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vampmira · 2 days ago

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open up what you got in your mind to me. [pt.2 – saja boys.]

they've never met someone like you — a mortal who almost knew them .. better than they knew themselves. for the boys, it's annoyingly intriguing. for the girls, it's comforting.

paring(s): huntrix & saja boys x demon expert!gn!reader

warning(s:) EVERYTHING IN HERE IS A PART TWO TO THIS !! some movie changes, probably effected lore that makes no sense for the sake of the narrative, a little angst at the beginning

request | tags: @blueberrysquire @akariis4snowball @j0ykill

a/n: this is part 2 !! i had sooo many ideas for huntrix that i had to make another part for the saja boys so that it wasn't so long . this part isn't as good but i liked it so ☆☆☆

that night huntrix defeated gwima was a blur. all you remember was the zombie mob of fans, half of the fight, and the use of your aura vision to raise the saja boys above the honmoon before it glimmered in gold. jinu, who gave his newly found soul for rumi, was practically reincarnated through her sword – standing in front of her post-concert, arms open for her to fall into with tears from the both of them. everyone else? well, they felt lost.

the saja boys weren't sure what to do anymore. jinu was overjoyed, of course, but the boys knew nothing more beyond gwima and their mission. they didn't care much about music, nor their fans – which huntrix still couldn't wrap their minds around – and it's not like they had secret human hobbies. they never had time for that. until now.

post-gwima, they stayed in an apartment near the huntrix penthouse, trying to figure out their new lives. for the most part, they spent most of their time under your watch – to make sure they didn't go cause chaos – but also .. under your study.

you were weird to them

they weren't used to someone other than them.. knowing them

their capabilities, their knowledge, their origins.

actually jinu found your extensive understanding of what he is to be kind of comforting

he noticed how you never really drooled over them

you'd stare, sure, but in the same way an art critic would stare at a painted blue canvas with a smeared red dot in the middle

he felt like that red dot – unexplained but you somehow understood

when he told you about his past, it was a lot for him – talking about his cruel choice

but you.. didn't judge him.

in fact, you wrote it down in your notebook immediately, the one you never let the boys get too close to

he accepted you into his life when he entertained your interest in his history

unlike him, however, the other boys were uninterested

at first anyway

thank jinu for getting them to talk to you btw

it took a little bit of convincing – telling them that you wanted to give them something more than just gwima

even though they didn't want it ...

REGARDLESS they hang out around the penthouse

because they're no longer saja boys (uninterested and unsupported by any demon staff anymore)

they really had nothing to do but mildly annoy your personal space

including being the center of your attention when the girls are out

mira gave you one rule, "living room and bathroom. only." and you've succeeded so far. abby and romance were talking by the large scale windows, mystery was playing some game with baby (and obviously winning), and jinu sat in the middle of the couch, watching whatever movie rumi put on for him. you sat beside him, sketching in your one and only personal researcher book. your pencil drew out what you felt like was the final line in mystery's hair ... before you huffed, erasing it, and trying again.

that was... until the littlest demon startled you.

"mystery, they're drawing you." bored of his game, baby peered over your shoulder, only passively curious and really wanting to mess with you. heads turned at your exposure to the room, especially jinu, who looked over your other shoulder at the sketch you did of him earlier.

"you're.. sketching us?" the direct ask made you a bit nervous, especially being under so many eyes. (kind of. mystery was more just.. generally facing your direction.) "'weakness.. chest?' are you taking notes on us?" you stood up, nearly defensive, turning around to face the couch trio.

"if it weren't for your old friends, i wouldn't have to write it all down again." the boys went quiet, remembering the origin of your knowledge and powers. "i'm just.. tired of keeping it all inside. i need to get it out somewhere."

romance, true to his name, leaned over your shoulder, putting you both in a proximity much closer than you've ever had to experience before.

"then why don't we do something.. a little more fun .. to help you get it all out?"

normally sentences like that from him sound way more suggestive than he means them to be

but this time he came up with an actual solution to release your closed up, ready-to-pop-out-of-your-skin knowledge

they gave you a one way trip to infodump station ! an interview !

they wanted to learn more about you anyways

their fellow demons down below were the ones to wipe out your ancestors

not them

and they make sure you know it too

but they can't help but feel .. a little, tiny bit bad that you're now just a living library

a time capsule, holding onto so much information that you're about to burst 24/7

they had never met a researcher honestly

you intrigued them as much as they did for you

how much did you really know ?? did you know anything or is all this antsy behavior a ploy to make it look like you knew everything when you really knew nothing ??

their disguises were perfectly created to make every little fan fall for their attractiveness the second they looked at the boys

but you never drooled at them or had your eyes pop out of your head

you just always... stared. processing. tracing mindfully.

they didn't know what you were really abut. but they were about to find out. and really test your persona.

romance sat relaced in a chair as you circled him, pencil taking note of everything you noticed. how his markings were sharp, not rounded like rivers, how his skin was cooled, not burning hot. all things you already knew, but you found small comfort in knowing not much changed. you took a deep breath around his hair, nose scrunching up. he smiled, taking your cheek in his hand.

"new cologne." his voice was smooth, gentle. traditionally alluring. "just for you. do you like it?" he turned up his flirtatiousness, pulling you in closely, testing the waters of your focus.. before you turned away to start writing, completely uneffected.

"so many generations and you guys still smell like flames.." you mumbled to yourself.

"would you rather we smell like bubblegum?" baby tried to sass you, but you were too focused on the sharpness of his teeth to care. you stepped towards him, eyes widened.

"can demons still tear apart brick with the force of their canines?" you asked, rather close to his face. for a moment, he almost felt like the flustered one.

"yes..? no? i-i don't know." he crossed his arms, childishly. "i don't go around biting bricks." you jot it down still as you move towards abby. he's deeply relaxed, leaning back on the couch, comfortable shirt riding up to expose his famously toned abs. your eyes trail off of your notebook and they think.. they've got you.

"like what you see?" he teases. "you can touch them, you know." a bold move that brings you closer, nails tracing his skin. they're almost disappointed that abby is the one who stole your attention.. before they realize you're attention isn't stolen at all. you're drawing his markings with careful detail.

"where did yours come from? rumi's started forming on her arm when she was a kid, but they haven't reached her stomach yet. they grow with time, right? how old would that make you then..?" you dissolve into mutters they can barely decipher. "oh!! mystery!" he almost jumps behind the couch when you race over to him, making jinu laugh from the sidelines of their attempts to flirt with you. "i've never seen a demon sparkle! that's new.. is that just you? or is there a whole subspecies of sparkling demons? or is it your human disguise..?" your questions nearly overwhelm him, enough to make him forget how he's supposed to flirt with you, but romance pulls you away, whispering in your ear.

