

The sound Jeongguk let out wasn’t human. His hands gripped your hips so tight you might bruise, but you didn’t care.

The blunt head of his cock pressed against your entrance, and your whole body tensed in anticipation.

“Please,” he said again, like a prayer.

You tilted your hips back. “Then fuck me.”

His cock slid into you in one slow, deep thrust, and you nearly collapsed onto the counter right then. The stretch was overwhelming after so long, your slick walls fluttering around him instinctively, and Jeongguk groaned so loud it echoed through the kitchen.

“Fuck—” he gasped, folding over your back and pressing his chest flush against you. “So fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”

You arched into him, your nails digging into the marble, hips pushing back for more. “I was,” you whispered, voice cracking with how much you needed him. “Now move.”

Jeongguk didn't need to be told twice. He pulled out slowly, then slammed back in hard enough for you to know there were gonna be bruises there in the morning. His rhythm was rough from the start, all pent-up frustration and need, his hands gripping your hips like he was terrified you’d disappear again.

Your moans mixed with his—shameless, echoing off the dark walls, a fever dream of skin and sweat and sound. You didn’t care if the entire neighborhood heard. He had you bent over the kitchen counter like it was the only place on Earth, his body relentless against yours, each thrust punishing and perfect.

He was panting now, babbling against your shoulder.

“So good… god, I missed you… missed this pussy—shit—you’re clenching so hard around me. Fuck, I’m not gonna last.”

You turned your head just enough to rasp out, “The fuck me like you mean it.”

Jeongguk pulled out so fast you gasped at the sudden emptiness, and then he was guiding you down, both of you sinking to the floor in a mess of limbs and sweat. You ended up straddling him, his cock pressed against your slick heat, throbbing and begging for attention.

But you didn’t rush it. You settled into his lap and dragged your hips forward just enough to make him feel the slide of your folds against his length.

His head dropped back with a tortured moan.

“Y/N please,” he begged, voice breaking. “Ride me. I need it. I need you.”

You leaned forward, chest flush to his, your lips brushing over his cheek, his jaw, before whispering right into his ear:

“You gonna be good for me?”

He nodded frantically, fists already curling into the fabric bunched at your waist.

“You gonna let me fuck you how I want?”

“Yes—yes, please—I’ll be good, just want you, don’t tease—”

You sank down on him in one slow motion, taking every inch until he was buried to the hilt.

Jeongguk’s entire body jerked beneath you, mouth falling open with a sound that was closer to a sob than a moan. You didn’t move right away—just stayed there, full and throbbing and so hot you were shaking.

His hands gripped your waist, trying to urge you into motion, but you smacked one away with a glare and a small smirk. “Patience.”

“Fuck—you’re killing me,” he whimpered, voice wrecked.

You started rolling your hips slowly, grinding in tight circles instead of bouncing, forcing him to feel every second of it.

His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling. “I can’t—gonna come like this if you keep doing that—”

“That’s the point,” you whispered, clenching around him purposefully.

He cried out.

You leaned forward, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them above his head against the cold tile floor, his dog tags swinging wildly between you.

“Look at me when you come,” you whispered, nose brushing his. “And don’t come until I say.”

He whined—whined—beneath you, back arching into your body. “I’ll try—I swear—I’ll try…”

Your pace picked up, the sounds of skin on skin and wet, slick thrusts filling the space like music, his name falling from your lips like prayer.

You were close again. So close. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, the way his abs trembled under your hands, how he was holding onto the edge of his orgasm like his life depended on it.

“You wanna come, baby?” you panted against his mouth.

“Yes, baby — so much…”

“Then beg.”

“Please, please, fuck—I missed you so much—please let me come—need to come inside you—need to feel it—been dreaming of this for months, please—!”

You dropped your head to his, panting into his mouth, and whispered, “Come for me.”

The second the words left your mouth, Jeongguk’s body seized beneath you like it had been struck by lightning. His back arched, a deep, guttural sound tearing out of him as his release hit.

You didn’t stop moving. Slow, steady rolls of your hips kept him buried deep, made him feel every pulse of pleasure as he came hard inside you.

“F-fuck—fuck, baby, I’m coming. Oh my God,” he choked out, voice breaking as his hands flew to your hips like he needed something to hold onto or he’d fall apart completely.

You could feel the heat of it spreading inside you, the twitch of his cock with every wave of release. His legs trembled under yours, breath shallow and wrecked. You stayed right where you were, clenching just enough to drag it out, watching him unravel in your hands.

You leaned in, brushed your lips over his jaw. “You're okay,” you whispered, your voice calm in contrast to his fraying body. “Just breathe.”

He was still gasping, trying to catch up. His face was flushed, chest damp with sweat, eyes squeezed shut like he didn’t know how to come back down.

You didn’t stop until he asked.

“Too much… I can’t,” he whispered in a croak, almost dazed. “Baby, I need a second.”

You finally stilled. Your hands slid gently up his torso, your body still pressed to his, his cock softening inside you as you settled over him. One of his arms snaked around your waist while the other cupped the back of your head, holding you close. Like he needed you to anchor him in place.

You let him.

Neither of you spoke for a while. The kitchen was quiet except for the slow, uneven sound of your breathing. His heartbeat thudded beneath your cheek, slowly returning to normal. You pressed a soft kiss to the center of his chest.

Jeongguk turned his head, lips grazing your hair.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, voice raw. “I forgot how good that feels.”

You giggled against his skin. “That’s what happens when you hold it in for three months.”

He gave a low, shaky laugh. “Remind me to never do that again.”

“I will. Every single day.”

His smile turned quieter. He brushed his lips against your temple like he didn’t want to let go of you, even for a second.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered. “Even more than I thought.”

“I know,” you whispered back, fingers curling gently into his hair. “I missed you too.”

He held you tighter.

“I love you.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I love you more.”

You felt him shift beneath you. His hands skimmed down your sides, warm and a little shaky. “Let me take care of you.”

His eyes were clearer, losing the desperation you’ve been drawing out of him, suddenly feeling much larger over you and your stomach fluttered at his ability to change in a split second.

You blinked. “You already did.”

“Not done.” Ah shit.

Before you could answer, Jeongguk gently moved you, lifting you off him just enough to slide out and lay you down on your back. His touch was delicate, the way he handled you soft enough to make your chest ache. He knelt between your legs, eyes meeting yours with something too tender to be hunger. Something reverent.

You opened your mouth to protest—you were spent, overstimulated—but he kissed the inside of your thigh before you could speak.

“I’ll be gentle.” And he was.

There was no rush. No urgency. Just his mouth on you, slow and warm, and the quiet sounds of his breath against your skin. He tasted you with soft kisses, his tongue moving in steady circles that made your toes curl before your mind could even catch up.

“Still so wet,” he murmured, kissing your center like he was savoring the last taste of something sacred. “So fucking perfect.”

Your hand slid into his hair again, not to guide him—just to feel him there.

Jeongguk didn’t break eye contact, even as his mouth worked you open again. You felt the first swell of pleasure bloom between your thighs like the beginning of a storm. Not fast, not sharp—just heat, rising with every slow lick of his tongue and soft graze of his lips.

It built inside you gradually, unbearably tender. The muscles in your stomach tensed. Your thighs trembled, but you didn’t close them around his head this time. You just let it happen, let him love you the way he needed to.

“Guk,” you breathed, voice trembling. “It’s too much.”

“You can take it,” his lips brushing against your skin like a caress. “You always do.”

And then he sucked your clit gently into his mouth, and your whole body locked up with a soft cry.

Your orgasm rolled through you like a tide. No peak. No drop. Just steady waves that stole the air from your lungs and made your fingers clench uselessly in his hair. You couldn’t think. Could barely move. You only knew the warmth, the ache, the way your heart pulsed with every slow curl of his tongue.

You came with his name on your lips again, quieter this time, breathless.

Only when you were still, limp and glowing, did he kiss your inner thigh and rest his forehead against your skin for a moment, catching his breath.

Then he moved back up your body and pulled you into his arms without a word. You curled against him instantly, your leg sliding over his hip as he tucked you under his chin. His hand rubbed lazy circles into your back while the other threaded gently into your hair.

“I needed that,” Jeongguk admitted with a sigh, as both of you laughed.

You smiled, lips brushing his collarbone. “Me too.”

For a while, you just laid there on the kitchen floor, tangled together in sweat and silence. The world could wait.

Eventually, Jeongguk’s voice broke the quiet.

“Can we stay here a little longer?”

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“We’ve got time now.”

And in that soft stillness, held in his arms with nothing else pulling you away, you knew it was finally true.

I FINALLY FINISHED (figuratively)

Believe it or not, smut is some of the most difficult thing to write out there without making it sound tacky or cringy, and I spend more time on that than actual emotional scenes 😭

#bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #kpop smut #jungkook idol au #bts idol au #bangtanfanfiction #jungkook x reader #established relationship #soft dom jungkook #subby jungkook #romantic smut #reader insert

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writeonwhiskey · 3 days ago

Text

summer in seoul: ch 13 (18+)

a/n: thank you for your patience on this. i've compelted act like you love me and can now fully focus on this fic. i had up to chapter 12 written from 2023, but now working on completing this so updates may take longer in between. also i'm done adding the timestamps to their text messages, too much continuity to keep up with 😂 enjoy! word count: 3.2k

You’ve already had breakfast and gotten settled in with a new potential manuscript when you receive a text from Chris. It’s a picture of him on the plane. He’s wearing a black Givenchy hat, a black hoodie, and a black face mask as per usual. The icing on the cake, though, is him winking at you.

The smile that spreads across your face is immediate. For a second, you forget about the parameters surrounding the two of you and react with a heart emoji. But seeing the glowing red symbol of love makes you second guess that choice.

It’s too much, isn’t it?

You replace it with a thumbs up.

Then cringe. That’s somehow even worse.

Because nothing says ‘I like fucking you but...what are we?’ like an awkward yellow hand.

You attempt to cover your blunder with a text.

You Have a safe flight. Talk soon xx

That’s better. Kind of.

It’s barely been two weeks since you met Chris, yet somehow he’s managed to carve out more space in your head than anyone has in years. Sure, the sex is part of it—it’s impossible not to think about. But it’s also the way he looks at you when you laugh. The way he listens, the way he’s opened up to you. The way it feels so easy to be with him.

However, now that you know who he really is—what he really does—you can’t dodge the reality of that.

Your phone buzzes again.

Hwarang I got in-flight wifi, silly. I’m gonna bother you the entire flight.

You I’m trying to read.

Hwarang Anything good?

You Nothing I can share with you. You have your work secrets, and I have mine.

Hwarang Oof. Guess you don’t want to know where I’m flying to then?

You Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me.

Hwarang 🙁

What starts as quick responses stretches into two full hours—bursts of texts, his photos from the plane (clouds, his coffee, the boys in the seats next to him), and your teasing commentary on each.

When his messages finally slow, you set your phone aside and bring your laptop back to your lap. You force yourself back into work mode and actually manage to finally get some reading done.

By the time you’ve had dinner, your phone buzzes again. But it’s not a text this time, Chris is calling.

You clear your throat before answering. “Hey.”

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” His voice is low and teasing.

“It’s barely nine o’clock,” you laugh. “Do I sound like I’m asleep?”

“A little.”

You roll your eyes. “How was your day in your mystery location?”

“Unbearably hot. I might come back to Seoul as nothing more than a puddle of sweat, I fear.”

“Tragic.”

“Thank you for your sympathy,” he deadpans. “What you doin’?”

“Just had dinner, working…and pretending I don’t have twelve tabs open looking up things to do in Seoul.”

“That’s my job,” he says. “You’re stealing my thing.”

“I don’t see you here doing it,” you tease.

“I’m literally calling from a different country. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Barely. What time is it for you?”

“Oh…so you do want to know where I am?”

“No…I want to make sure you’re getting adequate sleep,” you shrug.

“Just ask me where I am.”

“Why would I do that when I have the world wide web at my fingertips?”

“So you’ve been looking me up?”

You set yourself up for that one. The silence as you think of an answer stretches too long.

He laughs. “It’s okay. What did you watch?”

You hesitate to even admit it. “Something called a ‘fancam’? I don’t know…”

“Mine or one of the kids?”

“That’s a silly question.”

“I dunno. They’re good-looking men.”

“It was yours, Chris. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, actually.”

You talk for a little longer and your smile lingers even after the call ends.

The following day, July 7th, Chris texts you before your alarm even goes off.

Hwarang Morning. Did you sleep on my side?

You You have no claim to this bed, sir.

The conversation carries through your entire morning routine of brushing your teeth and choosing which outfit to wear to the café downstairs. You send him the options, laid out on the bed, to which he says he’d rather see how they look on you before deciding. And you concede, trying on each and sending him a picture. He opts on the second choice—ripped jeans and a comfy top.

That night, he calls again. You’re already lying in bed, hair still damp from your shower, manuscript notes scattered across the comforter.

“You sound tired,” you say after he yawns mid-sentence.

“I am tired,” he murmurs. “But if I fall asleep without hearing you say something sarcastic, my day feels incomplete.”

“Hmm. You’re my favorite person ever.”

“Perfect,” he laughs. “Rapid-fire of favorites. Favorite color?”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t overthink it.”

“Blue.”

“Basic.”

“Shut up. Yours?”

“Black, obviously.”

“That’s the literal absence of color, it doesn’t get more basic than that,” you retort. “Favorite movie?”

“I can’t pick just one, there’s—”

“Don’t overthink it,” you cut him off with his own words.

“Fine. Interstellar. Or Deadpool. Or—”

“That’s more than one!” you laugh.

“I said I couldn’t pick one!”

The game goes on—favorite foods, places you want to visit, the song you’d put on during a summer drive. He admits he hasn’t seen much of the world outside of tour stops. You tell him about the tiny bookstore you’ve loved since childhood and how devastated you were when it closed.

“Okay, last one. Favorite thing you’ve learned about me so far?” he asks.

“I don’t know that I have one favorite thing. Everything about you is interesting, honestly. But…maybe how caring you are.” He hums in response. "You?"

“This is just an assumption…not confirmed yet but, y/n, I think you could kick my ass if you wanted to.”

You burst into laughter. “What? Why do you think that?”

He clicks his tongue. “It’s just a feeling. Like there’s something feisty brimming beneath the surface with you, just waiting to come out.”

“That’s what fucking is for. No violence needed.”

He sighs. “I wouldn’t say no to that right now.”

You go quiet, heart thudding at the thought of it.

Your texting continues most of the following day with the same playful vibe—updates about meals, your work progress, his exhaustion from whatever the hell he’s doing.

That night, though, there’s no call.

Hwarang I’m dead on my feet. Talk tomorrow?

You stare at the message longer than you mean to. It’s the first night he hasn’t called since he left. You didn’t realize how much you were expecting it, how much the constant contact over the past few days has meant.

You Get some rest.

Hwarang Goodnight, y/n.

You set your phone on the nightstand and that’s when it hits you. Chris has been so present while away. More than when he was in Seoul. More than you expected.

You wake the next morning feeling…off. There’s a faint ache in your chest, one that you refuse to associate with how accustom you got to ending the night with his voice in your ear.

You decide to text him first today.

You Hope you got some sleep.

It’s nearing the middle of the afternoon when he replies.

Hwarang I did. Filming wrapped so late barely had time to shower before I passed out

You You had time to wash your body? What a luxury.

Hwarang Don’t act like you don’t miss it

You Washing your body? Or just your body in general?

Hwarang Careful. You start that, I’m not stopping it.

You know he’s being playful, but the spark is instant. You spend most of the day letting the tension build over texts like that. Teasing, flirty little jabs.

Chris goes radio silent for a good chunk of the afternoon but finally texts you as the clock approaches midnight.

Hwarang You awake?

You Barely. Wyd?

Hwarang Just wrapped the shoot heading back now So don’t fall asleep yet

You Why not?

Hwarang Because.

You You better hurry. (Not really, please be safe)

You readjust yourself in bed, sitting up against the pillows instead of laying down in hopes it will keep you up. You turn the volume on the TV to a ridiculous level and scroll on your phone while you wait.

Hwarang Still up?

You 😴

Your phone rings and you answer immediately. His low chuckle is the first thing you hear.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, lowering the TV volume.

“You answered on the first ring,” he murmurs, voice soft and low in your ear.

You bite back a smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late. How was your day?”

“It was good. Finished reading another manuscript…it seems promising. You?”

He yawns. “Long. Really fucking long. We’re filming content that won’t even be released until sometime next year.”

“You should probably get some sleep, then. Why’d you call?”

“To hear your voice.”

You ignore the flutter in your chest and speak as sternly as you can manage, “Alright, you’ve heard it. Now go to bed.”

“You gonna hang up on me or something?”

Silence stretches as the already brewing playful tension crescendos.

“Okay then,” he continues. “That settles it. You miss me, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you’re wearing.”

You pause, your cheeks heating. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish I was there, or you were here.”

You hesitate, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. “A tank top and underwear.”

“What kind?

“Boy shorts.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

He exhales slowly. “Fuck. Now I’m picturing it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You started this—it’s too late now. What are you wearing?” you counter.

“Just a towel.”

You imagine him rushing to his phone after showering, water still dripping from his hair, wearing nothing but a towel. The thought makes your thighs press together.

He’s silent for a moment after that and you hear sheets ruffling.

“FaceTime me.”

Your eyes widen. “Chris—”

“Please?” he gently asks.

You bring the phone in front of your face and hit the video button. His face fills your screen instantly—damp curls, tired eyes, but grinning when he sees you. He’s holding the phone at an angle that reveals just enough of his bare shoulders to tease you.

“There you are,” he says quietly.

You swallow, suddenly shy. “Please excuse the state of all this,” you say, gesturing to your face.

“Stop,” he says, no trace of teasing in his tone. “You go to sleep and wake up looking beautiful, y/n. I’m convinced it’s some sort of witchcraft.”

You fight another smile. “Do you have a room to yourself?”

“Yeah,” he replies, flipping the camera briefly to show the empty hotel room before turning it back. He’s smirking now. “Why?”

“Just wondering…”

He extends his arm, lowering the camera slightly, showing more of his torso.

“Is this why?”

“You’re the one who wanted to FaceTime,” you deflect, eyes flickering from his chest to his eyes. “But, I am curious…what would we be doing if I was there?”

He chuckles. “Well, neither of us would have close on, for starters.”

“Hmmm,” you scrunch your nose playfully. “It’s usually quite cold in hotel rooms. I think I’d leave mine on.”

“I can tell. You’ve got that fucking blanket pulled up to your neck.”

You laugh, pulling it even higher.

“No,” he whines. “Push it down.”

You slowly peel the blanket down to your waist.

“Like this?”

He nods once. “And your tank top.”

You arch an eyebrow. He arches one back.

“I’m already shirtless,” he says simply.

You roll your eyes but tug the straps off your shoulder, lowering the collar beneath your breasts until they spill free over the fabric.

“Fuck, y/n,” his voice cracks a little.