"it's not just him." he smiles, hand on your shoulder. "you're sparkling, too, sweetheart." if anyone could fluster anyone, it'd be him, even if it takes two rounds. his thumb runs against your chin. "you look so cute in this lighting, like a rose."

"speaking of which, what's the flora like down there? are there any? do they eat demons or are they like.. regular flowers? we knew more of demons than of gwima's realm. did they smell? i bet they might have.. would it be nostalgic or torturing?"

the boys share a look, and sigh. you went off into high speed muttering again.

you really were everything you said

uninterested in their flirts and more in knowledge

that almost made them like you more..

in the following times after the interview, they greeted you a bit more casually – sometimes cheerfully, asking if you had any new drawings or trivia you wanted to get off your chest

how did you . tame them !? does the whole hard to get thing actually work !?

it confused the girls wildly

but to see them adjusting to being here through someone who actually understood them instead of lying around, empty and lost, was a pick-me-up in the mornings

one morning, after being delivered a coffee, handsigned by the boys, you felt something click in your head, a sensation you had never felt before, and reached to put it in your notebook immediately

"demons, when properly befriended, like to be understood. they brought me coffee. do demons like coffee??"

#requests #dividers by enchanthings #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters #jinu x reader #mystery x reader #romance x reader #abby x reader #baby x reader #saja boys x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader

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madamechrissy · 16 hours ago

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Mr. Nanami's Secretary

Pairings - Boss Nanami x Secretary reader

Contents/warnings- based off the movie 'The Secretary' quite clearly aha, BDSM heavy, dom/sub elements, Nanami is NOT nice lol, power dynamics, some sexual teasing, quite an ass beating bc Nanami is mad at your typos!!!

This is for my baby @indiewritesxoxo she wanted this fic to win so badly lol! If ya'll want a tag for part two lmk in the comments <3

How did you end up here?

Crawling on all fours, with Mr. Nanami's paper dangling between your lips, wearing your black gartered stockings and your little blouse and pencil skirt, utterly professional looking - but here you are, crawling like a little puppy over his hardwood floors. As you get closer and enter his office, he leans back, lowering his green glasses, stern face assessing you when you crawl up to him.

You tilt your chin up and he reaches a hand down, tugging it out of your teeth's grip, inspecting it while tugging at his cheetah tie. It's the one quirky thing about his otherwise serious attire, this suit that fits him just a bit tightly, his muscles so big under his dress shirt it's like the material has to stretch.

You know there are two outcomes to this paper.

One, praise.

Two, punishment.

You're perfectly happy with either, you love his punishment as much as you love his praise - only one thing would be better, and that's having all of Mr. Nanami, which you're dying for. Your cunt is wet again just thinking about it, about another three days of not sitting right because he's beat you with his belt, and maybe he'd actually do more with you.

Nanami's lips purse as he's carefully studying your typing, if he finds just one flaw, you'll be bent over his desk, if you do it perfectly, he'll pat your head so sweet and let you rest your cheek on his lap. The thoughts make your heart race, as you patiently wait, your palms flat on your thighs as he likes you.

"Hmm," his husky sound just makes you desire him more, fuck you're tired of touching yourself to the thoughts of him, eyeing his side profile in the soft lights ahead. "What a shame, you almost got it all completely perfect."

"I did-"

"Did I tell you to speak?" His voice is calm, raising a thin brow, turning to you now, you're flushed when he tilts your chin up with two fingers, hazel eyes glinting.

"No, Sir."

"No, I didn't, yet you're still talking, huh?" You open your mouth again, just to close it. "I was going to let this slide, because it's just one letter wrong, but..."

He stands now, pushing back his giant office chair, standing so tall over you as his hand enwraps in your hair, tugging just a bit, you see the tenting in his slacks, making your cunt throb around nothing. You barely hold in a whine as he speaks slowly.

"Go lock the door."

You know better than to argue or ask, it's been your new routine, serving him, and he in turn tells you what to do. What to eat, what to wear, what to say, fuck you love it, love feeling like finally your life has some sort of order, wanting it to belong to him utterly.

With a gentle click of his door, you look back over your shoulder at him, so tall and broad, he's loosened his tie just a bit, showcasing the veins running across his neck. You swallow nervously as you head back to him, until your heels are right against his perfectly polished dress shoes.

"Bend over the desk," he murmurs, stepping around it, as you walk up nervously, doing just that. "Lift your skirt."

You're palms flat on the desk, arched for him, you've tugged your skirt up over the curve of your ass, while he just stands there. "Mr. Nanami..."

"I haven't given you permission to speak darling, have I?" The way it rolls off his tongue, when you feel his fingers ghosting your ass, the way you wish he'd do more, touch more, for once he does barely brush your slit for just a moment, your eyes shut, a gasp escaping. "Your slutty cunt is soaking wet from crawling on the floor?"

You look back at him, he nods. "No sir."

"What are you dripping for? Going to make a mess of my floors, tsk," he aches to sink two fingers inside your cunt - but not just yet, you have to need him more, beg for it more. So instead he lands a sharp smack against your ass cheek, cock throbbing when he sees his hand print, hearing your muffled cry as you bite your lip. "Ah ah."

He leans over, cupping your chin now, you're arching further against him, dying for more contact, he lands another smack. "Mr. Nanami..."

"Don't muffle your cries, I want to hear them, hmm? Nod if you understand." You nod quickly, nearly tasting his breath before he pulls back and lands another smack. The sharp sting just makes your cunt ache even more.

He doesn't stop there, no his sharp smacks echo in his office, mixed with muffled cries as your tears well up in your eyes, sniffling as you try to not fall to the ground. It's one after the other, so many your thighs nearly collapse, smacks until you'll be bruised from him for weeks, marked from him.

The sight of you was so fucking sexy like this, Nanami can't stand it, your arousal glistening and dripping down your inner thigh. He swipes a bit of it up, your thighs are twitching, cunt pushing more and more clear strings of arousal out. He can't help but captures some of it on his thumb, slipping it in his mouth and biting back a moan and how good you fucking taste, before smacking the fuck out of your ass again.

He loves how it jiggles for him, he loves how his hand prints are littered across it in patterns. "Don't move, you know the rules, don't you?"

"S-Sorry..." You can't help it, not when he touched the cunt you've been playing with since you started working here. "Could you... do more?"

"Now you're demanding things of me? That's not how this works, darling." He smacks you right across your cunt, your head falls back, hoarse moan escaping from your throat. "Do you deserve that after that glaringly apparent typo?"

"N-no..."