“Now I wish you were here,” you murmur, trailing your fingers across your hardening nipples.

“Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Where you’d want me if I was there.”

Your lift the blanket with one hand to allow some light in, as you angle the phone towards your thighs with the other.

“No, I wanna see all of you.”

“You first,” you challenge, bringing the phone back up.

He smirks like he was hoping you’d say that. “One sec.”

The phone faces the ceiling for a moment and all you can hear is him shuffling stuff around. He then props the phone up and opens the towel. His cock is already hard, and you realize you’ve never missed someone else’s appendage so bad.

He wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking it.

“You’re seriously—”

“Thinking about your mouth?” he interrupts. “How soft your lips feel when you swallow my cock? Yes.”

Your fingers slip into your underwear of their own accord. “Chris—”

“Yeah?”

“Keep talking.”

“Fix that angle for me, baby. Show me all of you.”

The pet name shreds any trace of apprehension that lingers. You set the phone down, shimmying out of your underwear, then angle the camera between your spread thighs. You slip your fingers between your lips, coating them with your juices.

He groans at the sight. “Fuck. Look at you—already so wet for me. I’d slide in so easy right now. No teasing, no waiting.”

You gasp, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

“God, I’d fuck you so deep,” he pants, stroking himself harder. “Hands around your throat. Tell me you wouldn’t love that.”

“Fuck—” you moan, arching against your own hand.

“On your back first, yeah? Then flip you over, smack your ass until you beg me to stop. You’d take it, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

“No, look at me,” he snaps softly. “Eyes on me. Watch me while you touch yourself.”

Your gaze locks on the screen, watching his hand squeezing and stroking his cock, his abs tightening with every stroke.

“You look so fucking good. Wish I could taste you. Feel your pussy clench around my tongue.”

“Please, Chris,” you moan, bringing your other hand up to pinch your nipples.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you miss me.”

Your hand moves faster, breath ragged. “I—fuck—I miss you.”

“Good girl,” he groans, pace quickening as the tip of his cock glistens. “You close?”

“Yes,” you whimper, almost sobbing with need.

“Keep going, baby—keep your eyes on me.”

That word coming out of his mouth again makes you whimper. You do as he said, watching him spiral, watching his mouth fall open as he pants your name.

“Chris, I’m so close.”

“Come with me,” he growls. “Right fucking now.”

Your orgasm hits you hard—hips arching, toes curling, mouth falling open as you moan. He curses, coming apart at the same time, groaning low and deep as cum spills over his fist. The sight of that alone is enough to make you want to get on a plane right now.

When you finally speak, your voice is hoarse. “We’re never talking about this again.”

“Sure,” Chris pants, smirking faintly. “Until next time.”

You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. “Go to sleep.”

“Miss you already,” he murmurs, and hangs up before you can respond.

On July 10th, you’re up early, laptop propped on the hotel desk, notes scattered everywhere. The manuscript you’ve been reading kept you up until 2 a.m., and the dark circles under your eyes feel like war wounds.

The video call connects; and her face fills the screen. You smile, your professional mask slipping easily into place. The conversation flows easily enough. You praise her for the work she’s written, offer feedback, discuss revisions and character arcs. She’s receptive and collaborative. By the end, you’re giddy with the satisfaction that comes from a job well done.

You close the laptop and immediately reach for your phone, thumb hovering over Chris’s name before you catch yourself. He’s probably busy. And what would you even say? 'Hey, just wrapped up work stuff, miss you.'

Absolutely not. Last night’s admission was a heat of the moment thing.

You toss your phone aside and go about your day.

In the afternoon, you enter a quaint, sunlit café to meet Moira. This meeting is more personal, just the way she likes it. She finalizes a few non-negotiables of the contract, and you let her know you’ll have the legal team update it a final time before her lawyer arrives next week.

After discussing the business side of things, she actually takes an interest in how you’ve been spending your time here.

“It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you agree. “I’ve met some really nice locals, too.”

“Anyone special?” she teases, tapping your hand on the table lightly.

“Maybe. Probably not. I don’t know, honestly.”

“You have some time to figure it out,” she reassures you. “I came here as a tourist and that was ten years ago. You never know what might happen.”

When you part ways, you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Not only are you accomplishing the job your boss sent you here to do, but also knowing you have the next few days to spend as you please, again.

Your stomach growls—the finger food in the café did not satiate your hunger—but when you pull out your phone to find a restaurant, a new message lights up the screen.

Hwarang Pack a bag. 4 days. Mostly comfy stuff, but something nice, too.

You Excuse me?

Hwarang Airport in 2 hours.

You Chris…what is happening? Where are we going?

Hwarang Just trust me And bring a swimsuit Car will be there in an hour

Your heart leaps. He didn’t mention anything about this, of course. From his hints the other day, you couldn't have fathomed he was planning an entire fucking trip.

Two hours isn’t anywhere near enough time—and you certainly didn’t pack a swimsuit for a work trip. But you sprint back to your hotel anyway, throwing clothes and toiletries into your carry-on with reckless abandon.

You don’t have time to look for a swimsuit, though. Hopefully you can get one wherever the hell it is you’re going.

The driver takes you to the airport and you’re practically vibrating with excitement and nerves when it pulls up at a private terminal. You're in the midst of wondering if this is where Chris and the boys have to catch their flights for security purposes when you see him.

Baseball cap low, hoodie covering his head, but it doesn’t matter at this point. You’d recognize him anywhere. He’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t just upend your entire day.

You take the handle of your suitcase from the driver and thank him, before wheeling it over towards Chris. He looks up as you approach and that grin you love spreads across his face.

You want to hit him and kiss him all at once. “You’re kidnapping me?”

“Technically, I invited you. You said yes by showing up.”

He grabs your bag before you can argue, lacing your free hand with his as he leads you toward the sleek private jet. You freeze.

“This…is for us? We can’t. I can’t.”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Would you rather go back to your hotel room or experience the ride of your life?

Well, fuck. He’s got you there.

a/n: CHRISTOPHER WHERE ARE YOU TAKING US!? hehehe. all i had in mind here was the phone sex initially but there wasn't enough buildup, so i hope you enjoyed all your phone time with Chan this chapter! 💜 thank you for reading! [ read chapter fourteen here ] (coming soon)

taglist: @hanniesbubuwife / @valworld17 / @luckyroll3 / @fancybarbii / @mlink64 / @ehstay / @gncbnahc / @no1likeneo / @beppybeesnuggets / @lattyjiji / @akindaflora / @spookiesakura

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids #skz smut #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader

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queen-of-gotham · 15 hours ago

Text

How would the Naruto guys react if you crocheted them a gift? Let’s see.

Featuring: Naruto, Sasuke, Sai, Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, Shino, Neji, Lee, Gaara, and Kankuro

Notes from the Batcave: for ✨this✨ request. Enjoy!

Naruto

“For me?” He asks, a bit confused as you hand him the gift, and he grins wide and bright when he pulls the scarf from the bag.

“WOW, this…” his heart is warm because he’s not used to people doing things like this for him.

His fingers run over the soft, woven fibers, looking over the stitches before his blue eyes settle on you, “you made this?”

You nod, “I did. I crocheted it for you.”

He pulls you into a tight hug and kisses your cheek, “Thank you. Seriously.”

Sasuke

He’s suspicious as he takes the crocheted hat from your hands, with the Uchiha clan symbol worked into the project at the front.

He clicks his tongue, “tch.”

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t like, he doesn’t say thank you or make any more comment on it, but you catch him wearing it once it gets cold enough outside, it becomes his go to.

“Oh, so you do like the hat I made you.”

“You… made this yourself?” There’s a quiet pause, “I’ll take care of it.”

Sai

He stares at the plushie you hand him for a long time, turning it over in his hands like he’s trying to find the secrets that live within the stitches. His expression unreadable at first, but then he softens.

“It’s… me?”

You can tell by the way he’s looking at it, and then looks to you that this is something he treasures.

He keeps it in his bag and then shows it to Naruto and Sakura like, “did I show you what she made me? I think… I love it.”

Shikamaru

You spent the better part of three weeks making him the cardigan he’s holding in his hands.

His fingers run over the yarn, taking in how you’d taken the time to study his clans symbol and work it into the cardigan.

“Must have been troublesome.” He offers but his cheeks are tinted pink. “Thank you, this is very… thoughtful.”

It’s soft, and warm, and it smells like you. It becomes his lazy-day go to wear. He wears it while cloud watching and playing Shogi. It’s even better because you made it for him, but he keeps that fact to himself.

Choji

You made this man a whole winter set, hat, gloves, a scarf, all adorned with Akimichi clan symbol.

Choji is so touched. He holds them like some sacred relic and looks at you starry eyed, “you made all this? For me? Really?”

He gives you the best bear hug, with his whole heart, “it’s perfect, thank you.”

Kiba

He’s laughing, in that joyful way he does, loud and grinning ear to ear.

“Babe, it looks like Akamaru!” He tells you showing his dog like you weren’t the one who painstakingly crocheted the plush, taking the time to undo stitches when marking didn’t look right, or the shape was off.

“I know, I made it that way on purpose.”

Kiba stops, looking from his dog to the plush to you, like you just told him something earth shattering, “wait, you made him? That’s awesome!”

He wraps you into a big hug and spins you, “thanks babe. This is great.”

Shino

You made him a cowl with a hood, and hand embrodiered beetles at the base, “because you like to stay covered.”

“You noticed my intrests, thank you.”

Shino isn’t the type to get emotional easily, but he takes your gift VERY seriously.

He keeps it in pristine condition and wears it on colder days in the winter, running his fingers over the little beetles ontop of the crocheted stitches when he thinks about you.

Neji

You crocheted him a scarf with the Hyuga clan flame.

He accepts it with quiet grace, but he’s visibly moved, “I… thank you. This is… more than I expected.”

It becomes his treasured winter accessory. Wears it with traditional Hyuga robes and thinks of you every time.

“You have incredible talent… and kindness.”

Lee

“I made this for you.” You tell him as you hand over the crocheted afghan with a pretty lotus blossom woven into the stitches.

He CRIES. Loudly. Dramatically.

“YOU MADE THIS WITH YOUR OWN YOUTHFUL HANDS?! I AM HONORED BEYOND WORDS!!”

He uses it every night. Every day. Drags it around the house with him. Does not go on missions though because it’s too precious to accidentally ruin.

“This gift shall fuel my training tenfold! You are my muse!”

Gaara

You give him a sand colored shawl to wear that you crocheted yourself, a heart hand embroidered into the corner of it. “while you work, I know your office gets cold.”

He just… stares at it. You think you’ve made a mistake. But then, He walks over and very gently hugs you.

“I… don’t know what to say. But I’ll keep it. Always.”

Gaara treasures anything handmade. He folds it neatly, places it in a drawer in his office, and wears it if Kazekage responsibilities becomes overwhelming. You ground him.

Kankuro

You took the time to crochet him a cat-eared beanie. It fit hit style you felt like and when you give it to him there’s another surprise tucked inside it.

“Yo, babe… you made this?” He tries to act cool, flipping it around in his hands. He’s fighting a grin. He favors to put it on and a small crow amiguri falls out. He fumbles, but manages to catch the surprise item before it hits the ground.

He’s staring wide eyed, jaw slack as he observes the mini-Crow. “… no way, you even got his faceplate details right.”

He turns away a little so you don’t see the smile tugging at his mouth. The beanie is permanently part of his wardrobe now. If anyone compliments it, he casually drops, “Yeah, my girl made it. No big deal.”

But internally? Screaming.

“Thanks, babe. Seriously… this is so cool. You always think of the coolest shit.”

And he puts the little Crow plush in his room, right next to his tools, like it’s watching over his workshop.

✨Join The Taglist!✨

Taglist: @ramielll @xdrakesboyfriend

🍥Naruto Masterlist🍥 🦇Return to the Batcave🦇

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woundedsoul12 · 2 days ago

Text

Tell me Tuesday

(But it's Thursday)

Rules: Tell me about your writing! Pick a scene/ chapter from one of your fics (or I'll suggest one! and add any commentary you feel like. Why that line? How come this plot twist? What does the eyebrow waggle MEAN?!?! I want the dirt and I can only smash my face up against the glass of your stories so hard before start to leave smudges.

Thanks for the game @adejareve and for the tags @chaosherald @dags-over-caravans and @blackwall-my-tiny-husband

I wasn't gonna play because I have too many works and no one wants to know what happens in my brain but whatever I will try to choose one and do this (or if someone wants to request one for the future whatever). Not tagging anyone cuz I'm late to the party

So Anyway let's go back in time to New Friendships and Insights. This is one of my favorite things I have written. Mostly because platonic Harding rots my brain. In my HC Harding has to be Rooks BFF they spend a YEAR together

Instead he focuses on his companion. Harding eyeing him wearily. Hand twitching occasionally, as if she would reach for her bow at the slightest indication of trouble from him. Ah, the normal response. He muses to himself. Rook keeps saying it's only been a few days. People will get used to Lucanis’ dual nature.

This is set right after the Ossuary. We show not only does Harding not trust Lucanis but also Lucanis is self depreciating and thinks of himself as a monster who deserves it

And he wonders if it's true. Harding does seem to flinch less often. Her shoulders holding less tension than previous days. He notes the arrow she usually reserves for him is curiously missing from her quiver as she allows her back to be turned to him. But the man hardly doubts much will change. He's an abomination now. He wants to laugh at the irony of the name Demon of Vyrantium. But he doesn't.

But we see attitudes starting to shift. Also I'm sorry but his name is hilariously ironic

“So the usual?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. Harding simply nods. Though he notes the slightest smile on her lips as she samples her rich chocolate drink. Savoring its flavor as he busies himself with her two eggs hard fried and ham. And dry toast. He's offered to make her biscuits but she says her ma made toast and that's what she wants. He's appreciative for that little insight about her. Letting the barest hint of her true nature shine through. A touch of trust in him.

He's getting to know them. And they are getting to know and trust him.

At the mention of the Qunari, Spite settles onto the bench near Harding and listens intently. Only Rook can have that effect on the demon, and Lucanis tries not to think too hard on it. For their leader has a similar effect on him.

This is a Spookanis so have to casually bring it up

“Yes. Neve told me the story of the ritual gone wrong.” He has worked himself into a corner. Talking was never his specialty. He needs to think of something. Ask about Bad Hat and Rook. Too close. Thankfully, Spite saves the day.

I will always take every opportunity for Spite to call Neve Bad Hat

“I know the look you give him. Inquisitor Trevelyan used to look at Varric like that. And she used to ask me questions about him for hours.” At the mention of her departed friend, her face falls for the briefest moment. But she recovers quickly before continuing. “It's obvious, you know. And maybe I'm just a romantic at heart, but I would see my two friends happy if possible.” He can't help but feel elated at being called her friend. He wonders if she notices the slip, but he knows she means it. Harding is too earnest to say those words without the full weight of her feelings.

Ugh not only is Rook friend but also Lucanis now.

Lucanis and Spite both listen. Until the door creaks open revealing the man in question. Silencing their talks until a later time. He strides over, giving Harding’s braid an affectionate tug that sends her into giggles before folding himself in the large chair at the head of the table. He winks at Lucanis and the Crow's heart does a little flip as he sets about making Rook's favorite omelet. And as the Qunari falls into an easy conversation with the dwarf, Lucanis can't help but be grateful for new friendships and insights.

Rook tugging her braid is everything to me. Shows their closeness. And that wink at Lucanis? Gahhhh

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #da: the veilguard #da4 #dragon age rook #datv rook #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #spookanis #rookanis #spite x rook #rook x spite #spite dellamorte #lucanis dellamorte #lace harding #tell me tuesday

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dsireland86 · 2 days ago

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Hi so i read your boy band birthday post for Matt and it got me thinking about the fact that I’ve been wanting to do a rave themed birthday party this year! 😂😂

SOOOO could you do something similar but for Noah maybe and make it rave themed? 👀🧐😇

Thank you again!!

A rave themed is an awesome idea and I can see this as a Noah thing given a song like "WDYWFM" when played live and the whole light show thing he's got going on up there lol! Thanks for this ask 🫶

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @missduffsblog @athenexe @pipidoll @flowery-mess @bloody-spades

Everything had to be perfect for you. This was your day, and you were worth every single effort that brought Noah stress and the unwelcoming anxiety. You were his girl, the one who pulled him from the mental stress of everything, the one you grounded him and made him feel like he had a purpose in this world. So when Matt told him to relax for the fourth time, Noah lost it, slamming the box full of glow supplies for the glow bar down on the table. "What the fuck, Noah? Really?" "No, you know what's really? The fact that you keep telling me to chill. Stop! Okay. Please. I need this all to be perfect for Y/N. She's been through so much shit this year. She deserves to have a birthday that's exactly how she wants it, okay?" Matt remained silent, eyes eventually dropping to the floor. "You're right. Sorry, man. Just try taking it easy on the slamming and the rushing. You're starting to stress me out." Noah heaved a sigh, giving Matt a quick nod, signaling he understood just as a hand came down softly on his shoulder.

"Relax, Noah. Y/N is going to love everything. You know she will. She's not a hard girl to please." Noah cracked a thin smile and started taking the stuff out of the box. Everything from hats and sunglasses to glow bracelets and glow chains appeared from within the deep brown box. Noah sat them down gently, lining them up on the black tablecloth. "I know she's not. And she never asks for anything. Except this. That's why it needs to be perfect." "And you're sure she doesn't know about it?" Jolly asked from below, on his knees, as he hooked up the last two cords for the laser lighting above. He looked up at Noah with a questioning look to which Noah nodded, assuring his friend. "Positive. I've asked a few of her friends to hold her over a little longer. It should give us enough time to get the rest of this mess together," glancing around the open room. "So, if this is a surprise party, what does y/n think is actually happening tonight?" "Her, me, ice cream, and "Mr. Robot". She said that if she couldn't have a party, then she'd settle for the second best thing. I swear, the longer we're together, the easier she makes pleasing her," Noah answered, shaking his head slightly. "I told you when you first met her that she was a keeper," Matt said, cracking a smile. "Yeah, you did. But if you would've told me then that we'd still be together years later, I would have laughed in your face." "You laughed in my face anyway when I told you she liked you!" Matt reminded the singer.

Noah's smile grew, thinking about all those years ago at a Warped Tour festival. It was the beginning of the end for his heart because months later, he gave it away completely to y/n, and she'd kept it ever since. "Noah!" Noah's eyes quickly snapped up to the sound of Folio's voice. In his arms was a box full of black lights that looked heavy. "Where do you want these?" Folio asked, voice strained. "Uh, over there," Noah replied, pointing towards the kitchen area. Folio nodded, turning around and hurrying off in the direction he was told. Noah sighed, watching Folio heave the heavy box up on the counter, and as his eyes skimmed over the big open room, he wondered how he was going to make the vision of what his girl wanted come to life. "Relax, brother. It'll all work out," Jolly assured him, clasping a hand over his shoulder. Noah muttered a low sound of appreciation. Grabbing the empty box he left on the table and tossing it under the table, the phone in his pocket vibrated against his leg. Reaching in and pulling it out, Noah grinned when he saw who it was from.

I love you, baby. 😘I love you, too, Princess. Did I wish you a happy birthday yet?🥰 Only about a hundred times.Well, here's one more. Happy birthday, beautiful 🥰🥰😘😘 Thanks, babe. See you tonight. Still up for ice cream and Mr. Robot?Absolutely, but after cake and gifts.Ooo... gifts? You mean I got more than one?

Noah bit his cheek, trying to keep from spilling everything and ruining the surprise.

I'm not saying anything else. You'll just have to wait and see when you get home. Noah Sebastian, you're such a mean tease 😞Ohh... 😢 Sorry. Not sorry. 😠... I love you 😘Whatever... ❤️😘

Noah shook his head, huffing a small laugh at y/n's feistiness. He felt less anxious after talking to her, knowing she was going to be happy even if all of the decorating didn't turn out like he'd hoped. "Noah! Let's get these jokers hooked up!" Matt hollered, referring to the uv lights. "Yeah, alright. I'll be right there," Noah hollered back. But seeing his four best friends working hard with him, hoping to make this birthday special for y/n just as much as he wanted to, gave him the right kind of motivation. Pocketing his phone, Noah made his way over to Matt, diving head first into getting the black lights up.

"Jesse, dude! This looks fantastic! Where'd you find this place?" "A girl that works at the café I go to on the weekends recommended it. It's all handmade with homemade ingredients. And the icing is even whipped, just how y/n likes it." Jesse beamed with pride, showing off the birthday cake that was a bright purple with neon pink, blue, and green writing and yellow flowers. He and the rest of the guys of Erra showed up in the nick of time giving Noah extra hands, but glancing at his watching, Noah realized he was running out of time. "Damn, Jesse, nice one," Jolly agreed, patting the guitarist on the back. "Hey, it was his idea, but I'm the one who picked it up and brought it here," JT stated playfully. "Someone's got a hero complex," Matt chuckled. "Doesn't he always," Jesse muttered under his breath. "I heard that," JT grumbled, glaring over at Jesse as he carried the cake over to the food table.

They were halfway done with setting up everything, with only the time-consuming little details left to do: table clothes, balloons, centerpieces, confetti, etc. Noah ran his hands through his hair, glancing at his watch again only to notice he had less than two hours to accomplish everything on his list. His heart started racing as the anxiety settled in. He needed a moment. Running up to his bedroom, Noah slipped into the comfort of the mild darkness, closing the door behind him. With his back pressed against the door, he took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and letting each one out slowly while reminding himself that the party didn't have to be perfect and the expectations pressing in on him were only coming from his own mind. The pressure building was senseless. Noah knew he needed to chill before he ended up ruining everything. Today was about his girl, not him, and that's where his thoughts needed to be. Sending Y/N another heartwarming message, Noah left the comfort of the dark solitude, vowing to put his worries aside and go with what his gut was telling him. The party was going to be great, regardless if everything was perfect or not. As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs and began helping Jesse and Alex lay out the table cloths, a few more close friends of his arrived, offering to help. It was like it was a sign from the universe that everything was going to be just fine, and pretty soon, everything was done. The main lights went out as the lasers and black lights came on, lighting up the bottom level of the house like a huge rave dance floor. Glow sticks were cracked, and the fun began as everyone waited patiently for Y/N to arrive.

"What the hell, Noah. Answer your dang phone," Y/N grumbled, after dialing her boyfriend's number again while climbing into the driver's side of the car.

It was later than she realized, irritated that her best friend, who was also her boss, chose today, of all days, to hold her over and go over the ideas and plans for the following week. It was her birthday, and she had plans. Plans to take a long hot shower, snuggle up her favorite hoodie of Noah's and eat the entire tub of her favorite ice cream while binging "Mr. Robot" from the beginning. That was her idea of the perfect birthday. If she couldn't have the rave themed party she'd always wanted, then she'd settle to the next best thing. Before driving out of the parking garage, Y/N texted Noah since he was refusing to answer his phone.

I called you a few times, but you didn't answer. I'm on the way home. Hope everything is okay. Not really like you not to answer my calls. Love you

Hitting send, she pulled out onto the street, calling Noah one more time, but only getting his voicemail, again. She hung up, growling in frustration that her birthday plans were falling apart. He was probably upset with her, and she couldn't blame him. She told him she'd be home three hours ago and now that the sun was setting, things would have to get cut short because the guys had to be at the studio by six tomorrow morning. Sighing heavily, she made her way through town, turning onto the street she lived on. It was almost dark, and the soft glows from the lights inside the houses she passed filled the darkness like tiny stars. But her house, located at the end of the block, was completely dark, which was normal. Noah and Jolly always kept the lights off, usually too lazy to get up and turn on the many little table lamps located throughout their home.

Slowing down as she got closer, the numerous cars littering her driveway and lawn slightly annoyed her because she wasn't able to park in her usual spot in the garage and go through the side door like always. What was this even about, anyway? And if the house was pitch black, then where was everyone? Settling for a spot on the side of the cul-de-sac, Y/N parked her car and got out, walking up the slight hill and over the narrow stone walkway, to the front door, and when she opened it was greeted by a rush of cool air and darkness, minus the dim glow of lamp in the foyer. But it wasn't the darkness, the solitude, or even all the cars parked outside her house that grabbed her attention. It was the heavy bass of the music coming from the basement that made Y/N's mind unravel with questions.

Noah let the phone in his pocket vibrate against his leg. He hated ignoring Y/N's calls knowing it was probably going to cause her brain to spiral, but he let it go to voicemail, again. She was on her way home and given the time it took to get home, especially with no traffic, she'd be there in less than twenty minutes. Everyone fanned out, escaping to different parts of the lowest level of the house in preparation to surprise the one person they were all there for; Y/N. Noah's heart pounded with excitement against his chest. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, anxiously thinking about how Y/N was going to react to all of this as he waited for any sign of her approach. The party had been months in the making, starting with a small simple plan involving the five of them and Jesse. After that, ideas got bigger and bigger and now he was standing right in the middle of his and his friends' ideas. And all of it was for Y/N.

The basement door slowly opened, giving Noah time to slip back into the shadows and wait. Y/N appeared, cautiously reaching the bottom of the steps while looking around. She looked exhausted but still so beautiful as her eyes wandered the pale, colorful lit room, her face captured in pure amazement. When her back was to him, Noah slipped out from the shadows, placing his hands over her eyes. Y/N gasped as she fell back against his chest, her hands cool to the touch, resting over top of his.

"Guess who," Noah whispered, his lips close to her ear. She smelled heavenly, forcing him to inhale deeply just to another whiff of her scent. "Noah, what's going on?" Y/N asked, her voice shaky. Noah led her out into the middle of the room where everyone started quietly gathering around, ready for the moment Noah motioned for them to go. "So, ice cream and Mr. Robot will have to take a raincheck tonight, princess. You have other plans." "I do?" Noah could hear the smile in her voice, now that the music was a little quieter, thanks to Matt lowering the volume. "Mmm-hmm. You do. You see, me and the guys came up with this really awesome plan a few months ago that I think you're really going to love," Noah stated, kissing the side of her face. "Oh, really?" "Mmm-hmm," Noah replied with a slow hum. "Do you wanna see it?" "I don't know, do I? What if I don't like it?" "Oh, you'll like it, trust me," he said softly. "Okay then. Show me."

Noah removed his hands and the whole room erupted in a chorus of "surprise" the moment Y/N opened them and looked around. Throwing her hands over her mouth, gasping in utter shock, tears filled her eyes as she looked around at all the familiar faces around her, catching the decorations in between. There was so much to look at, to see and admire. It was incredible. It was everything she said she wanted in a rave themed birthday. Noah remembered every detail and the idea of it made Y/N want to cry harder. Turning around and to face him, Noah's hands fell from her hips, slipping around her waist, only to rest on the small of her lower back.

Y/N slid a hand around his neck, pulling him down to meet her kiss. "You did all of this for me," she mumbled against his lips when he refused to let her go. "Mmm-hmm." "Mmm-hmm... can you say anything else other than "mmm-hmm..." she chuckled, placing a hand on Noah's cheek as he leaned in closer while still kissing her. "Uh-uh," he chuckled back, tightening his grip around her waist. Noah rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. "Sorry I'm so late getting home." "It's okay. It's my fault, anyway." "What do you mean," Y/N stared at Noah, puzzled, while he held her body close to his. "I told your boss to keep you over so the guys and I could get all this stuff up before you got home." "You little crap head," Y/N laughed through closed teeth, playfully punching her boyfriend on the chest. "I can't believe you. I can't believe you kept this whole thing so quiet! This is incredible, Noah!" "They all helped," Noah nudged his head to the group of people standing behind her. "Without them, I couldn't have done all of this."

Finally turning around, Y/N thanked everyone, gushing out praises after praises. Jesse and JT came over and embraced her in warm hugs before close friends found their way over and started talking excitedly over one another. Y/N was beyond happy and the expression on her face proved that. She couldn't stop smiling. Glancing over at Noah, her smile only widened, making him feel like the king of the world for pulling off something that made his girl feel so happy. It was Noah's life's mission; to make Y/N happy. To make sure she knew what she meant to him, how much he loved her, and once the birthday song was sung, the cake was cut, and the gifts were open, Noah was positive the last gift in his pocket would prove that.

Standing behind her, holding her close as she opened the last present, Noah slipped his hand into his right pocket and retrieved his gift. It wasn't anything fancy, nothing big and gaudy, yet it represented everything he wanted and needed to say. It spoke loud and would tell the entire world the truth. "Happy birthday, baby," placing a soft kiss on Y/N's temple while tightening his arms around her and giving her a quick squeeze. "Thank you Noah, for everything! This... this was all just so incredible. I can't believe you actually did all of this for me." The two of them laughed as they watched JT and Folio walk past them with huge glowstick glasses and a hat that was lit up by the black lights. "They look like dorks," Noah commented, taking Y/N's left hand, ready to give Y/N his gift. She had no idea what was coming. "Yeah, but they're our dorks," Y/N replied, sighing as she leaned back against Noah's chest. "Tired?" "Hmm, very," she answered sleepily. "Well, don't go to sleep yet. There's one more gift." "Oh yeah? From who," Y/N asked, yawning right in the middle of her sentence. "Me. I haven't given it to you yet." "Oh? But I thought there was one from you and Nick? The wine glass?"

Noah turned her around to face him, looking down and staring her straight in the eyes. The softness Y/N saw in them almost made her melt. "Do you really think I'd let your birthday slip away with just a wine glass as a gift?" Noah's face was twisted in a confused look, brows furrowed together. "Mmm, I don't know. That was a pretty cool glass." Noah rolled his eyes, proof of his annoyance. "I'm kidding. Okay, what is it?" "Nope, you don't want it. It's okay," Noah teased, backing away from her. "No! I was joking! Noah, give me my gift, please, I want it now!" Y/N grabbed his arms, pulling him back into her. The staggered for a moment, forcing Noah to slip his arms back around Y/N to keep his balance. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll behave. Just tell me what it is, or show me, please!"

Noah grinned, leaning down and capturing her lips in a heated kiss. Her hands found the back of his neck and slid up into his hair, grabbing a handful with a slight tug. Noah groaned against her mouth, suddenly having the need to get her entirely alone. "Alright, alright," he protested, pulling away before things got too inappropriate. "Close your eyes." Y/N willingly did so, unable to hide the huge smile gracing her lips. Noah took her hand and slid the ring, exhaling slowly once it was fully on. "Open." When she did, her eyes immediately found the spot where Noah had placed the gift. At first Y/N could only stare at the ring, unable to process what just happened. She touched the silver band, twisting it slowly while admiring the small, simple diamond in the center. It was an engagement ring, which meant only one thing.

"Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you take my last name, be my wife, and make me the happiest man in the world?" The way Noah's voice shook was priceless and when Y/N finally looked up, the only thing she found was Noah's anxious face, eyes glossed over with tears. "Are you sure, Noah? You really want me for the rest of your life?" Noah cupped her face and kissed her quickly.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life," he assured her with a soft smile. "But, only if you want it too. If you don't feel the same, or aren't sure about," but the rest of his words were cut off by Y/N's lips. "Just shut-up," she smiled against his lips. "You already know I'm crazy for you. Yes, I'll marry you, and I'm going to drive you absolutely insane, get on your nerves and smother you with so much freaking love that you'll probably want to admit me into a mental hospital." Noah laughed loudly, tossing his head back."Well, then we'll go together and spend the rest of our lives completely wacked out of our minds at each other's side. How does that sound?" "Like the best plan ever," Y/N agreed, throwing her arms around her future husband's neck. "I love you, Noah, forever and always," she muttered into his neck, leaving behind gentle kisses. "I love you, princess. Happy Birthday."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian oneshots #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction

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starlightshadowsworld · 2 days ago

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Chuuatsu

Just Atsushi and Chuuya in the aftermath of a battle.

Even with his ability Atsushi’s pretty worse for wear. There’s blood staining his white shirt and his steps aren’t quite so steady.

Not to mention the added weight of Chuuya on his back. They ended up needing to use corruption so he’s down for the count. His hat is atop Atsushi’s head instead of his own.

As to let his boyfriend rest his head on his shoulder without his hat falling off.

Each step makes Atsushi’s head spin.

He’s pretty sure he’s got a concussion and well not bothering to tend to his own injuries was admittedly not the best move.

But all of Atsushi’s focus was on Chuuya and thus the meagre first aid kit was used on him. His boyfriend would probably not be happy to hear that.

But Atsushi knew he’d do the same if their positions were reversed.

Besides it was just a bit further.

Just a little bit more.

He tripped.

He would probably have face planted into the dirt if an invisible force didn’t catch him.

And set him back on his feet.

Atsushi blinked and looked down into tired brown eyes. “I…you’re awake” he exclaimed in shock and got a look of amusement in return. It never ceased to amaze him that even in this state that Chuuya’s smirk made his heart flutter.

“I am and what a sight to wake up to.”

He grinned when Atsushi, unable to cover his face with his hands because they were holding Chuuya, blushed bright red before his eyes.

Cute.

Though the amusement faded when Chuuya got a better look at him.

“You look like shit” and though his words may have seemed harsh there was no mistaking the concern. “You clearly haven’t looked in the mirror recently” countered Atsushi back ion kind.

Chuuya snorted before looking around at their surroundings and frowning as he put the pieces together. “

“Take a break.”

“What? But we’re almost-” The words died on his tongue before he’d even begun. Not at the look Chuuya was giving him, how serious and urgent he sounded.

His boyfriend took a deep breath “Love, my brain may be scrambled right now. But if I’m correct you’ve been dragging my arse for a little over an hour.”

His expression softened “you are about to keel over at any moment. I’m not going anywhere, you’ve done a great job you hear me?”

Atsushi wanted to argue but it was at that moment dizziness hit him. He stumbled back before feeling Chuuya’s ability steady him.

Alright fine.

Atsushi gently set Chuuya down on his feet and found himself slumping against a tree. He felt the hat be removed from his head and back to its rightful place.

Before Chuuya curled up beside him.

Their hands clasped together as their heads rested atop each others.

“Just a little rest and then I’ll head back.”

“Ha, sure but this time I’m carrying you.”

“But you can barely stand.”

“Makes too of us then. We can take turns see who passes out first.”

“That…does not seem like a good idea.”

“Yeah neither is walking around while bleeding out and yet here you are.”

“I got us this far.”

Chuuya chuckled “you did so now it’s my turn. Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” Atsushi snorted “sure, fine it’s not like you’d have let me try again.”

His boyfriend simply grinned triumphantly in response

#chuuatsu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd chuuya #atsushi nakajima #chuuya nakahara

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callsign-swan · 13 hours ago

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Bones

Chapter Six

An animal trainer, a palaeontologist, an archaeologist, a rich boy, and an animal behaviourist on an island full of dinosaurs. They're bound to fall in love, right?

Poly Squad x Reader

Warnings: smutty themes, but no smut yk?

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

"I don't want to, Aunt Charlie."

She gripped your arm and dragged you through your grandfathers house. Her grip was tight enough to hurt, but she ignored your tears.

You were only a child. Small and terrified. Of the dark, of whatever your aunt was taking you to see.

You didn't understand why your grandfather let your aunt conduct her experiments in his basement. You were too young to understand that he was funding it, too.

Your aunt pulled you down the stairs with little regard for your safety. You cried and tried to pull back, but she kept a tight grip on you.

The noises from the basement. Animalistic yowls that would haunt your dreams forever.

She pushed open the door and you squeezed your eyes shut. You had only peeked into the room for a second, but it was enough.

One day, your aunt would make dinosaurs. You didn't know it at the time, but she would make the incredible creatures you worked with every day as an adult.

But that creature wasn't a dinosaur. At was an amalgamation of flesh and scales and teeth. The way it screamed, it had to be in pain. Beady black eyes stared at you. You shut your eyes when it started to move.

It seemed silly to be scared of the dark as an adult. But you couldn't help it. Your aunt showing you her Frankenstein-esque creatures had done a number on you. They lurked in the dark, waiting for the moment you were alone.

Where the hell was Bradley?

In a moment of bravery, you reached out and flipped the switch on the lamp. Nothing happened. You tried it again, but, still, nothing happened. You sobbed as you pulled your arm back under the covers, into safety.

You didn't sleep that night. Every noise had panic seizing you, heart beating out of your chest. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that creature your aunt had created in her lab all those years ago.

Finally, the sun rose. You were so damn tired, just laying there trying to gather yourself.

You didn't like sleeping alone.

The rumble of the engine alerted you to his arrival. Relief, and then annoyance. But he didn't know the terrors that plagued your mind in the darkness.

He killed the engine and walked towards the trailer. You must have been up and getting ready for the day, Bradley assumed as he opened the door. "Bones? I'm home!" He called and kicked the door shut. "How was your..."

But you weren't getting ready. You weren't buttoning your shirt, weren't pulling your hat onto your head or fixing yourself a pathetic excuse for a breakfast.

You weren't doing any of that. You were still in bed, cocooned by blankets. No matter how warm it was in the trailer, you were trembling.

Bradley reached out and flicked on the light. Nothing. "Has the power been out all night?" He asked as he sat on the end of the bed and pulled back the covers. "Jesus shit, Bones," he whispered and brushed your hair away from your face. "Did you sleep at all?"

Sitting up, you shook your head. "No," you answered, voice groggy from just the one word.

His thumb moved over your cheeks, expression full of worry. "Why not?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Just couldn't.”

He searched your face, but found nothing but tiredness. “Okay,” he whispered and pulled you against him. “It's Raptor checks today. Think you'll be awake enough to help with that?”

You nodded your head as a yawn left your lips. It was embarrassing just how ready your body was to betray you. “Roo?” You whispered, raising your head from his shoulder.