"I was going to lick this pretty cunt," he trails a finger from your clit up your dripping slit, up past your hole, teasing but never entering, yet this is more from Mr. Nanami than you've gotten so far. "But you aren't acting appropriately, are you Miss?"

"No, I'm sorry Mr. Nanami - ah!" He smacks your cunt again, fuck you almost cum, the sting and burn and ache so perfect, but then he pulls back, brushing back your hair almost gently.

"Go type the paper up again, make it perfect, not one mistake, hmm?" He tugs at your hair, yanking your head back, you nod, and he smiles just a bit. "Good girl."

He leaves you to sit back in his chair, you carefully tug your skirt down, biting your lip at the sweet pain, you go to open the door when he stops you. "Yes Mr. Nanami?"

"Hands and knees," he says softly, you sink right down, and he smiles just a bit, serious attorney Nanami having just one little moment where you see the real him come through. "Crawl on back to your desk now."

He props his feet up, crossing his legs at the heels, as you do just that. You should feel degraded, or feel some shame, right? But all you can think of as you crawl to your desk is how badly you want your boss Mr. Nanami inside you, even as you can barely sit on your stinging and bruised ass, you feel it, your mind drifting to it.

Just how did you get here?

♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎ ♡ 💜 ♡︎

I love when Nanami is mean lol

#nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x fem!reader #kento smut #kento nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader

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yestrday · 2 days ago

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: ̗̀➛ NO BEDTIME TONIGHT ! yan! savanaclaw / gn! reader

ramshackle's finally turned into a heap of rubble. you saw that one coming a long time ago. what you didn't see is the harem of unsavory magicians trying to keep you confined within their dorms. (<- prev )

TW ! yandere behaviors, inappropriate behavior (ok leona), mentioned violence, subtle n*ncon (still leona), mentioned s*x work (ruggie), suggestive themes

Ramshackle might have been a dusty old mess, but at least it wasn’t as suffocating as Heartslabyul is right now. Sadists, the whole lot of them. And if they weren’t sadists, then lonely children projecting their mommy issues on you. At least Deuce was tolerable. Sort of.

So Jack whisking you away to Savanaclaw was a sort of blessing in itself. Except as soon as you stepped foot in their territory, all beastmen from every direction had their preying eyes pinned on you. Leona, looking kingly as he lounges on his bed, has a knowing smirk as he approves Jack’s plea to let you stay with them.

Maybe you’ve exchanged one prison for another.

You’ve only had five hosts before him, but JACK HOWL easily wins with how thoughtful he is. He’s brought you an extra of his bare necessities— towels, shampoos that are strongly masculine in scent, and a futon spread out on the floor that he’s willingly taken. You had fretted and said that you’d take the floor, but Jack stopped you and insisted that you take his bed. He can’t be a lousy host, after all. And he couldn’t just take his roommate’s bed: territory and all that.

It’s a rare change from the clingy Heartslabyul members, but it makes you feel… less intruded on. Like you were having your boundaries respected, in Night Raven College of all places! Jack’s been respectful, maybe even a bit awkward. Such as when you walked into his dorm room, still damp from the shower, and his shirt (too many sizes, too big for you) clinging to your chest. It’s hard to miss the blush on his tan skin, but rather than shoving a camera in your face, he instead towels your hair for you. It’s nothing, he says. Bunch of younger siblings back home, so this was really no different. Hm. You wonder when you last heard that before someone decided your mouth was theirs to mess with.

Jack shares a room with others, but Ruggie’s shovelled them to some other room so that territorial instincts don’t scare you out of your wits. Looking around… It’s Savanaclaw, alright. Ripe with the scent of testosterone and training equipment scattered across the room. Jack’s shelf is full of cacti, protein powder jugs, textbooks, and a picture of his family. You send him a grin when you catch that.

“Family-oriented, huh?” You coo, picking up the frame as he towels your ends. You let out an aww when you notice that the whole pack shares his fluffy ears and tail, just in varying shades of gray. You tap the face of a handsome mountain man. “Guess I know where you got your looks from.”

Jack splutters behind you, flustered yet refusing to comment. “Don’t know what you want with all this flattery.”

“... The answers to Crewel’s homework.”

He does something halfway between a grunt and a laugh, the rare smile reflected in the mirror as he gives your hair a final pat. Jack must not be aware that a normal human’s follicles aren’t thick enough to stand his rough toweling, with the way your hairs look aired out. “Can’t get anything out of me. I’m still trying to figure out the alchemical compositions.” You pout, but relent.

There’s a certain aura of domesticity as Jack guides you to your— well, his bed. Grim has opted not to sleep with you, something about the stink of multiple beastmen putting him off. You plop on the mattress face-first and make yourself comfortable rolling around. You fail to see Jack’s shoulder stiffen and his tail straighten when you do so. “Smells nice,” you smile as you prop yourself up to look at Jack below. “Did you pull out some fresh sheets? Thank you.”

Jack gives you one of his half-smiles, those charming and boyish ones that you wouldn’t expect from a beastman as gruff as he was. “I brought you here, didn’t I? It’s common sense.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Your eyes sparkle with that mischievous shine that Jack’s taken an awful liking to. “Pretty sure Ace had sugar on his bed.”

Jack scowls, and you follow his stiff tail thumping slowly on his mattress. “Hmph. Ace could do anything he puts his mind to, but all he wants to do is act sloppy and undisciplined.”

“Yes, yes~” Some Heartslabyul slander was welcome after that hellhole of a week you went through. You reach out to stroke his ears, lowered for you to scratch behind. Both of you were close enough for this to be normal. “Ace and the rest of ‘em are assholes. I’m happy you took me away, Jack.”

An… unexplainable shadow crosses Jack’s eyes, and even the happy waving of his tail had slowed. A cross between two emotions that you could not quite grasp, tugging back and forth before he shakes himself out of it. “It’s no problem. You…” Though you’re affectionate with him, Jack does not make it a habit to initiate contact with you. You know very well how hesitant he is, with how easily you fold under both magic and brawn. So when he lifts his hands to your face, hovering as he considers how to touch you, the warmth of his calloused palm is a nice surprise.

“You just don’t deserve the way they treat you, is all.” His hands cover your eyes, prompting you to close them. Hiding the expression he makes from you. “You’re not supposed to be here. You have to be protected. It’s only right.”

Are you imagining the warmth that hovers just above your nape? Maybe so, because as soon as Jack lifts his hands, he’s turning away from you and switching the lights off.

RUGGIE BUCCHI’s eyes narrow as soon as you and Jack enter the room, sniffing the air as if something about you two has deeply offended his sensitive nostrils. “Ugh, get a load of that. You smell.” You jolt back and try to smell yourself, frowning when you don’t smell anything. He snorts. “Not you. Well, you. But, like, something else.” Ruggie’s discerning eye slowly moves to his junior, who is opting not to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Or someone.”