He hummed as his hand moved in circles around your back. “I'm right here, baby,” he whispered and rocked you slightly. It was like he was trying to get you to fall asleep then and there.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, face buried against shoulder. “I don't like sleeping alone.”

You sounded so small, so fragile.

“I was with Natasha,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “I thought you'd be with Jake.”

You shook your head. “He's a gentleman, Roo. He wouldn't sleep with me on the first date.”

Bradley touched your chin. “Did you have fun, Bones?” He whispered and you nodded. It was fun, you and Jake. Even if he wouldn't do anything more than kiss you. Maybe on the next date you could get him to touch you a little.

Bradley pulled you to your feet. “Get dressed, Bones. We've got company today.”

Company. Professor Floyd and Doctor Trace. “Roo, I can't,” you mumbled, fingers trembling as you tried to button your shirt. It was uneven, too much fabric left and not enough buttons.

“You can, Angel,” he said gently. He began rebuttoning your shirt for you. “And, if it becomes too much, you can sit in the car.”

You wiped at your nose. “Thank you, Roo,” you mumbled.

As Bradley helped you into your trousers, you pulled your hat onto your head. “We got no time for breakfast, sorry angel,” he whispered and kissed you quickly. “Grab some biscuits. We'll grab something from the mess after. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” you replied and followed him out of the trailer.

He glanced at the generator on his way over to the Bronco. “Probably just needs a good kick,” he mumbled, squeezing your hand.

Bradley helped you into the Bronco. He climbed into the driver's side and set off, through the gates that kept you protected from the rest of the park and on towards the Raptor enclosure.

God, they were so late. Everybody was waiting for them, Jake in his suit, looking out of place. Bob and Nat were dressed just the same as you were, they looked like they belonged.

Parking the Bronco, Bradley looked towards you. “You okay, Angel?” He asked, reaching over to squeeze her knee.

Gaze distant, you nodded your head, pushed open the passenger side door, and climbed out of the Bronco.

There was a moment where Bradley just watched you, his way of making sure that you were okay.

Professor Floyd approached you first. There was something sweet about him, even Bradley knew it. “I've been excited for this,” he said, grin splitting across his features. He didn't realise anything was wrong.

You let yourself smile, even if you could only manage a small one. “Yeah, it's exciting,” you mumbled, scratching at your wrist. “Roo and I spent years training the girls for this.”

“Is this your first time Demo-ing?” He asked and you nodded.

Finally, Bradley climbed out of the Bronco. “The girls are gonna do great,” he said, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

Bob's cheeks flushed pink as Bradley led you away. “Someone definitely has a crush on you, Doctor Bones,” he whispered in your ear.

“Stop it,” you hissed and pushed at his shoulder.

A sweet, melodic chuckle left his lips. Your Rooster. You could have forgiven him then and there for abandoning him through the night.

Just outside of the Raptor paddock, Jake and Doctor Trace were talking. Whatever it was, it didn't seem good. Doctor Trace kept her arms folded over her chest, rolling her eyes at whatever Jake had to say.

You quickened your steps to get to them.

As soon as you had reached Jake, your hand touched his arm. He immediately shut up to look down at you with his signature charming smile. “Hey,” you said, not quite sure what else there was to say. There was nothing else to say in front of everybody else.

“Bones.” His smile became softer, less of that charm/desperation to win you over. Almost like he realised he didn't desperately need to win you over. “Wanna tell us what we're doing today?”

You looked around at the small group. This would either be the most amazing thing you did, or it would go horribly wrong and you'd never hear the end of it.

“Professor Floyd and Doctor Trace,” you began, linking your fingers together in front of you. “In your research, as well as in the research of others in your field, you found just how smart Velociraptors are. During their first time being on this planet, we didn't get to see just how these big brains of theirs could be utilised. Today, we're gonna show you how.”

There was silence, Bob and Nat both staring at you. But Bradley walked over and squeezed your shoulder. Both a ‘well done’ and a single to get going.

Together, the two of you made your way up the stairs on the side of the training paddock. Bradley used his pass to get the both of you onto the walkway and led you over to the control panel at the end.

The Raptors had been trained to respond to different sounds. Different alarms and bells over the sirens. One alarm meant ‘come in for training’ and another signalled dinner. But Bradley didn't use either of those alarms. He used the ones for health checks.

At first, none of the Raptors were visible. They blended in with their environment, until they were running through the training paddock. Rio was the first through the gate, followed by Florence, London and Paris.

All four ran through the training paddock and into the indoor enclosure. As soon as they were inside, Bradley pressed a button and the enclosure door shut.

As you and Bradley made your way down the stairs, the Raptors found their marks. They put their heads over the windows, into the muzzle like contraptions. A worker on the ground pressed a button on the lower control panel and the rooms around the Raptors became smaller, caging them in.

Finally, you and your group were allowed inside. “We still advise you stay back,” Bradley said as he strode over to Rio.

Watching Bradley with Rio was incredible. “Hey girl,” he said gently as he approached her, his hand held up and straight, giving her plenty of time to sniff him.

If she were capable of such a thing, she would have chirped at him. Bradley rested his hand on top of the muzzle like contraption as you approached London.

“Rio is my baby,” he explained to the group. “She came out of her egg smaller than the rest and I didn't want her getting eaten by the other girls so Bones and I raised her in the trailer,” he explained like it was the most casual thing in the world.

But that wasn't what you were here for. You were here to demonstrate how yours and Bradley's work had left you able to health check one of the most dangerous species in the park.

“Hang on, hang on,” Jake said as you made notes of London's eyes (bright, wide and clear). “You raised a Velociraptor in your trailer?”

Bradley's grin would have been devilish, if he had it in him. “Oh, that's nothing. Bones had Bertha like she was a dog until she became too big for our backyard.”

But you weren’t listening. You grabbed a little metal pole from against the wall and used it to lift London’s lips, letting you see her teeth. She had room to move away if she wanted to. But she didn’t, because she knew what came next.

You checked both sides of her head. “Thank you, London,” you said as you made your final notes and nodded to the worker by the control panel. At the press of a button, dead chicks were released into her part of the indoor enclosure.

“Roo.”

You looked at him. His hand was through the bars, resting on Rio’s neck. “Okay, okay,” he said and withdrew his hand. “Bones and I have been working with the girls to get them used to health checks like this,” he said as he made note of Rio’s eyes. Bright and alert. “We’ve started doing health checks on our carnivores on a smaller scale with the girls, but Bones wants to move onto some of our bigger dinosaurs.”

You made a note of the way London ran towards the chicks as they dropped to the floor. All normal behaviour.

“Rio is the only one who’s mouth we can touch with our fingers.” To demonstrate, Bradley used his fingers to lift her lips and show off her teeth. Perfect. But everything about Rio was perfect.

You moved onto Paris, leaving Bradley to check over Florence. “Don’t show me up,” you whispered to the Raptor. Paris released a low, rumbling noise from her throat, and you knew you didn’t have a chance.

“Eyes, bright and clear.” You called as you made a note of just that. Picking up the little metal pole, you lifted Paris’s scaled lips and frowned. “What’ve you been up to, girl?” You asked as you dropped her lip and made a note of her two chipped teeth.

“Bones?” Bradley called as chicks were dropped into Paris’s indoor space. She retreated towards the chicks and you looked towards him. “Florence is missing some feathers,” he said and you looked towards Paris.

“I can get the cameras from Bertha's paddock and set them up for the girls,” you called, wrapping your fingers around the metal bars of the muzzle-like contraption. “But I think we’re gonna have to take Paris out of the herd for a little bit,” you said.

Nodding, Bradley returned his attention to Florence. You watched as he used the little metal pole to lift her lip and reveal her teeth.

Nobody was paying attention to anything but Bradley and Florence. You weren’t paying attention to anything but Bradley and Florence. That’s why nobody noticed when Paris stopped eating her chicks.

She didn’t release that low, rumbling sound as she approached. Slow, careful steps, predator skills ingrained in her very DNA.

Jake looked towards you, a grin on his face. He didn’t know what was going on, he just knew it was going well. And you had to be happy about that.

Glowing eyes. Gleaming, sharp teeth. Jake reacted before he knew what happened. He rushed towards you at the same time Paris did, grabbed you and pulled you away. Paris snapped her jaws shut at the same time, desperately trying to get one of your fingers. But the muzzle stopped her from reaching you.

Eyes were on you, human and otherwise. Jake held you against his chest as your heart raced. Strong arms, warm hands. Your brain desperately tried to grasp onto something else to focus on. Not that Paris had gone for you, not that you had slipped up, done something dangerous and stupid.

“You’re okay,” Jake whispered, fingers stroking up and down your spine. “I’ve got you, Bones.”

taglist: @daggersquaddoll

@lc-birdie

@lavenhaven

@mommymilkers0526

@i-heart-marvel

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lesiasmadness · 4 months ago

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Bestie and I were talking about a chibi Layton figurine he saw being sold in separate pieces, and how someone bought just the hat and nothing else, and the way my darling bestie conveyed this information was "It feels like that person bullied this tiny Layton by stealing his little hat", which left such a vivid image in my mind that now I must inflict it on all of you

Also say hi to chibi Layton shoulder angel and devil, they were born out of this conversation too

#Me? doing chibies?#more likely than you think #... not really I'm always to bad at them this is out of my comfort zone. anyway #HOW DO YOU HAVE THE HEART TO TAKE HIS HAT #bestie truly has the cruelest way with words #anyway tiny shoulder angel Layton makes sense but when i tried to come up with a villain to be the shoulder devil-#-I realized that layton villainsare all too relatable to Layton #so your shoulder angel and devil might just end up agreeing in whatever self destructive advice they be giving #for Luke the discussion just went 'shoulder Luke exists but all he does is tell you to pet every cat you see' - 'he is a shoulder angel'#professor layton #luke triton #hershel layton #my art #chibi art #shitpost

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iamactuallysocute · 25 days ago

Note

you’ve got me thinking about so many scenarios now with the saja boys. like what if reader and bird, and the cat/tiger started bonding, and won’t let the any of the boys near her now. which ofc drives the boys crazy which reader takes full advantage of

SAJA BOYS x HUNTR/X’S ASSISTANT!READER this exact scenario editon

AN: Started with your idea, then flipped the plot a little ;) This is connected to the original assistant!reader series but not canon to it. I KNOW the animals have names but I feel sm better just calling them tiger and bird, so no names will be in this one, except a few times. Just tiger and bird :P also plz tell me if I wrote crow somewhere.

cw: cursing, could be uncomfortable situations for some readers, Stockholm Syndrome developing, sexual themes, me actually writing down “demon dick”

It started, like most of your misfortunes around here, with Baby being a dick.

You don’t know how it happened exactly, maybe he got bored, maybe he just liked the way your skin jumped when feathers brushed your neck unexpectedly, maybe it was just a mood. Either way, Baby got hold of the bird.

He trained it, or more like influenced it, with whatever slick little sugar-poison voice he uses to get what he wants, to divebomb you. Steal your hair ties. Drop little pebbles into your water. One time it literally dragged your sock away mid-nap.

You’d be sitting at the kitchen table, minding your own hostage business, and the next thing you know there’s a feathery blur by your ear and your fucking banana is gone.

Jinu always sighed and said, “Sussie. No.” But it was half-hearted. You could tell even he was impressed sometimes.

And of course, Baby thought it was hilarious. He’d smile with all his teeth, lips barely curled up, watching you wrestle with a bird wearing a tiny hat. He’d hum to himself as the bird ran off with your notes, or your pen, or your peace of mind.

But here’s the thing, you bond with animals.

Always have.

So while the bird spent a good two weeks trying to make your life a nightmare, it started changing. Subtly, at first. It would land near you after a successful theft and just stare. Not looking for praise. Just…waiting. Studying. It noticed when you didn’t scream. When you didn’t chase it down. When you just reached for your backup pen without a care. It didn’t know what to do with that.

Then one day, you fed it a dried mango piece. No big show, no coaxing, no baby voice. Just held it out and waited.

It took it from your fingers, slow. Eyeing you with something like suspicion. It came back the next day. Sat on the coffee table and blinked at you while you peeled an orange. And when Baby told it to go knock your cup over?

It didn’t move.

That silence was delicious. Baby narrowed his eyes. “Sussie.” he said again, warning in his tone.

The bird ruffled its feathers and hopped closer to you instead.

After that, the bird kept hanging around. Close enough that its tiny hat started looking endearing rather than stupid. It picked your shoulder more than Baby’s now. Started bringing you things, too, shiny buttons, a single earring, once even a heart-shaped stone it must’ve dug out of some rooftop garden or one of Romance’s necklaces.

Then there’s the tiger.

You didn’t even try. You didn’t coo at it or offer treats or chase it around the apartment like Romance once did with a laser pointer (a bad idea, he got clawed so hard he couldn’t wear crop tops for a week). You just…acknowledged it.

You’d smile when it entered a room. Move out of the way without comment. Sat near it, not with it, when it chose to lounge near the couch.

And eventually, the tiger started choosing you.

The first time it climbed into your lap, you were shelling sunflower seeds on the balcony, blanket over your legs. It circled twice, and settled with its massive weight pinning your legs numb. It purred, deep and resonant. You didn’t dare move.

You did, however, slowly, carefully, place a seed in front of the bird sitting on the railing.

Balance.

Now, the tiger follows you from room to room. The bird perches on your shoulder, judging everyone and occasionally trying to steal your fruit again.

Baby pretends it doesn’t bother him. But it does. You can tell. Every time the bird ignores his call, or the tiger hisses when he enters the room, his eye twitches just slightly.

Sometimes you whisper, “Traitor.” to the bird, just to tease. It blinks slowly, like Yeah, and what about it?

Jinu watches the whole thing with that serene little smile. Not surprised. Not proud. Just…gentle. Like he always knew you’d bond with them. Like that’s the real reason they’re yours now.

And it’s weird, maybe. Being held here. Being watched, interrogated, occasionally flirted with or ignored or attacked. But you have allies now.

And honestly, at this point? You think they’d kill for you.

Though the tiger, as majestic and celestial and myth-born as it looks, is dumb as bricks.

There’s no other way to say it.

You’re pretty sure if it were capable of stringing thoughts together, they’d sound like, “food now? sleep here? this lap mine? bird annoying. must sit on bird.” It’s all muscle and divine elegance until it walks headfirst into a sliding door. Which it has. Twice. Tail held high the whole time like it meant to do that.

It’ll stare at shadows for hours. Watch lint fall. Try to climb inside laundry baskets and then forget how to get out. One time, it saw its own reflection in the mirror and spent ten whole minutes just pawing at it, purring.

An idiot, really. A glorious, loveable idiot.

But the bird? The bird is smarter than most of the boys.

That bird knows things. It gets things.

And at some point, maybe when you sat on the bathroom floor silently crying while the bird just perched nearby, not leaving, it started to realize the shape of your reality.

The boys, in their beautiful idiocy, had forgotten the most basic rule of kidnapping someone: acknowledge that you fucking kidnapped someone.

They didn’t talk about it. Not once. No mention of how you got there. No apologies. No explanations.

And for the longest time, the bird didn’t know any better.

But the bird is sharp. It noticed things they didn’t.

It noticed the way your shoulders tensed whenever someone blocked the door. The way you never turned your back fully in the kitchen. The way you clutched your toothbrush like a shiv, or kept the steak knife under your pillow. The way you flinched when someone laughed too loud.

The tiger didn’t understand allat. Not really. It just knew when you were sad. It would curl up next to you and make little bleating, wheezing purrs and press its giant head against your leg. It once dropped a sock in your lap and looked so proud you almost cried.

But the bird?

The bird wanted revenge.

It started small. Nothing major. Just tiny fuck-you’s.

Like flying away with Baby’s eyeliner. Perching directly above Romance and shitting precisely as he was taking selfies. Switching Jinu’s calming tea with saltwater. Taking Abby’s gym socks and hiding them in the rice cooker. The only one it didn’t harass daily was Mystery, but only because he didn’t really do anything to you.

They thought it was funny at first.

But it didn’t stop. It escalated.

The moment Baby realized it could unlock his phone? Brutal.

But Jinu wouldn’t let them punish it. Of course not. It was his. Which made them even more mad because they couldn’t yell at him either. Jinu’s soft “hmm?” and gentle hand petting the tiger meant absolutely nothing was getting done.

Meanwhile, the bird would sit on your shoulder, tilting its head just enough to let you know: yeah, I’m doing this for you.

You started letting it perch inside your room. Let it steal Abby’s protein bars and deliver them. You even once cracked open your window and whispered, “Go terrorize Baby for me.”

It came back two hours later with eyeliner all over its wings and one of Baby’s earrings.

And the tiger? Well. The cat didn’t do schemes.

It just loved.

You think that’s what made it dumber than the bird, but somehow sweeter. The tiger didn’t care what kind of tension filled the apartment, or which boy was growling at which. It just found the softest part of any room, flopped belly-up, and let Abby pet it.

It was particularly fond of Jinu’s lap, of course, but once it started sleeping in your bed? Game over.

It was your bed now.

And gods help anyone who tried to move it.

Romance tried once. Just once. Came into your room and tried to slide in beside you.

The tiger hissed so loud it blew out two overhead bulbs.

Romance ran.

After that, you didn’t need to lock your door. The tiger handled everything.

But Abby could flop down next to the tiger, call it “Big Fucker,” and rub its belly with both hands like it was a dog, and the tiger would just melt. Flat on its back, eyes closed, purring.

You didn’t mind at first. Thought it was sweet, even, seeing how gentle Abby got when he was with the tiger. Like it unlocked something in him that wasn’t pure evil. You liked that side of him, quietly.

But things started shifting.

Because even though Abby could pet the tiger’s belly…

The tiger didn’t just tolerate you. It gravitated toward you.

Started sleeping in your bed. Licking your hand. Butting its massive head under your palm until you pet it exactly the way it liked. Following you into the bathroom like you were the only creature in the entire apartment worth monitoring while peeing.

Abby noticed. Of course he did.

“Bro.” he said one day, staring in betrayal as the tiger stood up mid-pet and walked out of his arms to go sit by your feet. “I just gave him a whole-ass fish.”

You shrugged.

It felt good. Just a little. To be chosen.

Jinu, though. Jinu was different.

The tiger had chosen him first. You could see it in the way it curled around his legs when he was thinking, or in the way it listened when he whispered in its ear. He was soft with it. Never used it like a weapon. Never demanded anything. Just offered presence and peace.

And now, with you?

It was the same kind of love.

If Jinu was the beginning of the tiger’s life, you were the second parent in the divorce.

You’d catch Jinu’s eye sometimes. He’d just smile, fond and a little tired.

“He’s spoiled.” he’d murmur, watching the tiger roll onto its back, massive paws in the air, demanding more affection.

You’d nod. “He gets it from your side of the family.”

And Jinu would laugh, quiet and warm, like the two of you were in on something bigger than everyone else.

The bird made no such compromises.

It was yours.

Flat-out, fully, unapologetically. Even when it still technically listened to Jinu—came when he called, perched on his arm when he whistled—it still returned to you.

It started sleeping near your pillow.

Started warning you when someone was coming down the hallway.

Started pulling your sleeve when Baby entered the room.

No more pranks. No more tests. It trusted you now. And anyone who didn’t? Anyone who crossed that line?

The bird would handle them.

It became very clear, very fast, that the animal had picked a side. And it was not the boys’.

It began policing them.

Not overtly. The bird was too clever for that. But it started showing up between you and the others. Not all of them, not all the time, mostly just Romance, Mystery, and Baby. (Especially Baby. That vendetta never quite died.)

They all noticed.

Baby started giving it the look, that sharp, slit-eyed, oh-you-want-to-fucking-go look.

Romance pretended to be heartbroken. Put his hand to his chest, all “Birdy, how could you?” while inching away under its stare.

Mystery just glared at it. The bird glared back. Feathers ruffled, wings spread.

The tiger joined in, eventually.

Not in the same active, devious way.

The tiger started inserting itself, sprawling across doorways whenever someone tried to corner you, laying on your lap when someone tried to sit next to you, curling up on your feet when the boys raised their voices.

It was unmovable.

At one point, Abby came too close during a joke—just a joke, really—and the tiger slowly turned its head and growled.

That shook him. Just enough to step back, hands raised. “Damn, okay, I got it.”

You were being guarded.

Kept.

You’re locked in a penthouse with five demon boys, kidnapped from your job like it was some cute prank, denied freedom, interrogated, and occasionally tortured. You’ve been through shit. You’ve cried silently on tiled floors. You’ve been treated like background noise and still no one’s even acknowledged that you didn’t ask to be here.

So no. You don’t feel bad. Not even a little. The bird became your errand boy. Baby once tried to lock you in the guest room while he “dealt with something” (read: Romance having an emotional meltdown over not being the most popular Saja on TikTok that week), and you just smiled, waited for the door to click shut, and whispered, “Go.”

The bird flew off in an instant.

Thirty seconds later? You were free. Not because you broke out, because the bird had taken the keys right out of Abby’s pocket.

By the time Baby realized, you were already on the balcony, cup of tea in hand, staring out at the skyline.

He stood there, blinking at you like he’d forgotten who held the leash now.

And you just said, “Forgot to lock it better.”

Then you began testing your limits more.

Started walking into the boys’ rooms just to look at things.

Not for revenge. Not for sabotage. Just because you could.

The bird would perch on your shoulder like a little knight, ready to scream at the first sign of resistance. The tiger would trail behind, tail curling around your ankles, utterly unconcerned.

You stepped into Romance’s walk-in closet once and picked up his most dramatic silk shirt. Stared at yourself in the mirror.

He caught you.

Right in the doorway, mouth parted, hand already raised to start his usual flirty bullshit. But then he saw the cat, planted at your feet like a bouncer. And the bird, tilting its head on the top shelf.

He just smiled. “Looking good, angel.”

You didn’t answer. Just walked past him like he was the wallpaper.

And Jinu? Sweet, loser Jinu?

You loved him. Hated that you loved him. He was kind in a way the others weren’t. But he still let this happen. Let them take you. Let them keep you. Prolly planned it first place.

So now, when you walked past him and the tiger followed you instead, tail curling, purring like thunder? You didn’t smile. But you made sure to meet his eyes.

He didn’t say a word. Just looked quietly… wistful. Like someone who realized they were losing custody.

It evolved.

You started using the animals as social armor. Like a literal shield.

And when you were sad, you didn’t cry anymore. You just curled up on your bed. Cat to your left, bird to your right, a pillow behind your head.

You didn’t ask them for comfort. Didn’t need to.

They came anyway.

The bird would bring you shiny things. Screws. Buttons. Random rings from the boys though none of them fit you. The tiger would press itself so close you couldn’t tell where it ended and you began.

While Romance?

He wanted you melting in his arms.

Mystery?

Wanted to be close without touching. Wanted to be inside your head, buried deep.

Baby?

Fuck if he knew what he wanted. He kicked your chair one day. Once stood behind you for twenty silent minutes just breathing like he was working up the courage to insult you.

Abby?

He laughed around you too hard, wrestled the others right in front of you, made a whole show of being the alpha male. But he was a fool for you.

And Jinu?

He’s an actual loser beneath the pretty looks and the perfect little nose.

So yeah, but then, Romance started brushing his teeth before speaking to you. Like a ritual. Mystery started growling less when you were around, which for him was practically a love letter. Abby cleaned up. Dusted things. Accidentally said “please.” Baby not kicking your legs out from under you. Jinu just turned into a bigger loser on the inside, but kept trying to make this better for you, even if you didn’t cooperate.

The animals saw all of it. And they did not approve.

Because you didn’t know.

You didn’t notice. You were busy staying away, surviving. You saw the boys as chaos. As danger. As captors who sometimes made you laugh and sometimes made you ache.

The feelings—the real ones—went under your radar.

But not under the animals’.

When Romance leaned too close? The bird would flap into his face. No warning. No elegance. Just a sudden flutter of feathers and caws that sounded exactly like laughter.

When Abby tried to ask you if you wanted to “maybe watch a movie or whatever” the bird pecked his bicep hard enough to leave a bruise.

When Jinu hovered nearby with something stupidly soft in his eyes, the bird would interrupt him. Or just drop a bottle cap or a coin in your lap so you don’t pay attention to Jinu.

Baby started swearing at it in four different tongues atp.

Mystery tried to lunge at it once. It bit his ear and lived to tell the tale.

The tiger would lie between you and the boys.

Abby once tried to casually sit next to you on the couch. The cat climbed his legs, sat on his chest, and would not move.

Jinu reached for your hand to help you up from the floor. The cat headbutted your knees and knocked you forward into its side instead.

Romance, being Romance, tried to say, “C’mon, angel, don’t you miss male attention?” and got slapped with a tail so hard it knocked his earring out.

Mystery didn’t even try anymore.

It liked Baby until Baby dared to talk to you.

You started noticing, eventually. Little things. The boys standing just a touch farther back. The way they’d hesitate. The way the animals always showed up when things got emotionally warm.

You see, animals feel things.

These animals—your tiger, your bird—didn’t read facial expressions, they read pulses. They didn’t care what someone said, they cared how their blood moved when they said it.

And when it came to the boys?

Well.

There was a lot to feel.

It wasn’t obvious at first. Not to you. You’d gotten used to their bullshit, Romance’s sex-drenched nonsense, Baby’s passive-aggressive jabs, Abby’s jock energy, Mystery’s whole “I will kill for you and then disappear into the walls” thing, and whatever that was going on with Jinu at this point. It all just blurred together.

So you didn’t notice. Not really. But the animals did. They noticed how Romance’s heartbeat spiked when you walked into a room. How Baby’s eyes always drifted your way when he thought no one was looking. How Abby got quieter around you. How Mystery watched you. The longing in Jinu’s eyes.

They noticed all of it.

And they were annoyed.

Because you weren’t interested. Or—more accurately—you were avoiding them.

Smart, honestly. They kidnapped you. They tortured you. They didn’t deserve you. The tiger and the bird agreed. But also? They were sick of how complicated this was getting.

Because you used them. Not maliciously. Just instinctively. Used the tiger as a wall, a buffer. You’d pet his big dumb head while Abby sat three feet away, clearly trying to find a way to say “Hey, I think about kissing you.” Used the bird as a barrier. Let it perch on your shoulder while Baby ranted about “how annoying humans are.” all while stealing glances at your mouth like he wanted to insult you with his tongue.

You built your fortress with fur and feathers.

And it worked. Too well.

The boys couldn’t get close. Not emotionally. Not physically.

So the animals did what any emotionally exhausted roommates would do in this situation:

They turned on you.

Not in a cruel way. They still loved you. Worshipped you, really. But they made an unspoken decision, one cloudy afternoon while you were napping under a sunbeam and the boys were scattered across the living room pretending not to look at you:

They were going to wingman.

It started with the bird.

Because wing. Heh. Get it? Bird and wing. Heh. No? Okay fuck me then.

The bird was smart. Smarter than the boys, probably. And it had watched long enough. It knew Baby was close to blowing his whole “I don’t give a fuck” cover. Knew Romance was a breath away from writing a ten-minute ballad. Knew Jinu was already in love with you and just politely suppressing it like it was a kink he was embarrassed to name.

So the bird started nudging.

You’d sit on the couch and suddenly there was space. The bird wouldn’t perch on your shoulder, it’d go to the windowsill. Leave a gap between you and whoever else was there.

You didn’t notice at first.

But the boys did.

Baby slid into that spot once, acting casual, only to freeze when you didn’t stop him. The bird cawed once, loud and approving, and he nearly passed out from the sheer rush of it.

Romance caught on fast. Of course he did. He followed the bird’s lead. Started showing up wherever you were, but not pushing. Just… hovering. Letting the silence between you stretch, but always being available.

One day, the bird landed on your desk, dropped a hairpin in front of you like a gift, and then pecked the air, once toward you, once toward Romance, then flew off like it had more matchmaking to do.

Romance grinned.

The tiger, bless him, was dumb as rocks if I haven’t said that already.

Not in a way that made him useless. Just… slow. He got the vibes but not the nuance. He’d see you sitting on the floor with your tea, and instead of guarding you like usual, he’d suddenly get up, walk over to Abby, and flop down directly across Abby’s legs, purring.

You figured it was just laziness. The boys figured it was random.

But it wasn’t. It was strategy.

The tiger started “accidentally” leaving you unguarded. Would find other laps to sprawl in. Would go snuggle with Jinu while you were in the kitchen, and then not-so-subtly nudge Jinu toward the counter you were slicing apples at.

One time, the tiger headbutted you so hard you stumbled right into Mystery’s arms.

You were too embarrassed to meet his eyes, but he didn’t move. Just stood there, chest barely rising, holding you.

The bird gave a low whistle from the top of the bookshelf.

Success.

You still didn’t get it. Still thought the boys were just annoying and bored and full of themselves, and sure, yeah, they were.

But they were also soft for you. Desperate in five different flavors.

Romance flirted because it was the only language he knew.

Baby insulted you because sincerity felt like peeling his skin off.

Abby got awkward and loud because being vulnerable wasn’t part of his programming.

Mystery didn’t speak, but his gaze could hollow out gods.

Jinu looked at you like he was waiting for an apology for falling in love. Loser. Loser. Have I said loser?

And the animals were tired of watching them fail.

So now? They interfered.

The bird started timing things.

Like, you’d wake up late and shuffle bleary-eyed into the kitchen, hair a mess, t-shirt barely hanging off your shoulder, and who would already be there, hair perfectly mussed, sweatpants low on his hips, humming like he didn’t spend twenty minutes prepping for this moment?

Romance.

Acting casual, like he didn’t know what time you usually got up. Like the bird didn’t land on his chest that morning and scream until he rolled out of bed and stood in the kitchen waiting.

“Oh hey, angel. Didn’t see you there.”

Sure. Sure, he didn’t.

The bird would then perch on the cabinet and just… watch. Casually. As if to say: Are you gonna offer to share your grapefruit or not, slut?

Romance would usually cave. He always did. Ended up leaning against the counter, peeling segments for you like he wasn’t plotting a second kidnapping, this time to steal your heart.

Then came Abby’s training arc.

The tiger loved Abby. They wrestled constantly. It was honestly cute.

But after the cat started picking you over him more and more, the dumbass man started sulking.

So the tiger changed tactics. Went back to Abby, started play-fighting again, only now? It was instructional. He’d nudge Abby toward you. Literally press his entire dumb weight against Abby’s side until he was leaning awkwardly into your space. It got to the point where you’d be sipping tea and Abby would be hovering six inches from your thigh, face red, like he couldn’t physically move away.

You glanced at him once, eyebrow raised. “You good?”

He panicked. “Tiger’s heavy. I—he’s like gravity. Just—just ignore me.”

You didn’t. You smirked, leaned into it. Let him sweat.

Tiger purred, proud and dumb.

The bird got meaner with Baby.

Because that boy would not get his shit together.

He liked you. He didn’t say it, he insulted you, mostly. Called you names. Acted like your presence was an inconvenience. But the bird knew. Knew by how Baby always looked when you left the room. How quiet he got.

So the bird escalated.

Started sabotaging Baby’s entire life.

Pushed his shampoo off the shelf. Hid his things. Took his makeup brushes and dropped them in your lap like “you fix him.”

Mystery was harder. He didn’t talk. Just blushed sometimes and looked.

But the tiger? The tiger loved him.

Not like Abby-love. No wrestling. Just a weird, quiet affection. They’d sit near each other and stare into the void. Besties.

So one day, when you were curled up in a corner with a book, Mystery watching you from across the room, the tiger just got up, yawned, and walked over to Mystery. Sat down next to him. And then began shoving him toward you.

It was slow. Methodical. Giant nudges of his hip. Every time Mystery tried to readjust, the tiger would just headbutt him again.

You didn’t look up until Mystery was practically pressed to your side, hands curled into fists like he was trying not to implode.

You blinked at him. He blinked back from behind his hair.

The bird whistled from the ceiling, scandalized.

And of course, Jinu.

He needed the most help, surprisingly.

And his animals? His bird, his tiger? They were betrayers.

They picked sides. Yours. Every time.

But even they couldn’t deny Jinu deserved something. Anything.

So they started making moments. The bird would “accidentally” drop your hair tie behind the couch and then screech until Jinu came to help you retrieve it. The tiger would pretend to be sick, lay on the floor groaning, tail twitching, until you and Jinu both had your hands on him at the same time, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder.

But the real win?

One night, you had a nightmare. Not screaming. Just… subtle. A whimper. A shift.

You didn’t wake up alone.

The tiger of course was already there. But the bird? The bird had flown to Jinu’s room. Pecked his face until he woke. Led him to your door. Then flew off.

Jinu didn’t say a word. Just sat on the edge of your bed, hand barely touching your ankle through the blanket, presence warm.

When you woke?

You didn’t even question it.

You just reached for him.

And he stayed.

The animals? They saw the cracks forming. The warmth. The beginning of something real.

You weren’t running from the boys anymore. You were watching them. Smiling, sometimes. Letting your guard down inch by inch.

At first, it was full resistance.

Understandably.

You were taken. Tied up. Questioned. Threatened. Occasionally growled at (Mystery), seduced at (Romance), ignored (Baby), coddled (Jinu), or dragged into gym drills against your will (Abby).

All this was going on, but after a while, it changed. It sure did.

Let’s start with the towel incident.

You were just trying to exist. You stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, one towel. Hair damp, steam still rising off your skin. You were planning to make a quick run to your room, grab your clothes, be invisible. No problem.

Except the tiger was waiting outside the door. Sitting. Like a bouncer.

He blinked up at you, tail wagging lazily, clearly delighted with the sight of you looking human, fresh and flushed and a little vulnerable.

“No.” you told him flatly. “Absolutely not.”

He made a little chirping noise. Then stood. Walked straight to Jinu’s room.

And began pawing the door.

You turned so fast your towel slipped, and you were half-wrestling with it, trying not to flash your whole ass to the hallway, when the door opened and there was Jinu, shirtless, looking dazed.

Tiger shoved past him, headbutted his hip, then trotted back to you.

You just stared at him. “What part of this looks like a good time for socialization?”

Tiger didn’t care. Sat beside you. Tail thumping. Looking at Jinu.

Jinu coughed, clearly trying to look anywhere but directly at your legs. “I—um—I’ll get you a robe?”

You turned and marched to your room. Tiger followed.

It also did this with Romance once, like… three days later.

He stopped in his tracks. His gaze dropped. Saw you. The towel. The death grip on your chest. The tiger beside you wagging its tail.

Romance blinked once. Twice.

“…I love you.” he said.

You slammed the door in his face.

The tiger scratched at the other side.

Another time you were sitting on the floor, playing with the bird (who was dragging a stolen earring across the carpet). The tiger was curled nearby. Abby walked in, sipping a smoothie, mid-conversation with Mystery.

He barely looked at you. Just nodded like a bro. “Sup.”

You nodded back. Fine. Neutral.

The tiger? Not fine. The tiger got up. Walked over. Headbutted Abby so hard he stumbled forward. Right into your space.

He blinked. You blinked.

“I didn’t do that.” he said quickly.

The tiger laid down behind him. Boxed him in. Big paws on either side. Nowhere to go.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trapped?”

Abby rubbed the back of his neck. “He does this sometimes.”

You smirked. “He definitely does.”

You sat like that for twenty minutes. Abby awkward. You amused. The tiger thrilled.

Once, you were on your way to the big bathroom, towel in hand, cat trailing after you.

Until Romance walked out of that said bathroom, dripping wet. Wrapped in a towel that was too low. Hair a mess. Muscles glistening like he moisturizes with fucking coconut oil.

You turned to leave. Immediately.

But the bird screeched at you. Full wingspan out, blocking the way.

Romance blinked at the scene. Slowly. Then smiled, infuriatingly. “Hey, angel. Want the shower next or wanna share?”

You narrowed your eyes at the bird. “This is manipulative.”

It cawed. Unrepentant. Tiger didn’t move. Just smiled.

You walked away anyway. But you heard Romance laughing under his breath.

And now my favorite fact, the tiger thinks Abby is the ideal mate.

In tiger logic, this made sense. Abby was strong, loud, covered in sweat 80% of the time. He gave great belly rubs. Wrestled daily. Brought snacks. He was affectionate. He scratched that perfect itch just above the haunches. He was the best pillow in the apartment. He even kissed the top of tiger’s dumb head once after a workout, and that was it. The tiger was sold. Which meant you should fuck him. Immediately.

So when you were walking down the hall, the tiger slid between your legs, because the fact that you and Abby weren’t rolling around like tiger and his favorite blanket was deeply upsetting to him. So it forced you to grab the nearest thing for balance.

That thing is Abby, coming out of his room in a tank top, completely unaware of the trap.

You crashed into him, full-body.

His hand caught your waist.

You both froze. Inches apart. Breathing hard.

You parted awkwardly. Tripping over words. Betrayed.

Another time, you were in the kitchen, trying to chop onions in peace for a little pasta you were making. Romance walked by in nothing but sweatpants and the ego of a man who knows he looks like sex in bad lighting.

You ignored him, because he was being normal for once.

Until the bird dive-bombed your cutting board, snatched an onion ring, and flies into Romance’s face.

And then—slip. His pants slide just a bit too low.

Just slightly too low.

He grabbed at them, but the damage is done.

You froze.

He froze.

A beat of absolute silence.

Romance coughed, stepped back, voice slightly higher. “This is not how I wanted you to see that.”

You blinked. Slowly. “…You’re not wearing underwear?”

“I was! Sussie did something to the string—! I swear—!”

You sliced another onion, deadpan. “Romance, if your bird ever takes your pants off in my vicinity again, I will genuinely skin you alive.”

The tiger walked by, saw Romance half-naked and flustered, saw you not running, and just purred.