Your frown only grows deeper. “What do you mean? Should I wash it off?”

The hyena grins, eyes still on Jack as he busies himself making his morning protein shake. “Oh, you could, but someone might get sad.” He snickers to himself. “Ah, well. If you ain’t planning on washin’ that off, help me whip up some breakfast. Least you could do after sleeping over ours, yeah?” He laughs again when he sees the crestfallen expression you’ve begun sporting. Face barely inches away from each other, his hands pinch both cheeks, and he steps away before it could actually hurt. “C’mon, I was just joking~ You’re welcome anytime in Savanaclaw, if His Majesty upstairs got anything to say about it.”

Well, that was nice to hear. Your spirits now lifted, you follow Ruggie into the kitchen where he’s busy prepping breakfast. “Just an omelette today,” he hums. “But Leona likes his in a specific way. Psh, specific way.” He rolls his eyes. “Better to just eat it anyway and not feel your stomach rumble for the rest of the day, but who are we to disobey princes, right?” He gives you some potatoes and carrots. “Peel these for me?”

You eagerly comply. In these wee hours, you and Ruggie stand side by side chopping and prepping meals. Sometimes one of you makes idle chatter to fill in the silence, but there is still comfort even when no one talks. It was nice, you thought. You and Ruggie hung out often enough to be familiar with each other, and though it wasn’t on the same level as you had with Ace and Deuce, there was no need to keep up any pretenses around Ruggie.

“What’re ya thinkin’ about?” The hyena’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. He eyes your idle hands and then your spaced-out look. You shake your head and place the diced vegetables into a bowl.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking how nice you are to be around.” At that, his tail and ears immediately stiffened up. But you fail to notice that as you affectionately rub the back of his ears like you always do. You do notice how aggressively he starts beating the eggs and give him a curious glance. His face is angled away from you, but his bristled tail flicks now and then.

“What’s gotten into ya?” He huffs, turning over the meat while he beats the eggs. “Getting all sappy and stuff… What, cooking breakfast together got you sentimental?”

Right. NRC students don’t take kindly to affection, do they? Especially the prideful Savanaclaws. “Sorry, was I overstepping? I thought it was just nice that we didn’t have to force conversation… stuff like that.” You snicker when his tail and ears bristle again. “Too much?”

“Get outta here,” he grumbles. He takes the meat out and pours the beaten eggs into the pan. “Saying cheesy stuff like that… You’re gonna make a man get the wrong impression. Not saying that I’m getting the wrong impression, mind you. But—” He jabs the whisk in your direction and gives you a warning glare. “Night Raven’s full of fucked up people. One of these days, you’re gonna be so cheesy that they’ll think you actually like like them!”

Your smile falters a bit when he turns his attention again to the omelette. “Right…” You know that as well, with how Heartslabyul acted around you when you slept over. Before that, you were eager to dismiss their teasing or advances as jokes. After all, they were the very first dorm that you befriended and, therefore somehow more special to you than the others. But now you’re wondering if you gave your affections too easily, to the point that they’d be delusional enough to think of marrying you… “I– I guess I have to think about that, huh. Someone tried to— well, someone’s trying to marry me. They’re planning talks with their parents and— ah, it’s all just so awkward. I didn’t even know they like liked me so…”

“Who.”

“Hm?” You startle at the sudden dip of his voice. His tail is upright as he continues frying the omelette. “Oh, who? I– I don’t wanna give it away… It’s not a nice look, I don’t think.”

“Too kind,” he scoffs, turning to you. You pull out a platter for him to put the omelette on— light and springy, with meat wrapped in the middle. “I don’t get why you’re looking out for this creep. Why you put up with the rest of us, anyway.” The latter part doesn’t seem to quite reach your ears, but he’s all up in your face again before you can even ask. “Sevens know why the Dark Mirror put you here. You’re a wimp and a pushover. Someone like you—” He taps the middle of your forehead. “Should be in Royal Sword Academy, where you brush animals and sing pretty songs with the rest of ‘em. But unlucky you, huh?”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “Buncha creeps following you around, and you still smile at them like they deserve it.”

“It’s better than being… rude,” you frown. “I can’t… I just couldn’t.”

He shrugs. “Pushover, what did I say? In the streets, they’d maim you and sell you ten times over. You’d be like a living money cheat, yanno?”

“But these aren’t the streets.”

His expression is downright gleeful. “Yeah, just worse.”

He laughs when you reel away, watching you with those predator eyes as you grow more uneasy. “Oh, relax. I’m just kidding again. My point is, ya shouldn’t be putting up with horrendous behavior. That’s not how a real mate should act.” He pulls out another plate and sets another serving of omelette. “They should bow their heads, make ya feel loved, cook ya meals… all that sappy shit.” He places down the omelette before you, still warm, and smiles at you gently… as gently as one can when they look like they’re having the time of their life tormenting you.

“Sit. You’re not gonna turn down poor me’s cooking, are ya?”

You were right. Savanaclaw was just another form of prison. Ruggie seems to be playing coy around you, and you’re quite sure that your missing blazer is all due to him. You’re sure of it, with the way he smiles too innocently when you confront him about it. Jack, you had some hopes for. But then you walked into a bloodbath he was responsible for as he taught a lesson to the men making crass jokes about you. You had run away before he could see you, the image of blood dripping from his knuckles never leaving you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR caught you by the scruff as you ran and dragged you into his room to be used as a living body pillow. Now, your prime concern was squirming out of the tight grasp that the lazy lion has on you. At another failed attempt to wiggle out of his grasp, Leona pries one eye open with a low growl. “What the hell are you squirming for, herbivore?” He yawns, tail languidly waving back and forth as he looks at you. “Can’t get a good nap if you keep moving around like that.”

You huff and crane your head to glare at him. “Let–! Ugh, let go! I’ve got places to be!”

He snorts, but loosens his grasp on you. “Places? Like what? Back in that bloodbath?”

“Away!” You exclaim, exasperated. “Away from this den of—!”

“Beasts?” He smirks at you, propping himself on one hand as he eyes you like prey. “Careful of what you say. The leader of these beasts is right in front of you. You should be grateful, you know. Lots of hormones raging out there, and this is the one place that those fools wouldn’t dare intrude on. Ruler’s territory and all that.” You watch him warily as he muses to himself. “They know they’re as good as sand the moment they walk in here.”

“Nice to know your leadership skills come in handy when protecting your bedroom,” you snort, eyes narrowed at him. “Why don’t you use them to, I don’t know, break up the fight outside?”

He raises a brow at you, as if the suggestion was just downright ridiculous. “You’re odd. You know, the whole reason Jack’s bloodying his knuckles is for you. You should be thanking him.” He shakes his head. “Poor pup. Here he is being all chivalrous only to find out that his crush is being ungrateful.”

Crush?! You shake it off. You shouldn’t be surprised. If you were a tad more narcissistic, you’d be using all these stupid sorcerers as a one-way ticket to richness. “So? Gonna break them up?”

Leona snorts and plops back down between his pillows. “Hell no. Too much effort. Just stay here till the mess dies down.” When he feels you unmoving, he looks at you and the deep frown that has settled on your face, and sighs. “Seriously, I don’t get it. Why the hell do you care so much? It’s Jack’s choice if he wants to do stupid shit, and it’s certainly no concern of yours if someone breaks a nose or a rib ‘cause they were going around calling you a whore. If anything, they probably deserve it.”

“It’s because I don’t like anyone breaking a rib or a nose or whatever over some stupid comment! Maybe if they, like, actually tried to do something to me, but…!” You shake your head, feeling less and less in control of your emotions and thoughts. “I just…! It doesn’t feel right, is what you want to say, not when Jack was smiling as he beat those boys up more than needed to.

“Look at you, thinking too much over nothing.” He is sporting that same lazy grin, the one he wears when he ropes you into schemes that you can’t get out of. “Just be grateful that people are looking out for ya, even if there are too many of them. Just sit here, lie down with me, and don’t move too much. Then we can get a pretty decent nap and erase all those useless thoughts. The moment you step foot out of my territory, you’re either getting mauled by one of those weaklings or pounced on by the pup. Your choice.”

What a…! But he’s right. The crowd outside was too aggravated not to do anything to you, the reason behind their beating. Leona’s smug smile as you crawl into bed next to him is apparent as he tugs your leg closer to him, making you yelp in surprise. “You!” You gasp, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Don’t you think you’re being too close?!”

“It’s nothing you ain’t used to,” he yawns. “You sleep like this with that idiot duo, don’t you?”

You gawp at him. “How do you–! No, it’s just… different!”

He raises a brow at you. “Different, how?” When you fail and stumble over your words, he laughs snarkily. “Ah, I get it. It’s different when you’re sleeping with foolish boys. But I guess lying with a lion has you all flustered, then?” With a blush that grows redder by the second, you try to refute his words, only to stutter. “I’m flattered, herbivore. One little comment or a little skinship, and you show me that pretty lil blush.”

“Pity you show yourself so easily,” he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Otherwise, I’d have whisked you away already.”

“Not you too…” You whimper. He doesn’t seem surprised, only growing more amused when you squirm uncomfortably under his fingertips.

“Oh, yes, me too. Baffling, isn’t it? One magicless herbivore, and you have men begging for you to look at them. It needs to be studied.” His fingers tickle as they graze down the side of your face. “Personally, I don’t want to work for many things, but look at you messing up my whole work ethic. Audacious of you, really. You’ve got no~o idea how much effort I put into making sure you don’t get marked by one of these horndogs, you know?”

You squeak when he brushes against your nape. The predatory look on his face is not lost on you as he wets his lips. “Not gonna fight back?” His lips curve hungrily. “I’m surprised.”

“What am I gonna do?” You whimper. “Jump out the window? Get mauled?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, with how easily you throw yourself into danger.” He brings his lips closer to your nape, chuckling lowly when his fangs barely graze over it. “You smell delicious for a herbivore, but I already knew that.”

“Weirdo…!”

“The audacity to call a prince that,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind it as he relishes in your scent. “You don’t have to tremble so much. You might not have a title, but you’ll live like royalty in Sunset Savanna. Doesn’t sound bad, does it? You sit pretty, and I’ll give ya everything you desire. From the physical—” He tugs on the back of your shirt. “—To the more, hm.. physical.” You shiver when his whisper brushes against the shell of your ear, grinning as your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Not a bad deal?”

You glare at him. “As if.”

“Hm.” He scrutinizes you for a bit. Then, with a newfound conviction, his fangs dig into your nape, ready to mark you as his. You squeeze your eyes to prepare yourself for the pain… till his tongue, sandy and rough, drags across the spot.

“A-Ah!” Your response brings on more humiliation than you need, and you try to push Leona who keeps sucking and nibbling and licking. Doing anything but biting. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Playing with my prey,” he mutters against your nape. “C’mon, just keep making those pretty noises till this lion is satisfied, yeah?”

“You—! I thought you were gonna!”

“Mark you?” He pulls back to show you a smug cat’s expression. “Oh, we’ll get to that in the future, herbivore. They say not to play with your food, but… It’s pretty damn hard when dessert’s this fuckin’ cute.”

You (Jack Howl): [image attached] Ruggie Bucchi: hmmm? whyd ya send me a pic of sum blazer You (Jack Howl): Ruggie-senpai. I don’t mean to accuse you but. This isn’t yours, is it? Ruggie Bucchi: whaat! yer accusin me of stealin sum randos blazer! look at me! do i look like the type! Jack Howl reacted with 😑. You (Jack Howl): It’s not some ‘randos’, though. I can smell them on it. Ruggie Bucchi: … Ruggie Bucchi: dont touch it pls plaplspls Ruggie Bucchi: i knowww its bad they dont got alot of clothes to begin with but plsss cmon gimme this one Ruggie Bucchi: you n leona got to sleep with em and i get jack shit?!! ya wiuldnt deny me this wouldya jack!! you spend a lot of time with em anyway! you even marked them in their sleep without them knowing cmoon Ruggie Bucchi: im just a poor hyena… just scraps for me… youd turn the other way for poor lil me right?! Jack Howl (You): Hm. Sometimes I wonder why I respect you. Fine.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere x reader #yandere male #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #yester.writes

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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 day ago

Text

make this place your home - r.c.

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

summary: Rafe has been begging you to move in with him, but when you finally show him the place your heart belongs to, he realizes he'd do anything to make you happy.

content: fluff, angst, a drizzle of spice, semi-canon obx if you were to eliminate some pretty important things lol

cw: mentions of blood and injury, suggestive comments, closed-door romance, mentions of abusive parents (Luke)

note: my contribution to @zyafics mrga campaign <3

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“Don’t open your eyes yet!”

“I’m gonna trip over something and fall on my ass. Or run into something. This is The Cut, who knows what junk is just lying around. I’m gonna get tetris or some shit.”

You laughed out loud. Rafe nearly opened his eyes to figure out why.

“See, now you’re laughing at me, you better not be doing some dumb shit to me for a Tiktok,” he warned.

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby, calm down,” you chuckled. “I’m laughing because you’re cute. It’s tetanus, not tetris.”