And the bird can be so much worse.

He doesn’t understand shame. Or nudity. Or human social etiquette.

So one night, Jinu freshly out of the shower, hair damp, robe loose, looking absolutely dangerous. You were in the hall, about to turn away, because respect, when the bird slammed into your back and pushes you forward.

Right into Jinu’s chest.

The robe opened a little.

Chest. Abs. A low “Oh—shit, sorry—” from him, all while trying to adjust without flashing you completely.

You tried to stumble back.

The bird blocked you.

Jinu was panicked but gentle, saying “He’s been doing this for days. I—I’m so sorry—do you want me to call him off?”

“I don’t think you can.”

“I really can’t.”

“It’s okay. I’ve seen worse.”

Yeah, that was… awkward.

Don’t even get me started on when you were bending over to tie your shoe.

Baby walked in. He wasn’t expecting you there. You weren’t expecting him. But it happens.

He stared.

You glanced back, casual. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Too fast.

You stood, slow. He was still staring. Eyes flick down. Back up. Red face. Like he’s trying to look away but physically can’t.

Sussie swooped down. Landed on the dresser. Pecked Baby’s crotch.

Right. On. Target.

He flinched. Hard. Then grabbed the bird and stormed off with it to give it a big fucking talk.

Now that I’m telling stories, you and Mystery had a quiet rapport, you didn’t hate him the way you hated the others at first. He didn’t try to touch you. Didn’t speak unless needed. He’d just sit in your radius.

But you hadn’t made any moves. No glances. No flirting.

So the bird forced you to.

Yes, even Mystery got dragged into it. Which was frankly unfair because the man couldn’t even speak in full sentences most days and now he was being cornered into moments with you planned by a bird with a vendetta and a cat with the IQ of a carrot.

One morning, you were heading to the balcony. Coffee in hand, half-asleep. You slid the door open, and the bird flew at your face.

You yelped, dropped the mug, and ducked.

When you looked up, Mystery was right there behind you. Not just close. Pressed to you. His arm shot out to keep you from falling, palm on your waist, mouth just behind your ear.

You both went still. Heat. Breath. Your spine curved like a reflex.

His voice was low. Rough. “You okay?”

You nodded. Too fast. “Sussie’s a dick.”

He didn’t move. “Yes.”

You were sweating. You blamed the coffee. Which you spilled. Which you never cleaned up because you ran.

The bird cackled for two solid minutes.

The animals didn’t understand discomfort. They didn’t recognize that a towel barely hanging off a hip meant anything bad. They didn’t know what erections were. They didn’t know that pushing you chest-first into Mystery’s lap was not okay.

They just saw affection. Saw tension. Saw chemistry and warmth and love, even if none of you could admit it yet.

They didn’t care about the rules of human touch.

They cared that you belonged.

Still took part in your little stunts though, for an example, you’d be sitting on the couch, and Romance would try to get all up in your space with that low voice and hungry stare, all “So, sweetheart, want to sit in my lap while we pick a movie—?”

And you’d snap your fingers.

Bird. Instant.

Lands on Romance’s thigh and pecks his dick.

Hard.

Romance yelps. You sip your tea. The bird preens.

Other times? Tiger plays the long game. Not because he’s smart—he’s not—but because he’s loyal. Which means, if he sees you frowning? Or crossing your arms? Or if anyone raises their voice even slightly near you?

He’s there.

Blocking. Nudging. Sitting on laps that weren’t offering.

Abby once called you “bratty”, and you didn’t even have to say anything, tiger stood up, walked across the room, and pushed Abby into a wall.

No claws. No growl. Just brute, slow, emotional pressure.

Abby’s response: “Okay. Okay, she’s not bratty. She’s lovely. I was wrong. Jesus.”

So yeah, they were still loyal to you, but no doubt that they also enjoyed doing… this, to you and the boys.

Another story incoming, it was a slow afternoon. The boys were lounging in the living room, half-dressed, lazy, complaining about annoying fans, humans in general.

You were sitting on the floor, half-watching them argue over whether or not Mystery had eaten someone recently. You mentioned, offhandedly, “It’s weird how your marks aren’t always visible. When do they even show up?”

Pause.

Romance smiled. “You paying that much attention, angel?”

You did not respond. Because no. You absolutely were not watching the way their bodies lit up violet when they got serious. You were not obsessing over the curling marks down Abby’s spine or the ones that ran from Baby’s jaw to his throat. You were not thinking about the ones on Jinu’s ribs.

No.

Not thinking about it at all.

And then, the bird turned its head. Looked at you. Looked at the boys. Looked down.

It flew across the room and landed square on Abby’s thigh.

Then it started pecking at the waistband of his sweatpants.

The boys went silent.

You choked on air.

The bird made a triumphant caw, grabbed the elastic waistband in its beak, and yanked to show you where else were patterns.

Romance dropped his drink, howled with laughter. The others watched with mouths agape.

The tiger, by the way? In the corner. Smiling. Like he understood exactly zero percent of the conversation but yes yes, this is family time, very good, I love when people scream. He rolled onto his back and started snoring.

The bird did not succeed in full pantsing Abby, unfortunately. (Or fortunately, depending on your trauma levels and whether or not you were ready to see what the demon gymrat was packing.)

Eventually, Jinu pried the bird off and carried it out of the room while it cawed in protest. “Sorry.” he told you gently. “He’s just… like this.”

“No.” you gasped, tears still in your eyes. “Let him cook.”

Jinu did NOT understand what that meant.

I’m carried away with the little stories, so once you were reading. That’s all. Just sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, trying to enjoy a little peace. The tiger was behind you, his big warm bulk nestled against the back of the couch.

He was snoring. You were ignoring him. So far, so good.

Then Romance walked in. Stretching. Fresh out of the shower.

He gave you one of his usual morning, sweetheart purrs and flopped onto the couch behind you.

The tiger lifted his head.

Looked between you and Romance.

Then stood up.

Walked around. Circled twice. And then shoved his giant body behind you—right between you and the couch—forcing you to fall backward. You slammed right into Romance’s chest, book flying.

“Shit—” You tried to sit up.

Romance’s arms went around you on instinct and he laughed into your neck. “Tiger. Buddy. I owe you one.”

You tried to get up. The tiger pushed his paw down on your thigh. Kept you firmly planted in Romance’s lap.

You could feel it.

Yeah. A dick. Under you. An actual demon dick.

Romance’s breath stuttered. His grip tightened. You both froze.

The tiger just yawned. It didn’t give a fuck, if it was capable of that. But what it does have is loyalty. And love. And the kind of warmth that makes Abby say shit like, “I’d literally die for this idiot.”

(Which he said. Once. While scratching the tiger’s belly. The tiger’s leg kicked like a dog. Abby cooed. Everyone else gagged.)

So yeah, it kept happening. Different variations.

Bird dropping your things into Baby’s lap just so that he can hold it in the air while you try to reach it.

Tiger pinning you to the kitchen floor mid-stretch and Jinu walking in right as your ass is perfectly arched.

Bird playing middleman in a game of fetch where the only “fetch” item was your bra (don’t ask).

Tiger shoving Abby forward into you while you were drinking tea, leading to a splash, a tangle of limbs, and somehow a hand on your thigh that didn’t move for a full minute.

Bird placing your hand into Mystery’s.

You stopped questioning it.

Not because it wasn’t weird. It was hella weird. But you started to like it. Started noticing how each boy reacted.

Romance would smirk but get real quiet, like he didn’t want to ruin it.

Abby would blush and joke but keep his hand a little too long on your hip.

Mystery wouldn’t say a word, just breathe slower, closer.

Jinu would help you up, apologize, but his hand would shake a little when he let go.

Baby always cursed under his breath. Acted annoyed. But never looked away. Never left.

Yeah. So this.

From being your tiny rebel army of “fuck these boys” to your two ride-or-die little assistants, your unofficial bodyguards and besties, your only allies…

To this.

You remember when the bird used to scream like a kettle every time one of the boys so much as entered your airspace. When it would nip at fingers, throw things at heads, or squawk aggressively.

You remember when the tiger would lie down in doorways just to block them from approaching. When it used to shove its giant head between you and anyone who got within arm’s length, and just sit there.

And now look at that and where we are now. From keeping the guys away from you to nudging them forward.

You used to count the minutes between interactions. Every word out of their mouths was another slice of evidence: they weren’t normal. They weren’t kind. They weren’t human.

Now you count the beats of silence where they try not to stare.

You count the seconds Romance goes without making a joke when you walk into the room, how long he watches before the cocky mask slips into something earnest. You count the times Jinu passes this and that, saying nothing, eyes too soft for a captor. You count the fucking accidental tenderness in Baby’s insults, how he calls you “brat” like he wants you to call him back. You count every time Abby gives you space… and then doesn’t. Even Mystery is gentler now, in his way. Not less feral, just targeted. Still jumps Romance at least once a day. Still growls like a dog you shouldn’t pet. But with you? It’s touch-without-warning. Steady presence. A rare nod. A soft noise in his throat when you leave the room too fast, like something he can’t not track.

You’re still resistant. Still watchful. Still technically their hostage.

But you’re not so sure where the lines are anymore.

You’re reaching for something on a high shelf? Bird swoops in and knocks it off, straight into Romance’s hands.

You’re walking across the living room? He dive-bombs your shoulder and oh no, you stumble directly into Abby’s chest.

You’re trying to stay in your room? The bird perches on your head and just vibrates until you give up and find Mystery.

Tiger’s method is simpler. Dumber. More endearing.

If you sit down, he sits beside you.

If you stand up, he walks behind you.

If you walk into a room, he lies down and points his whole tiger body toward the boy you like least that day.

So yeah.

From being your precious little babies who protected you, they’ve become your worst best allies. They love you. But they also ship the hell out of you.

You just wanted peace.

Now you’ve got five demon boys circling, a bird playing 4D chess with your sex life, and a tiger who thinks cuddling with the enemy is the only true path.

Honestly?

You’re starting to wonder if you even want to escape anymore.

THIS IS NOT CANON TO THE ORIGINAL STORY LINE OF THE ASSISTANT READER SERIES!

#kpdh #kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #kpdh x you #the saja boys #abby kpdh #abby kpop demon hunters #baby kpdh #baby kpop demon hunters #jinu kpop demon hunters #jinu kpdh #romance kpop demon hunters #romance kpdh #mystery kpop demon hunters #mystery kpdh

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nezuscribe · 2 months ago

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being gojo’s fake girlfriend means that you have to bottle up your real feelings just so he can express his. but it also means that for the first time, he sees you in a different way too.

maybe it’s the time spent together in front of people acting like you’re a real couple, maybe it’s the closeness that you never had before, but gojo starts seeking out your touch, your laugh, your voice, your presence more than he thought he would. it’s weird, it’s addictive.

so sue him if he sometimes takes advantage of it.

“g’off me!” you yell, muffled by the large body slumped on top of you. there’s no bite, maybe even a little laughter as he stays still, arms caging you into the couch.

you were over at his apartment for the night, not feeling like driving back to your house after classes, and seeing how gojo lives so close to campus you decided to crash at his place.

but now, after dinner and a movie, he doesn’t seem like he’s ready for bed. he doesn’t seem like he wants you to get ready for bed either.

“no,” he says into the crook of your neck, his lips pulling into a smile as you helplessly try to shove him off. those countless nights at the gym are really showing up and now and you wonder what he looks like under all those baggy clothes.

“need to pee!” you shout pathetically, giggling a little bit as his fingers pinch at your sides. he shakes his head, however, at your request, and instead moves his arms to wrap even tighter around your waist.

you feel a warmth creep up your neck and to your cheeks, stilling for a second as you feel his breath on your skin, his lips against your neck. it’s all so close, so intimate that you feel your heart rattle around your chest.

your hands push at his shoulders, squished between your two bodies as you flail around helplessly.

“i can’t feel my lungs,” you say, kicking your legs up a bit, and he chuckles, pushing himself up just a bit so he could look at you better.

“you’re still alive though, yeah?” his voice is teasing, a litttle groggy from a long day and you roll your eyes.

in moments like this you forget the whole stupid fake dating scheme. you forget about suki and geto and about your stupid feelings. it’s all as if nothing changed, as if the two of you were still as close as you were when you were still just friends.

“i need to pee, i need to take my makeup off, i-” you ramble, going down the laundry list of things you needed to do before sleep got a hold of you.

gojo stares, perplexed at your running list, and his eyes flash a bright blue, lips pulling into a mischievous smile as he shushes you.

“i can help with your makeup,” he announces, dropping his head back down closer, moving at the speed of light as he brings his face close to yours, his tongue running a long strip from your chin to your cheekbones.

you freeze, shock in your eyes as you look at him. there’s another moment of silence before you screech, mustering up enough strength that you were lacking before to shove him off of you. he tumbles off the couch and to the ground, his hand splayed across his chest as he laughs, something hearty and warm as you scramble to wipe him off.

“you’re so weird!” you scream, your nose scrunching up in annoyance and disgust as yuh run to the kitchen sink, wetting a paper towel as you try to scrub him away from you.

you can still hear his laughter when you walk back, throwing the wet towel on his face. you feel a little satisfaction as he sputters, scrambling to take it off.

“bet your loverboy suguru wouldn’t do that for you,” gojo quips, throwing the towel on the coffee table as he sits up, resting his weight on his elbows as you sit on the other end of the couch.

you scoff, kissing the back of your teeth. you don’t know hat your more ticked about; the fact that he still thinks you’re in love with suguru or the fact that he seems a little annoyed to admit it.

“nobody would do what you did ‘toru,” you mutter in annoyance. still, his nickname rolls off of your tongue, and his grins widens a little bit.

he schooches a little close to you, so that he’s near where you feet hang off the couch and mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your socks.

“you’re so touchy tonight,” you observe, squinting your eyes, “everything good?”

gojo looks up at you, confusion in his eyes. he looks back down to where his hand was, as if he hadn’t noticed what he was doing. he shrugs, trying to act indifferent when he answers.

“just felt like it,” he looks at you, “is that so wrong?”

you try to act indifferent to, not wanting him to know just how much this is affecting you, these little touches and moments.

“not wrong,” you say after a beat, “just…new.”

gojo nods, pursing his lips together as he thinks.

“good new?” he finally asks, and you can’t help the little smile that makes its way onto your face. damn gojo and his antics.

“sure,” you reply, “good new,”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader fluff #gojo drabble #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabble #fakedating!gojo

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strangerexee · 3 months ago

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ꜱɪʀ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰɪɴᴇ | ʙᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

The bell over the door gave a tired little jingle when you pushed it open, stepping in from the heat and dust of the street.

𝓑𝓸 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝔀 & 𝓒𝓸 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐀 ɢʀᴏᴄᴇʀʏ & ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴛ Your shoes were worn thin. Your dress was simple cotton, sticking to the back of your knees.

And you were tired, bone-tired, from chasing one dead-end job after another across this godforsaken town.

You needed work. Or a miracle. Or both.

The store smelled like tobacco and dry wood, with a hint of something sweeter, maybe the candy in the jar by the counter, or the bright bruised apples piled up in baskets.

Shelves lined the walls, packed with everything from flour sacks to pistol rounds. It was the kind of place where a man could buy a loaf of bread, a hammer, and a coffin without walking more than twenty feet.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, wiping sweat from your forehead, trying not to look as desperate as you felt. It was quiet inside, but not empty.

There, behind the counter, sleeves rolled up over strong forearms, stood a man.

And Lord Almighty. You almost forgot how to breathe.

He was fine. Broad through the shoulders, lean through the waist, and the worn suspenders crossing his chest did nothing to hide it. Dark hair, a little mussed like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times that morning already.

Sharp jaw. Sleeves pushed up. And a cigarette dangling careless between his lips.

He watched you over the top of the ledger he was scribbling in, one eyebrow tilting up slow, like he wasn't quite sure if you were real or a heat mirage rolling in off the road.

"You lost, darlin'?" His voice was rough, low. Not unfriendly. But not soft, either.

You swallowed. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun outside.

"No, sir," you managed, clearing your throat. "I'm lookin' for work.”

He tilted his head a little. The cigarette bobbed between his fingers as he tapped ash into a tin. There was a long, heavy pause, stretching thin between you like taffy pulled too far.

He leaned forward, arms braced on the counter, and you caught the faint scar along the side of his throat, a rough, pale line disappearing beneath his shirt.

He smelled like leather and, something familiar you couldn’t name.

"Ain't much work left 'round here," he said finally."Dust's got more jobs than we do."

Your heart sank. You started to thank him anyway, ready to turn, ready to leave with your pride shriveled up tight inside you. But then he said, almost too casual:

"You know how to tally numbers? Take stock? Keep folks from stealin' when I ain't lookin'?"

You blinked up at him. Nodded fast.

"Yes sir. I can read, write, count. And I can run a register." (You prayed you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.)

Bo Chow smiled then, real slow, real lazy. Like maybe he hadn't smiled all day until now. Maybe longer.

And damn if it didn’t feel like that smile was just for you.

"Might have somethin' for you after all," he said, nodding toward the back room. "Mornings, couple hours. Pay ain't much, but it's clean work. And you get first pick if any more fruit comes in."

You tried to smile back, tried not to look like a fool.

"I'd be grateful," you said. "Truly."

"Name's Bo Chow," he said, holding out a calloused hand across the counter. "Most folks just call me Bo."

You put your hand in his, and he squeezed it firm, just enough to make your stomach flip once, twice. His skin was warm. Rough in the right way.

Your name felt small and clumsy on your tongue when you said it.

He repeated it once under his breath, tasting it, like he was putting it away somewhere safe.

You heard boots scuffing behind you, a couple old-timers coming in, hats low over their faces, and Bo dropped your hand slow, like he hated letting go.

"Be here six sharp tomorrow," he said, voice dropping a little lower. "Don't make me come hunt you down."

And Lord, the way he said it, like it was a promise, like it was a threat, like maybe he wouldn't mind hunting you down at all.

You walked out of that store with your heart rattling around in your ribs, a stupid grin tugging at your mouth. The dust hit your boots. The sun hit your eyes. But you hardly felt it.

All you could think about was him. About the man named Bo chow, the cigarette smoke curling around his smile. About how maybe you’d found something, or someone, worth staying for.

The next morning, you showed up just before six, hair pinned back, boots polished best you could manage, apron folded under your arm.

The sun wasn’t even fully up yet, just a pale silver smear over the flat line of the fields.

The streets were empty except for a stray dog.

You hesitated at the door, heart hammering. What if he changed his mind? What if he realized you weren’t worth the trouble?

But the second you pushed inside, the warm smell of tobacco and cedar wrapped around you like an old blanket, and there he was.

Bo Chow.

Behind the counter, sleeves rolled again over those damn forearms, shirt tucked messy into dark trousers, suspenders hanging low on his hips like he hadn’t bothered to fix them yet. He was counting cash, cigarette stuck lazy between his teeth, the smoke curling up in slow silver ribbons.

He glanced up when he heard the door, and you swear, you swear, for a half second he smiled. A real one. That soft kind, just at the corner of his mouth. Just for you.

"You're early," he said, voice rough with sleep. "Good."

You nodded, setting your things down behind the counter.

Your hands shook a little, but you kept busy, dusting, sweeping, checking the register like he told you. He didn’t hover. Just gave quiet instructions here and there, moving around the store slow and easy, like he had all the time in the world.

And it was the little things. God, it was the little things, that drove you a little crazy.

You noticed it first when he leaned down to pull a crate from under the counter—how his shirt stretched tight over his back, fabric pull against muscle.

How a lock of dark hair fell over his brow and he huffed it out of the way without even noticing.

You caught yourself staring. Snapped your head down fast, pretending to reorganize the fruits and vegetables.

Then it was the way he stood, shoulders wide, hips cocked lazy, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you figure out how to load the till.

There was something about the way he moved, no wasted steps, no fidgeting,like he didn’t have to try to own the space around him. He just did.

And Lord, when he laughed. Low, and unexpected, a real rough chuckle that rumbled from his chest when you nearly dropped the glass candy jar and caught it at the last second. God, you felt it down to your toes.

"Careful, sunshine," he drawled. "Ain't but one of you, and glass is expensive."

You ducked your head, face burning. But you couldn’t help smiling.

Around mid-morning, after he nailed up a new shelf in the back, Bo wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

You offered him the water you packed, nervous, feeling silly. He took it with a little nod, mouth brushing the rim where yours had been without hesitation. Y’all just practically kissed right there.

And when he handed it back, his fingers brushed yours. Calloused. Warm.

You felt it like a jolt of lightning, sharp and sweet under your skin.

"You doin' alright?" he asked, voice low. "Ain't scarin' you off yet?"

You shook your head fast.

"No, sir."

That slow smile again, like he was proud of you, somehow. It made your chest ache.

The rest of the day passed in slow, golden hours.

He showed you how to track inventory, how to read the order forms, how to spot the difference between good grain sacks and ones chewed through by mice.

And every little thing, the way he squinted against the sun when he stepped outside, the way he twirled the pencil between his fingers when he thought, the way he touched the brim of his hat polite to the older ladies who passed by, every little thing made you fall harder.

You were a fool. You knew that. But God help you, you couldn’t stop.

Near closing time, when the shadows stretched long across the floorboards, Bo lit the oil lamps and turned the sign to CLOSED.

The town settled into quiet outside, the cicadas starting up their low hum.

You packed up your things, heart heavy. You didn’t want to leave.

He leaned back against the counter, cigarette smoke curling around his head like a halo, watching you with that unreadable look.

Not smiling. Not frowning. Just watching.

And before you left, just as you reached the door, he said:

"You did good today."

You turned, surprised.

He flicked ash into a tin, voice casual, almost too casual:

"Could use someone steady around here. Someone like you." "If you want it, job’s yours."

You tried to speak, tried to say yes, of course, yes, thank you, yes, but all that came out was a breathless little whisper.

"I'd like that."

Bo nodded slow, eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he said. "Real good."

You just huffed and left the store.

You showed up early again the next morning. Couldn’t help yourself.

You barely slept, just laid in your bed all night staring at the ceiling, heart banging around your ribs like a fist.

You kept seeing him, that rough smile, that lazy slouch against the counter, the way his hands moved, big and calloused and sure, like he could tear the whole damn world down if he wanted, but he didn’t. He was gentle with you.

You dressed careful, simple skirt, neat tucked-in blouse, hair tied back. Nothing fancy. But you caught yourself smoothing it down a dozen times on the walk to the store.

You weren’t scared of work. You weren’t scared of Bo, either. Not really.

What scared you, if you were honest, was how badly you wanted him to look at you again the way he had yesterday. Like he saw you.

The bell over the door jingled when you pushed inside, and there he was.

Bo Chow.

Good Lord.

You almost had to grab the doorframe to keep from sliding down it.

Today he had the vest on, rich brown canvas, snug over his shoulders and chest, shirt rolled at the sleeves again, forearms out, tan skin dusted with faint scars like old stories he never bothered to tell. Trousers fit firm around his slutty waist, boots scuffed from work.

He looked up from stocking the shelves, and when he saw you, a flash of something warm crossed his face. Almost hidden. Almost.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he said, voice low and gravelly. "Thought you might show."

You swallowed hard, managed a nod.

He stood up slow, dusting his hands off on a rag.

That damn vest hugged him in all the right places. Made your stomach flip and knot in ways that felt dangerous.

You got to work without being told, moving behind the counter, checking the inventory list. Trying to pretend like your heart wasn’t about to explode out your chest.

It didn’t help that Bo kept brushing close, not on purpose, not really, but every time you turned around he was there.

At one point, you bent to grab a crate from under the counter, and when you stood up, you bumped right into him.

Hard, solid chest, vest scratchy and warm against your back, his hand catching your waist automatically to steady you.

Big palm. Firm grip. Fingers splaying wide before he yanked them back like he touched a hot stove.

You both froze.

For one wild second, the whole store was silent, just the sound of the clock ticking on the wall, his breath brushing the back of your neck.

Then he cleared his throat, stepping back.

"Easy, now," he said rough, almost scolding. "Ain't tryna bust that pretty nose, are ya?”

You flushed so hot you thought you might catch fire. Mumbled something, you didn’t even know what, and ducked your head fast.

Later, you were coming out of the storage closet, arms full of ledgers, right as Bo was striding in.

Instead of waiting, instead of shrinking back, you moved right past him. Real smooth. Real bold.

Except, the space was too damn narrow.

Your hip brushed his thigh, your shoulder scraped his chest, and your ass, oh, Lord, your ass skimmed right up against his front when you slid by.

You felt him go still, felt his hand twitch at his side like he had to physically stop himself from grabbing you.

You didn’t dare look up. You just kept moving, pretending you didn’t notice, pretending your whole body wasn’t screaming at you.

Behind you, you swore you heard him swear low under his breath. Real soft. Real dangerous.

You bit your lip so hard it hurt just to keep from smiling.

By noon, the air inside the store was thick and heavy with heat.

Bo shed the vest finally, slinging it over a hook near the door. You caught a glimpse of the way his shirt clung to him, the long line of his back, the strong slope of his shoulders.

You caught yourself staring again, caught yourself wanting, and forced yourself to look away.

But Bo must’ve noticed, because a minute later he drifted close, reached past you for something on the shelf, his hand landing light on your waist to move you out the way.

He didn’t even think about it. Just did it. Like you were his already.

Your breath hitched so fast you nearly dropped the jar in your hands.

"‘Scuse me, sunshine’," he said, real soft in your ear. "You’re in the way."

You stood there dumb, blinking, as he brushed past, close enough to smell the salt and sun and cigarette smoke on him.

It wasn’t until later, after closing, when you were wiping down the counters and Bo was locking the door, that he spoke again.

"You work good," he said, voice low and thick. "Real good. Smarter than most the men that come through here."

You turned, heart hammering.

Bo was leaning back against the door, arms crossed, watching you. Face unreadable. Eyes dark.

You opened your mouth, to thank him, maybe, but he cut you off.

"How old are you, anyway?"

You stiffened. You knew what he was asking. Knew why he was asking it. You met his eyes steady, chin tilting up just a little.

"Turned eighteen last month," you said. "I'm grown, sir."

For a second, just a breath, something flickered across his face. Something hungry and dangerous and real.

Then it was gone, shuttered behind that calm mask he wore like a second skin.

He nodded once. Slow. Like he was making peace with something ugly inside himself.

"Alright, sunshine," he said rough. "Long as you know what you’re doin’."

You smiled, small and sweet and secret, because you did. You really, really did.

And Lord help you, you weren't planning on stopping.

The day dragged in slow, hot and heavy, same as always, but you didn’t mind.

Not when you got to watch him. Bo moved like he wasn’t even trying. Stacking crates, counting stock, slouching against counters, and all you could do was sneak glances every chance you got.

The way his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows as always, showing off strong forearms, tan and scarred, veins running beneath the skin like little rivers. The way the muscles flexed under the fabric when he lifted something heavy.

His hands, god, his hands. Big and rough, palms calloused from years of work. Knuckles scarred like he’d been in more fights than he’d ever admit.

You imagined what they’d feel like, skimming your skin, wrapping around your throat, curling in your hair. It got harder and harder to focus on anything else.

You were wiping down the counter again, pretending to clean when you were really just looking at him, when you realized:

No customers. None. Just you and Bo. Alone. Heat swirling between you like smoke.

Your heartbeat picked up a bit.

And before you could talk yourself out of it, before you could remember to be scared or shy or good, You moved.

Not too fast, a normal shaky pace.

You crossed the space between you in a few quick steps, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward the back.

He let you. No questions. No hesitation. Just a soft grunt, a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he followed.

"What’s this, sunshine?" His voice was rough, curious, amused. "You stealin' me?"

You didn’t answer. You just pulled him through the narrow back door, into the storeroom, dim and warm and empty, and shoved him back against the wall.

You stood there, breathing hard. Heart hammering so loud you swore he could hear it.

Bo looked down at you, those dark eyes burning, and for a second you thought maybe he’d laugh, maybe he’d brush you off, maybe he’d tell you to run along like the little girl you weren’t anymore.

But he didn’t.

He tipped his chin down, lips brushing yours, and said low:

"You sure, sunshine?"

You nodded. Didn’t trust your voice.

That was all he needed.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting for it. Hard. Hungry. Hands grabbing your hips, dragging you against him.

Your head spun. The world tilted.

His mouth was hot and rough, teeth scraping your lower lip just enough to make you whimper, and God, the sound you made must’ve lit him on fire because he growled low in his chest, cupped your face with both hands, and kissed you harder.

You clutched at him, hands fisting in his shirt, dragging him closer, and he let you, let you crawl all over him, like he was starving for it.

Like he’d die if you stopped.

At one point, you stumbled, tried to pull back to catch your breath, but he chased you, mouth claiming yours again, hands framing your face so careful, so tender even with how rough the kiss was.

You were dizzy with it, with him, with the feel of his body pressed against yours, all hard heat and steady muscle.

And then, You did it.

Hands shaking, you grabbed his wrist, guided it up, placed his big, rough hand around your throat. Gently. Like a question.

Like a please.

Bo froze. For one hot, crackling second, everything in the room stopped moving.

His thumb brushed the side of your throat, slow, thoughtful. Not squeezing, just holding, just letting you feel the strength there, the weight of him.

He pulled back just enough to look you dead in the eye, something dangerous and filthy gleaming behind his gaze. And he grinned, slow, wicked, all teeth and bad intentions.

"You into that shit, sunshine?" His voice was dark velvet, wrapping around you, making you shiver.

You nodded, breathless, grinding your hips against him like you couldn’t help it. (You couldn’t.)

His fingers flexed slightly, tightening just a fraction, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who was bigger, stronger, in charge.

You whimpered, so soft, so needy, and he laughed, low and rough, like you were the best damn thing he’d ever seen.

"Goddamn," he muttered, voice rough and reverent. "You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me."

Then he kissed you again, deeper, dirtier, hand still cradling your throat, the other roaming down your spine to pull you flush against him.

You melted into him, opened for him, let him take whatever he wanted.

Bo’s hand stayed loose around your throat a moment longer, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, his breath ragged against your mouth, before he finally let go.

Not because he wanted to stop touching you, nah. Because he wanted more.

He gave you a rough, breathless little grin, one you could feel in your knees, then reached down and grabbed you by the waist like you weighed nothing. Lifted you right up.

Set you down on the nearest wooden stool, still warm from the heat of the barn outside, a little unsteady, but solid enough.

Your hands grabbed the edge of the stool instinctively, steadying yourself, eyes wide, heart pounding so hard you could barely hear.

Bo leaned back a half-step, just enough to drink you in.

The way your dress rode up, baring the soft skin of your thighs. The way you sat there all breathless, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen and desperate for him.

He dragged a hand down his face, as if trying to keep himself together, and then just said low, almost to himself:

"Christ, you're pretty."

You didn’t even realize you were doing it, but your eyes kept dropping. To his hands. Those big, rough, dangerous hands, scarred and calloused and strong.

You could feel the strength of them from here. Could imagine them wrapped around your hips, your waist, your throat again, holding you down, holding you up, whatever he damn well pleased.

Your mouth went dry. And Bo noticed. His mouth curled into a wicked, knowing smirk.

"Yeah?" he rasped, voice dropping. "You like the look of my hands, sunshine?" Like he didn’t already know that.

You swallowed hard, nodded. You didn't even try to hide it.

And that was all he needed. Bo stepped between your knees, crowding you close, body heat washing over you like a furnace, and ducked his head down.

Started kissing along your jaw, slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses trailing lower and lower. You gasped when he found the spot just under your ear, sucked there hard enough to leave a mark, and he grinned against your skin when you tilted your head for him, helpless and wanting.

"Good girl," he muttered into your neck. "So pretty ‘fa me."

You could’ve melted right then and there. Could’ve died.

His hands were everywhere, roaming up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, dragging along the soft curves of your waist like he was memorizing you.

You arched into him, not even tryna to play coy anymore.

You wanted him. All of him.

And Bo, he was starving for you. Before you could blink, he dropped to his knees.

Big, broad body sinking down in front of you, spreading your knees wider apart with those strong hands, pulling your panties down — looking up at you with something almost feral in his eyes.

"Gotta taste you, baby," he rasped, voice half-broken with need. "Been fuckin' dying for it."

You whimpered, hand flying to his hair instinctively, fisting in the thick dark strands as he shoved your dress up higher, higher, exposing you.

No hesitation. Bo dove in like a man half out of his mind.

The first press of his mouth against you made you cry out sharp and sweet hips bucking up without you meaning to.

Bo groaned, like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted and grabbed your thighs, holding you down, forcing you to stay right there for him.

His mouth was hungry, lips and tongue working you open, devouring you like you were his last meal.

Messy. Loud. Absolutely, devastatingly good.

You tried to pull away once, overwhelmed, shaking, breath hitching in your throat, but he only groaned and pulled you back down harder.

"Nah, baby." "You take it." "You let me eat this pretty little pussy just like this." "You fuckin’ taste how bad I want you."

You sobbed his name, it was pathetic, really. Hips grinding helplessly against his mouth, and Bo just groaned again, deeper, like he could come from this alone.

The wet slide of his tongue. The scrape of his teeth just barely grazing. The way he sucked your clit into his mouth and held it there until you were shaking.

He licked you like he owned you. Like he wasn’t gonna let you walk outta this storeroom until you knew exactly who you belonged to.

And when you finally came, loud and desperate, thighs clamping around his head.

Bo just kept going. Didn’t stop. Didn’t let up. Made you ride it out, every shudder, every whimper, every sweet little broken cry.

When you finally slumped forward, boneless and ruined, hands still fisting in his hair.

Bo looked up at you, mouth slick with you, eyes dark and wild, and said, low and rough:

"Ain’t done with you yet, sunshine." "Not even close."

And you believed him. You wanted him. God help you, you wanted everything Bo Chow was about to give you.

A/N: LAWDDDD — I love me some Bo Chow...

#bo chow #sinners #michael b jordan #sinners movie #yao #bo chow oneshot #bo chow x reader #bo chow imagine #bo chow smut #sinners smut #sinners imagine #sinners 2025 #ryan coogler #sinners spoilers #sinners x reader

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madamechrissy · 2 months ago

Text

Endless Summer

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Summary- You are staying home from summer break before Senior year of college with your Gran, Josephine, when a huge surprise happens, after over a year of being unable to see Caleb, he comes back to stay. You're so happy, but there's just a couple problems - one, you want him in ways you shouldn't, and you're just starting to get over it with the distance. And two, Caleb is pretty fucking pissed that you have a date.

Warnings- eventual smut, light angst, taboo relationships (Stepcest) longing, mutual pining, JEALOUSY like a mf, yandere Caleb, he's a virgin bc that's canon to meee, him being utterly obsessed bc that's how we love him. This chap - teasing, sexual thoughts, SO MUCH TENSION, mentions of masturbation and jealousy

Third time writing Caleb but this will be my first LADS series!! I'm excited to write something longer

Part Two>>>

Part One

"Caleb!" You run up to him and he picks you up in his big arms, strong and so tightly wrapping you, you almost can't breathe. He's laughing, the sound you missed so badly in person - over the phone just wasn't the same. His big white grin melting your fucking heart, the arms you feel so safe in squeezing you so tightly.

"Pip squeak!" He's lifted you up in his arms, spinning you now, as Gran smiles at you two, crossing her arms and watching as you peck kisses along his head. "Stop, you're slobbering all over me!"

"You should thank me, you stink you know!"

"Hey!" He glares playfully, you're giggling, heart so full from seeing him again, as he eases you down, and for a moment you feel your cheeks heat up.

God he's gotten even buffer, hasn't he? Are his shoulders broader, what the fuck?

It seems completely unfair, in his black military uniform with ribbons and gold buttons decorating the chest, of the many accolades he's already gotten. His hat sits just so over his head, hiding those dark brown locks that used to tint gold over the summers you spent together, your hands touch that thick, sturdy material over his strong forearms as you smile.

You had a dream of him last night - but it wasn't some prophetic dream, no you wish it was something sweet like that. It was you in his bed, trying to inhale any scent left of him, soaking wet from picturing Caleb's head right between your thighs.

You'd woke up drenched, and cumming, your cunt pulsing without even touching yourself, as you wore one of those sweaters of his that hit right mid thigh, so fucking embarrassing. You refused to touch yourself to him, in his childhood bed, the one he'd hold you in when you had a nightmare, when you got scared.

It started before then, the obsession with Caleb, but you were able over these years to shove it back, to hold it in, to explain it away with this or that. Seeing him again, being in his arms, inhaling that musky scent of his was enough to do you in.

Little do you know, Caleb has no problem jerking his cock to you, in fact he does so every night - as much of a routine as washing his face and brushing his teeth. In that order actually, brush teeth, wash face, jerk off to your photos.

He used to have the scent of you on the panties he stole, but he's been gone far, far too long to have that anymore. Now, it's pictures of you, the selfies you send him, so innocent and sweet too, not knowing the boy you grew up with jerks and cums to them nightly.

The distance made it somewhat bearable, the torture he's been put under with his obsession with you, but now, holding you again?

He damn near forgets Gran is in the fucking room, he'd love to pick you up and press your body against that wall, or take you up to your childhood bed, the one he'd watch you sleep in, and tuck you in back then - but instead, now he would fuck you so hard he breaks the goddamn thing.

He can't stand your sweet scent filling his nostrils, the way your cheeks tint that perfect hue in his presence - He's hopeless for you, and he can't do a fucking thing about it in this proximity.

"Shower time for Caleb!" You tease, dragging him up by your hand now, and Gran laughs as the two of you shove each other playfully back and forth until you help him get settled in his old room.