He should feel embarrassed, but the sound of your laugh and of you calling him cute calmed every muscle in his body. You were a balm that went straight to his agitated heart.

You were the only one who could disarm him when he got irritated like this. You told him once that you don’t take his bad moods personally because you can see them for what they are - he’s not angry, he’s anxious. He realized then that you’re the only person who’d ever really understood him, that you might understand him better than he understands himself.

It’s why his shoulders relax now, it’s why he can take a deep breath. There was no one else in the world who could convince him to let them drive his boat while he’s blindfolded or walk through the tall, marshy grass without knowing where he was going. Only you.

“Can I open my eyes now?” He asked.

“We’re not there yet,” you shook your head, hand still on his arm to lead him closer to your surprise. “You can go one more minute without seeing where you’re going.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know if I can go another minute without seeing you,” he flirted.

You smiled, tempted to rip the blindfold off him and forget all about the surprise. Too bad for him you already knew all his tricks.

“Nice try, Cameron.”

As you got closer, your stomach twisted. Maybe this was stupid. After all, wouldn’t it be underwhelming to Rafe after all he’s seen? This place meant so much to you, you didn’t know if you could handle any criticism from him. You considered turning around, but you’d already made such a big deal out of this, how would you explain it to him?

“Okay, this is a good spot, I guess,” you said, your voice shaking with trepidation.

“You good?” Rafe asked. Of course he could tell your mood shifted without even looking at you.

“Yeah, I think, just open your eyes.” At this point you just wanted to get his inevitable disappointment over with.

Slowly, Rafe opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to adjust to the blinding Carolina sunlight before finally sizing up your big reveal.

It was your house, the one he’d been to a hundred times before - sneaking into your window so your brother wouldn’t hear, showing up in the night to investigate when you “heard a noise,” defending you from Luke when he got violent. Except, this wasn’t the same house. It was bigger, for one. And slightly bigger, with new walls, new roof, and a big, hand painted flag in your brother’s handwriting: “Poguelandia.”

It wasn’t much, but it was your dream come true. In your eyes, you may as well have been standing in front of a magic castle. As you watched Rafe’s expression stay completely unchanged you realized that to him, it probably still looked like some shitty shack on The Cut. You wished you never brought him here.

“This is what you guys have been working on this whole time?” He asked, still looking at the house and not at you.

“Yeah, I mean, and the store,” you gestured to the dock behind you where you and your friends had built yourselves a small business. Another thing that would surely seem pathetic compared to what Rafe was used to.

“It’s nice, I like it,” Rafe said.

“No it’s okay, you don’t have to lie,” you said, voice small. You started to turn to leave. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it, let’s just go-”

“Hey, woah, woah,” Rafe interrupted you gently.

He approached you from behind, arms twisting around your waist, forcing you to turn back and look at your home. He had to duck down to slot his chin into your shoulder, swaying you both gently.

“If I had to come all this way, I think I at least deserve the grand tour, don’t I?” he mumbled into your ear.

Your smile returned, you nuzzled your cheek into his, heart swelling.

“I guess, if you insist,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“I do,” he nodded, tickling your neck with his buzzed hair. He tilted his head down to place a sloppy kiss into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m especially looking forward to seeing your bedroom.”

“You mean the one I share with your sister?”

He groaned, “why do you torture me like this?”

“Because it’s fun.” You twisted away from his hold and slid your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers with his.

Rafe followed you onto the porch. You paused at the front door for dramatic effect.

“Hello MTV, welcome to my crib!”

Rafe smiled as you cracked up at your own joke, but his momentary joy turned sour when you opened the door and revealed an unwelcome sight on the other side; the Pogues.

The lively discussion that had been filling your shared living room stopped dead in its tracks. The room turned cold. Six icy stares were aimed in your boyfriend’s direction.

You understood why they disliked him so much. He didn’t put much effort into changing their minds. But he’d changed yours. And though you’d tried for years not to, you loved him. Neither of you had said it yet, but you knew it was true, at least for you.

There had been countless arguments between you and your brother and the shared friends that were basically family about Rafe. Countless fights you’d stopped between JJ and Rafe, countless nights begging Rafe just to try a little harder, begging JJ just to give him a chance. They both cared for you enough not to kill each other, but it was a reluctant ceasefire. A fragile peace you were always vigilant to protect. A truce that could be broken at any moment. You prayed this wasn’t that moment.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you guys were home,” you explained. The six pogues shared concerned glances with each other, something unsaid that you felt had nothing to do with you walking in with their least favorite person. “What’s going on?”

Kie stood, shot a brief but blazing glare towards Rafe, and handed you a piece of paper. You read it carefully, your eyebrows creased in confusion that was slowly morphing into great concern. Rafe read over your shoulder.

It was an official warning from the Kildare City Council. The land you were standing on and the home you’d built would be rezoned. They were taking Poguelandia.

“What the hell?” You shouted. “Can they actually do this?”

“Looks like they already are,” John B confirmed.

“No, no. There has to be something we can -”

“There’s not!” JJ stood from his seat at the far end of the room.

You could see it all over his face, the anger that was always lying just beneath the surface starting to make its way to the top. Everyone thought of JJ as a happy-go-lucky, silly, mischievous kid. And he was all those things, but he was something else, something only you really saw; a hurt kid who never healed.

“There’s never something we can do,” JJ continued, stalking slowly toward you, but keeping his eyes locked on Rafe the whole time. “Not when Kooks are involved. They always win.”

“Back up, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, looking down at JJ, who’d gotten close enough to break the barrier of Rafe’s personal space.

You stepped between them instinctually, a move you’d made a hundred times before.

“Stop.” You put a gentle hand on JJ’s chest to back him up, but he didn’t budge. “This isn’t his fault, J.”

“How do we know that, huh?” JJ finally tore his eyes off Rafe to look at you. “How do we know he’s not behind it somehow? Trying to steal our land for another bougie ass development project. You can’t trust these people, sis. How many times do we have to get screwed by them before you realize it?”

You and your brother looked at each other for a long time. The rest of the room watched as the two of you seemed to have a conversation none of them could hear; the unspoken language of siblings who’d been to hell and back together.

After a long moment, you turned your gaze toward Rafe.

“Do- do you know anything about this?” You asked him hesitantly.

His face fell. A series of emotions flashed across his features so quickly, you were sure you were the only one in the room who caught them all; surprise, betrayal, hurt, anger, and finally, back to his go-to: detached stoicism.

“That’s really what you think of me? That I’d do something like this?” His tone was even, his voice far away even though you were inches apart.

You knew you’d hurt him by even entertaining the idea that he’d betray you like this. But this ground was shaky, and you had been screwed over by Kooks your entire life. The trust you put in him did not come easy, and sometimes it wavered, even though he’d never given it any reason to.

Rafe’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer. He nodded once, his lips twisting into the kind of smile that had absolutely no joy behind it.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered.

He took one last searing look around the room, twelve hateful eyes met him, and he didn’t look at your watery ones before turning and storming out of the house, the newly installed screen door banging shut behind him.

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Your knees were tucked all the way to your chest, your chin resting on them as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to manufacture any sort of comfort. It wasn’t working.

The zone change notice sat on the bed in front of you. You read it over and over, as though if you just wanted it badly enough, the words would change into something less devastating.

You were going to lose your home. You’d probably lost the love of your life, before you could even tell him he was the love of your life. Your brother was one step from completely falling over the edge, the rocky path toward destruction that you’d pulled him back from your whole lives getting steeper by the minute. A few hours ago you were excitedly cleaning this room so you could show Rafe. How could so much change in so little time?

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Come in,” you said quietly.

The door creaked slightly despite it being brand new. Sarah tiptoed into the room gently, searching you for any signs of distress.

“Sar, you don’t have to knock to come into your own room,” you told her.

“I know, I just thought maybe you needed some space.”

You shook your head and scooted over on the bed to make space for her. She took your invitation with a smile and settled in next to you.

“So…how’s your day going?” She asked in a singy-songy voice.

You both erupted in bittersweet laughter.

“Oh y’know, I’ve had better.”

She nudged your arm with her elbow.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.” She assured you.

“Is it though? I mean really, Sar, is it?” No laughter hung in the air now. “I mean, what if I just lost my home and my boyfriend? Or worse, what if I just lost my home to my boyfriend.”

“You really think Rafe would’ve done something like this?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. You heard him though, when I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it.”

Sarah sighed, a deep exhale that usually signaled she was about to say something she didn’t want to.

“What?” You prodded.

“Look, I’m not my brother’s biggest fan, you know that,” she began.

“Um yes, you’ve made that very clear,” you chuckled, thinking of all the times Sarah had warned you not to get involved with Rafe.

“But, just this one time, I’m going to…” She paused dramatically, her eyes screwed shut with reluctance. “...defend him.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Be honest, how hard was that for you to say?” You teased.

“I’m holding back vomit right now,” she laughed.

“Well then defend him quickly before you yack on my bed.”

“Okay, I just,” she paused to consider her words carefully. “I know you know Rafe really well. I mean you’re the only one he’s ever really let in, so you probably know him better than anyone. But I’ve known him longer than anyone. I’ve seen every version of him. I knew Rafe before he met you, and now I know him after he met you, and believe me when I tell you, those two are not the same guy. As cliche as it sounds, you changed him.”

You sat in silence, letting the words settle over you, surprised by how emotional they were making you. You willed the tears forming in your eyes not to fall.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a dick,” Sarah added. You were grateful for a reason to laugh before you started crying. “But he’s not the same. There was a time where I’d say ‘absolutely, Rafe definitely did this just to screw us over,’ but not anymore. Not since he fell in love with you.”

You looked up in surprise, the tears at your lash line threatening to finally spill over.

“You think he loves me?”

“Girl, be so for real. That man has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Believe me, he’s yours.”

Your heart skipped, and the tears finally fell. You rose from the bed so suddenly, Sarah almost fell back onto the mattress. You didn’t know what had taken over you, just that you needed to go, now. Everything in you was being pulled toward him, like sand being dragged back out to sea by the tide. If you spent one more minute of your life without him knowing what you were so certain of now, you might not make it.

Sarah smiled at you, she read it all over your face.

“Go!” She urged.

“Love you!” You shouted over your shoulder as you raced out of your bedroom.

“Love you too, you freak,” she smiled to herself, knowing you were already long gone.

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Where could he have gone? Your mind flipped through all the possibilities as you ran across the lawn toward the dock. JJ would probably be pissed that you took The Snapper without asking first, but didn’t even care about that right now. You just needed to find Rafe.

You didn’t have to search for long.

As soon as your feet hit the wooden dock, they stopped in their tracks.

At the end of the pier sat Rafe’s boat bobbing in the water. The long figure of your boyfriend leaned over the bow. You watched with a big, bright smile as he untied the line, then retied it, then untied it, and retied it once more. He was clearly having a silent disagreement with himself. All that mattered to you was that he hadn’t left.

You approached slowly, avoiding the planks in the dock you knew would creak and give away your presence. The closer you got to him, the faster your heart beat. The words you were dying to say sat perched at the end of your tongue, you knew they wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer.

Half way through untying the boat again, Rafe stopped and sighed.

“Need a push?” You said.

His eyes shot up to yours, startled. Tension filled his shoulders as he took you in, his shock quickly fading to something softer, yet still unsure.

“That depends,” he squinted in the sun to see you better.

God, he was gorgeous. You could not let him get away.

“Depends on what?” You played along.

“If my girlfriend will forgive me for being a dismissive prick,” he said.

You forced your lips not to twist into a smile, pretending to consider his words.

“I think she might. If you forgive her first,” you said.

His eyes softened, lips twitching. You were both failing not to smile at each other now.

Rafe finally tied up the boat for good, hopping up onto the dock. You admired every movement of his body as it drew closer to yours. When he reached you, he placed his hands on your waist, your arms drawing up to wrap around his neck, stretching up on your tiptoes to get as close to him as possible.

“She has nothing to apologize for. The only home she’s ever known is being threatened. She’s just scared. I get that.”

Every word fanned over you like a soft summer breeze. Your heart warmed, impossibly full despite all the anxieties today had brought. He just got you, he understood without you having to say it. This must be the closest two people can get to making magic, you thought.

“Thank you,” you let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. He kissed the top of your head.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered into your hair.

You looked back up at him, shaking your head.

“How is everything gonna be okay, Rafe? What if there really is nothing we can do? I mean, who’s even behind this?”

Rafe didn’t answer, but one name popped into his mind. Even with his suspicions, he didn’t know if he could help you. Helplessness was the feeling he despised more than any other, especially when it came to you.

“I don’t know,” he said, his heart breaking at the despairing look on your face. “But you’ve still got me. You could always move into the condo with me, like I’ve been begging you for months.”

“Can I bring my friends with me?” You scrunched up your nose, hoping he’d find you cute enough to say yes.

“I love you, but there’s no way in hell…”

A bolt of lightning shot through you, goosebumps erupting over your entire body. Did he really just say…?

He instantly read the shock on your face, but there was no look of regret on his.

“What? Haven’t I said I love you before?”

“Umm, no, I think I would’ve remembered that!” You couldn’t help the big, goofy grin taking over your whole face.