"You all never change anything, huh?" he teases, running fingers over the photos of both of you lining the cork board on the walls. Over all these years, no matter how many women have tried, he's been unable to be with any of those girls, no matter if he's been as horny as can be, he's still waiting for something he doesn't even show.

He's pretty sure if anyone knew he was a virgin, they wouldn't believe him - including you. You tease him about his fanclub of girls he's always had, not realizing he doesn't even pay attention to a single one, how the fuck could he when you exist?

He has to wonder... it can't be the same for you, can it?

He'd die to lap you up right between your thighs, that are pressing together as you sit up on his dresser, smiling at him and swinging your calves back and forth, he admires the shape of them far more than is normal for any human being. He barely registers that your perfect lips are moving, then focuses.

"Of course Gran changes nothing, I haven't been here since spring for a couple days actually, I feel bad she's alone!"

"How's college going, make any friends?" You nod shyly, looking down, and he watches the lights from outside his window flicker along your skin, washing it in the golden light. He nervously unbuttons his jacket, feeling your eyes on his chest as he does.

"It's good, and I do have some friends. Oh! You still wear this?" You reach over, touching the dog tags you got him so long ago, back when he started training and you were in high school.

"Of course I do." He takes your hand, smiling the way only Caleb does, his hand feels too good, like everything is heightened from your stupid fucking dream now. "And do you, wear yours?"

You nod, and his fingers drift across your neck, eyes lit in a vivid amethyst as he sees a bare neck. "Here," you tug it out from under your shirt, smiling as he traces it with his long fingers, calloused and rough against delicate skin. "I always wear it."

"Even in the shower?" He teases, but the thoughts whirl in his mind, of you naked. He's seen you before of course, he's always averted his eyes, tortured by the memories, but you're entirely grown now, your body so sexy he's dying picturing it. You just get more beautiful every time he sees you.

"Yeah, in the shower, silly. Speaking of- go take one." You shove him off, before darting in your room, taking several breaths, shutting your eyes tightly.

You can't want him.

*****

The next day, you're all dressed up, trying to straighten your hair unsuccessfully, honestly Caleb spoiled you so badly as a teen that he dried and straightened your hair for you. You still kind of suck at it, always missing the back. He also cooked for you and Gran constantly, and you do tend to order out or make ramen, you just never liked food like you liked his.

Caleb walks by, just wearing a sweater, you're mortified as you remember you were wearing it and cumming the other day, but he doesn't seem to notice your expression. He's raised a brow, as you count the new freckles speckled across that straight nose of his, new ones you missed before.

"Need some help, punk? The back of your hair is a mess." You glare playfully, but nod, handing him the black straightening wand and your brush.

"Please."

"So spoiled, still huh?" He teases, and begins to move it slowly, detangling your hair as you sigh in bliss, remembering out it feels. "Why are you all dolled up, girls night?"

You smile a bit, curious if he'd notice your pretty outfit. When he said anything sweet to you it meant more than a compliment from anyone. "No, um... I have a date."

"A date?" Caleb's words come out hoarse, as he runs the burning hot straightener through your hair, his dark violet eyes unreadable as he stands so tall behind you in the reflection.

"Yeah, Caleb you haven't been home in a year and I hadn't really mentioned it because it's not too serious, but I am talking to someone," you murmur, not bearing to meet his reflection. How could you, truly, when the man you want is right here? "Me and gran are glad you visited you know!"

"Are you," his voice is darker than usual, the lilting and sweet way he speaks to you, it's different. Just like the darkness in his usually brilliant eyes, running the hot ceramic over your hair. "It's been so long you forgot about me?"

"What, Caleb!? No! I missed you so bad. I wrote to you constantly, you know," you frown now, and he sighs, moving to another section of your hair. "I miss this."

"Will someone else do this now?" You're blinking in confusion, his hurt tone, so soft yet something dangerous to it, something you can't quite place, as you eye him in the mirror.

"Will someone straighten my hair?"

"Yeah, a boyfriend maybe?"

"I..." you trail off, looking at him in confusion. Though unspoken surely, you've never worded just how you feel, nothing but countless entries in your diaries about the love you surely shouldn't feel, but have since you met him that day as a little kid.

"Your date is here, honey!" Gran says, just for Caleb to accidentally burn your neck then, you gasp in pain and he curses, so furious about the thought of anyone with you, he didn't pay attention. Now he's hurt you, the last thing he ever wants to do.

God he just wants to kiss it better.

"Shit, I'm sorry pip squeak." He's immediately setting the straightener down, turning and touching your neck, you cry out in pain as he observes the burn forming on your skin. "I'm so sorry."

"it's okay, mmm," you try to put on a tough smile, but you see his sweet puppy dog eyes, that little expression that tugs on your heart.

"Let me take care of you, please," he says softly, you shake your head, and his brows lower. "Let me help."

"It's nothing-"

"I'll get some aloe, hold on." You're running cool water on your neck as your gran comes up, she took the two of you in a very long time ago, but Caleb's military training has left her alone, mostly, when you're not in school. She treasures every visit, especially the two of you together.

"Are you all right honey?" She asks, you nod asCaleb frantically runs and grabs it, eyeing the man that walks in calmly now into the kitchen.

He pauses, glaring, dark lashes narrowed as he takes him in - he wants to fucking kill him just knowing he'd get a chance at taking you out, when you're his and always would be. Those memories of being a kid, when you two first met and he said those words -

I'm Caleb, and I'll always be by your side.

Well, Caleb meant it, yes he had to be out of town and missed a lot of time to make sure you all had anything you needed financially, but that doesn't mean he's not just as much a part of you as you are of him.

"And who's this, Gran?" He asks, as she's back down stairs, he can still hear the water running upstairs.

You always do that when you get burnt, when he's told you many times it's not the best solution, but you're stubborn.

Caleb smiles as he grabs the bottle of dark blue aloe, and Gran looks at him with a smile. "It's her date for the night." She introduces a name he barely registers, shaking the young guys hand, a good six inches shorter than Caleb, squeezing the shit out of it with a smirk.

"Oh, hi there. I'm Caleb." He says, and the man clears his throat, shaking his hand out.

"And you are..."

Caleb pauses- just what is he to you? After all these years, you are his everything, all he lives, breathes and dreams, but what do you feel for him now? Grown up, grabbing plates off shelves yourself, living at your dorm and enjoying your own life, your own world, where does he fit in anymore?

A week here, a week there, writing you letters every time he leaves for a mission, knowing he may never see you again. You've never seen them, he's never told you that he wants more, so much more, than just being 'family' or whatever the fuck this was. That he wants to kill anyone that comes near you.

How does Caleb ever explain that?

"He's our family," Gran says with a smile, touching his shoulder. "Did she hurt herself bad?"

No, Caleb hurt her, and it feels horrible knowing he did. The last thing he ever wants is to hurt you.

"She just burned herself with a straightener, so it'll... be a few." He murmurs, Gran nods a bit, and Caleb runs back up, seeing you bent over the sink now, in a skirt that's way too fucking short. He can see the outline of your cunt under panties he'd die to have against his face, filling him with the need to just devour you.

If he could, he'd have his own perfect little fucking world, with just you and him.

"Caleb?" You ask, standing, the water dripping down your top, little droplets that trail down your perfect breasts.

He says nothing, cock throbbing under his jeans, mind in a mix of hatred for this random boy, and desire for you, equal parts fucking his entire brain up now.

"The aloe?"

"Yeah, here..." he shuts the bathroom door, leaving the two of you completely alone, far too close, you have to angle your head up to look at Caleb, as tall as he's gotten. He takes two fingers, pumping the clear gel onto them, brushing your hair back with his other hand, so intimate your breath catches.

There's just one problem lately, and that's the fact that you want Caleb, more than a family should, more than friends should. You want him to touch you in places you touch yourself, thinking of him shirtless and sweaty after a workout, thinking of his long fingers buried inside you so deep.

You hate the thoughts, you hate how lonely you get when he leaves, how badly you want him to come home, but when he does, especially over summer break, when you climb into bed during a storm? It's very clear you're not a little girl anymore, not when his hard body does things to you.

Not when you wake up embarrassingly wet in his arms and pray he doesn't notice.

Now, he's touching your fingers gently with the gel, as he watches your pretty breasts heave up and down, the icy cool gel soothing your burned skin. Your eyes shut, sighing in pleasure, while Caleb bites down on his lip to prevent his own sigh, of how perfect your skin feels for him.

He wants to tear this slutty little outfit off of you. He doesn't want the random guy to see it, he doesn't want him touching you, he doesn't want anyone to touch you, but him. He wants a perfect world where it's the two of you, and no one else, tracing his finger across your collar bone, while your eyes flutter open now, looking at the darkened gaze.

"Feel better, Pip squeak?" He manages hoarsely, you shake your head nervously. "No, need more?"

"Please," you whisper, he takes a little more of it, stepping even closer, your back is against the bathroom sink, as he leans low, so big over you. "Hurts."

"I don't want you to hurt, ever," he touches that spot again, but then his hand slips lower, down your arm, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. "Why are you going out tonight? When I'm here?"

You swallow nervously, feeling his breath against your neck, his huge hand gripping your wrist. "Because I... have to have a life, Caleb, you can't just take me on a date you know. I... need things."

"You need things?" He presses a kiss right over that burn, his lips dry and cool, as his hand brushes the side of your breast, and you gasp at it. "I will give you everything you ever need."

"You can't give me everything, can you?" A thigh comes between yours now, and he whines softly in your ear as he feels your heat. "Can you, Caleb?"

"I'll give you anything-" Knock Knock Knock.

Caleb steps back, as you panic, and he sees how hard your nipples are, infuriated that this guy is going to get to look at you like that. You turn, brushing your hair now. "Is the burn okay hunny?"

"Yes, Gran, Caleb put aloe on it." You smile as you brush past him, seeing the tense look on his face and shoving it back.

You and Caleb can't be more than this, you can't let yourself even think it.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You wave down to the sweet boy from college who asked you out from on top of the stairwell, going to your room to put on a pair of high heels.

Caleb follows you, leaning on your doorway, so broad shouldered he takes over the fucking doorway. "Shouldn't I know about him, to keep you safe?"

"I'll be fine, you trained me well. And look." You pat the gun on your thigh, showing him far too much of those thighs he wants to grip onto. "I know how to use it if I gotta."

"That's my girl," he bends down, helping latch the little buckle on your heel, his breath right against your thigh, making you soaking fucking wet, as he looks up at you like that, making you think the worst things that you cannot think.

God if he inches his lips up a little higher...

He eyes the slick on your inner thigh glistening in the light, he doesn't say anything about it, god he'd never embarrass you, disrespect you, despite thinking of all the ways he'd love to take you. From the back with your ass arched up, mating press so you'd take all his cum, but mostly grip your hands, so small compared to his, and look right in your eyes as he fucks you slow. As he makes love to you.

He just kneels before you for a moment, swiping it off your thigh and hearing your intake of breath, he wants to taste it immediately, but he waits. It's too long of a moment, before standing up and holding one of your hands tightly. He's now the supportive Caleb, the sweet Caleb - But you want more.

"If you need anything, I'll be here, just call me, okay honey?" Honey, the way that rolls off his tongue almost does you in, as sweet as the substance itself. You somehow maintain that composure, when haven't you had to with him since you became a teenager?

You can do it, you can keep it normal, it's just a couple of weeks.

"It's a dinner date, relax." You smile, kissing his cheek, in the sweet and friendly way you always have, reminding yourself - You can't feel this way - you smile at your date, so sweet he's brought you flowers. You resign yourself to go have fun, to have a life - it can't just be waiting around for Caleb forever.

Surely, he's had a life, he's had women - just look at him, the thought alone makes you unreasonably jealous, you hate feeling that way, it's like him coming home brought it all up when you had done such a good job of tucking it away. You feign a giggle and a bright smile as you two walk out the doors, and down the front porch.

You feel it, some eyes on you, you look up to see the curtains close in your room now. Surely he just wants to make sure you're okay, as you step inside the car, the feeling making you just stare up at that window, wondering if he went through anything in his mind even close to you - and not seeing him eagerly sucking your arousal off his fingers.

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 8 months ago

Text

One Piece Fighting Game AU

this au is inpired by the song Heart Attack by Chuu

hope you enjoy the designs i created most of them in a 2 hr long manic episode of just nonstop designing.

Master Post For this AU

some lore ive cooked up for it and design explainations:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

The school our main cast goes to is called the Doki-Doki Battle Academy and it's principle is currently Crocodile. It's previous principle was Nefertari Cobra, but maybe something nefarious happened to give crocodile the spot who knowwsssss~

Doki-Doki Battle Academy (DDBA) hosts many tournaments in their school stadium throughout the school year. The tournies act as tests for the students who are taking that field of study. There are other fields the school offers though, such as weapon crafting, medical staffing, and managing. Though, if the students in those fields with so learn fighting on the side that is also accepted.

In the Pro Fighting world, there are typically pro-league teams such as the Red Hairs and The Beasts. These teams have different levels to it such as Little Leagues (for younger fighters), Minor leagues (for adults on a regional level), and Major leagues (for profighting at a national level). You can also go solo though, much like Mihawk does.

The power system in this AU is pretty simple, different color of auras do different things, but the complexities happen when you start using the different auras in tandem. I might explain it more in depth in a different post, but i dont really know what to explain about it. mostly because i dont know everything about it, myself, yet lol

-----design talk now yippeeee-----

Luffy: i tried to make him very simple protagonist vibes, play into the genre a bit. i incorporated hearts into his design in his hat, his shirt, his arm bands, and his pants poofies. His hat was given him as a sign of love, his shirt is from his school and he loves his school, his arm bands are on his arms and he uses his arms to show his love by fighting or by hugging, and his pants arent scuffed or anything so the heart puffs on his knees protects them from getting damaged (his love protects him)

Sabo: Tried to give him a more mysterious vibe with that peacoat and hat that shadows his face. I incorporated hearts into his design in his eyepatch, his vest buttons, and his boots. His heart eyepatch covers up that nasty scar, so he's distracting himself from his past pain by focusing on his love, the buttons on his vest/hearts on his boots are more or less hidden most of the time so he tends to hide his love but when he lets his guard down (when the boot is rolled down) you can see his love plainly.

Ace: Now, i dont know if Ace will die in this au or not, but in canon, he expresses his love through his torso area, i.e. tattoo on his arm and back and also that Certain Moment, so thats where i put a big ol' heart on him. His pants are also ripped in a shape of a heart but its kinda hard to see, but its meant to symbolize how the damage he takes is his love.

Nami: All the orange in her design is in heart shapes or the shapes of tangerines, thats where her love is. I also made nami's staff a curtain rod. She uses the rod to produce wind when she summons water and then manipulates it to heat it up or cool it down. i tried to add little details like that and the bandages on her torso to show that although she's outwardly clean, she's still scrappy. Nami is in the managerial pathway at the DDBA.

Zoro: I didnt make him quite as bright or vibrant as the others, i kinda just tried to make him Just A Guy. Except for his Swords. His Swords are special, so theyre bright and saturated. I roughed him up, a bit, not too much. i made his varsity jacket be ripped open so it looks like the heart on the front was broken because zoro is very broken hearted.

Sanji: I made him look like a wannabe princely character. Very cheesy, gaudy charm. I made the hearts of his design (on his boots) look like they're sewn up. So at some point his heart was broken, but he's healing them by stitching them up with love.

Robin: The hearts in her design are hard to make out because she is hiding her love. The pink of her lacey undershirt is where the heart is and its being protected by a dark over layer. The many belts in her design, however, are meant to look like shatters in that protective layer. This is meant to represent how even though she's strongly protecting herself, that strength is still weak without any outside help. Robin uses her multiplication abilities to simply multiply the shape of her arms like how she does in canon.

Chopper: His hearts are on his viles and his hat, love was given to him when he was given that hat, and he shows his love by making his healing potions. On another note though, chopper is a Transtormationalist, which is basically the zoan fruits of this world. His model is the Reindeer and his body has naturally started morphing into that form, too. Chopper is in the medical program at the DDBA

Usopp: Usopp's hearts on his pants patches signifies the new loves he’s accepted into his once lonely life. He fights with his sling shot and his ammo is seeds he's found savaging through forests or just growing himself. the white and grey auras he commands lessen the air resistance of his projectiles and makes them go a lot faster, and once they hit their target, he makes the plant grow super quickly, like how it does in canon post-ts.

Franky: Franky's hearts are everywhere and they're bright. he doesn't hide his love and he's built love for himself to wear on his person. Franky is one of the weapon masters at the school and he's a SUUUUPER cool teacher.

Brook: the hearts in his design are his Afro and his bag. I think i read somewhere that brook has kept his Afro so that Laboon can recognize him when he sees him again and that is just so loving to me so his Afro is in the shape of a heart. His bag is also in the shape of a heart, but the bag is being weighed down by whatever he's carrying inside of it, signifying the burden of the love he carries.

Jinbei: Jinbei is a Transtormationalist, Model: Whale Shark. the heart in his design is the tattoo on his chest for his old team. He's the driver of Luffy's bus and if you do enough dialogue options with him instead of skipping the bus cut-scenes, you get the option to battle Jinbei. If you do, he takes off his jacket revealing the pro-league he used to be in and then he decimates you. it is impossible to win the battle.

Koala: the colors i used for her are peachy colors, signifying what a peach she is :)))) her goggles and the buttons on her suspenders are the hearts on her design, signifying how her love is looking out for others and how love keeps herself up.

Vivi: Her hair is a big ol heart but its upsidedow, signifying how the love she feels often makes her look at things incorrectly. Also the rips in her tights are hearts, much like ace's are. the damage she takes is how she shows her love.

Crocodile: his hook is a heart, he loves fighting. i like the idea that when a student needs a text book and and asks him for one, he gives it to them by spearing a hole through one he has in his coat and handing it to the student who has to just live with a textbook with a big-ass hole through it.

Perona: the hearts in her design are on her sleeves and on her hat. The joke about the sleeves is that she wears her heart on her sleeves. but the hat, its meant to look like more or less a cage for the heart, her love is what traps her.

Mihawk: his hearts are on his weapons, he fucking loves fighting.

Shanks: The hearts in his design are only on his torso area, the locket around his neck and the deep unbuttoned shirt makes it look like there's a heart in the negative space, and the heart patch on his jacket, the loss of his arm and the lack of something there is symbolic for the love he has given.

imma be real, i didnt put that much thought in the heart positionings for yamato buggy or law. I kinda was swept up in Hot Man, Pathetic Man, and Hot Pathetic Man.

Uta: she's based off of Cupid, so she doesn't have any hearts really in her design but her whole persona is based off of a symbol of love and how it can turn malicious.

also in general, the shines on people's hair are meant to look like a heart-rate monitor's peaks and troughs. And the shading i did just by drawing all the shading then desaturating that area

WOWEE that's a lot of designing wtf was i on when i did all this.

if you got to the end, thank you so very much for reading! i hope you enjoyed my ramblings :)

again, there is more to come with this AU so Stay Tuned, Folks!!!!!!!!!!

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