“Oh, well that’s weird,” he shrugged, his hands sliding from your waist to your lower back, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you off your feet. “Because I do love you, so fucking much.”

You yelped as he lifted you into the air, head falling back in laughter as he almost tumbled you both off the dock in his effort to sweep you off your feet.

You looked down at him and he lowered you slowly, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, arms still wrapped around each other like you’d never let go. You stood there embracing for a long time, so long that the sun was starting to set, casting a golden shimmer across the water.

Finally you said, “I never gave you the grand tour.”

“And I was really looking forward to seeing your crib,” he teased, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck when he talked.

“Well, c’mon then.” You grabbed his hand, leading him back toward the house, both of you buzzing with the excitement that there was something much better than a tour waiting for you inside.

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“...And this is John B and JJ’s room,�� you opened the door only a crack, afraid to unleash the stench that permanently filled the space. “They insisted on getting bunk beds even though they’re, like, forty. And Pope insisted on having his own room because, as he said, ‘JJ is a walking biohazard.’ Which is…fair.”

Rafe was just watching you with adoration as you showed him around the house. He was barely looking at the rooms you were showing him because he was so focused on the way you glowed with joy. It was true that he wanted you to move to Bayline with him, it was his life’s goal to get you there, actually, but he had to admit that you seemed like you really belonged here. He’d never seen you look more at home.

“And this is our gallery wall.” You gestured to the display of framed photographs hanging in the upstairs hallway.

Rafe surveyed them dutifully with his hands tucked politely behind his back, like an old man in an art museum. Most of the photographs were of you and the pogues at various times in your life. Out fishing in the marsh, riding dirt bikes, post-surf at the beach. You admired the way Rafe was looking so intently and resisting the urge to grimace at so many photos of you with his once sworn enemies.

He explored the wall, eyes lingering on any photo of you a little longer than the rest. The hall continued to lead down toward your bedroom. At the very end, in a high corner, just above a series of photo booth pictures you’d taken with Sarah and Kie last summer, hung a delicate circular frame featuring a worn-out picture almost too small to see. Rafe leaned in for a better look.

In the photo, which was a tad faded and clearly taken several years ago, was a young guy, probably about 30, holding two young kids on his lap. The slightly bigger one, a boy, held up a trout he’d just caught, flashing a toothless grin. The little girl beamed at the man holding her.

It took Rafe a moment, but when he felt your weight shift next to him uncomfortably, he put it all together. The photo was you, JJ, and Luke. Probably the only one you had. And despite everything Luke had put you through, you’d hung it on the wall to see everyday.

Rafe turned to you, you were looking down at your feet, toes digging anxiously into the rug. His heart ached. If anyone knew what it was like to have a complicated relationship with their father, it was him. The fact that you’d still given Luke some dignity in this house he almost destroyed so many times said so much about you, and reminded him why he loved you so much.

“You wanna show me your room now?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a small smile, “yeah.”

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The door clicked closed softly. Rafe took in the room, immediately identifying which bed was yours and which bed (the messy, half-made one) was his sister’s.

“Sarah doesn’t spend much time in here,” you admitted.

“No?” He asked, keeping his eyes off of you, the closed door suddenly adding a nervous energy to the room he wasn’t expecting.

“She mainly sleeps with John B.” Rafe grimaced, you hurried to reassure him. “Like, in his bed I mean, or his bunk I guess. Not, like sleep with him sleep with him, although I’m sure there’s plenty of that -”

“I’m literally begging you to stop talking,” he said, his eyes finding the ceiling, no doubt trying to erase the mental picture you just created for him.

“Sorry,” you chuckled.

Rafe wandered around the room some more, taking in all your decorations. He never understood why someone could collect so many knick-knacks that seemed to be worth nothing, but there was something endearing about it that drew him to you even more. Just another in a long line of things that would annoy him with someone else, but enchanted him with you.

As your time alone in the room dragged on, the air became tenser. You felt yourself watching him, but unable to move, back pressed up against the door, frozen in anticipation.

You and Rafe had been alone together before - and you had been together before - but something had shifted out on that dock. Something that you knew you couldn’t take back, and didn’t want to. In fact, you only wanted to solidify it more.

“Rafe,” you said softly, finally pulling his attention away from your decor.

He looked up at you expectantly, like he had been waiting for you to give him permission to. He didn’t respond, just walked slowly toward you, his eyes on yours the whole way. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” you said, trying to laugh to break the tension, though the sound came out more like a hiccup.

“Has something changed?” He wondered aloud.

“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “Because today I realized two important things.”

“What two things?” He asked, surprised, and a little alarmed, by your answer.

“The first is that this is my home, and that in a way, it will always be my home. And yet at the same time, I also realized that you’re my future, and I love you.”

Rafe’s smile spread slowly, like he was taking in each word one at a time. His blue eyes sparkled - like actually sparkled - with joy. Maybe you were imagining it, but it didn’t matter, you just wanted him to keep looking at you like that.

“Oh you love me, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, he stepped closer until he was towering over you.

“Yeah, haven’t I said that before?” You echoed his words from earlier back to him.

He just shook his head at you, tucking his tongue in the corner of his cheek to try and tame his smile. His hands found your waist like they were made to fit there. His voice carried down to your very core as he leaned in.

“You know you can’t take it back now, right?”

“Why would I take it back? I mean it, Rafe, with everything I have. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And he showed you. His body enveloping yours as he backed you up against the door and kissed you deeply. A whole new energy between you now, your need and your affection for each other stronger than ever.

Before you could get carried away, footsteps on the stairs reminded you of a very crucial step of bringing your boyfriend home.

“Wait, hold on.” You pulled away from Rafe and he frowned. His disappointment was so cute you were tempted to kiss the pout right off of him, but first you rummaged through a drawer in you and Sarah’s shared dresser.

“What is that?” Rafe asked when you pulled out a conch shell glued to a piece of twine.

“Just a little system Sarah and I have.” You winked at him, opening the door just a crack to hang the shell from the doorknob.

“Do I want to know?” Rafe asked.

“I don’t know, do you want to talk more about your sister’s love life, or work on ours?” You bit back your smile when he cringed at your words, suddenly realizing Sarah’s use for the shell with a shudder.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, before scooping you up and carrying you over his shoulder, just to drop you on the bed with a bounce.

“Yes, I am,” you smiled up at him.

And he showed you, over and over, just how lucky you were.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

It was different this time, more passionate, more intense, more everything. And when he held you after, whispering more I love you’s into your hair, and neck, and the side of your face, you knew it must’ve felt the same for him, too.

You laid tucked into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could intertwine his fingers with yours as you both stared up at the ceiling in pure bliss.

You sighed a happy, airy sigh and nuzzled closer to him.

“You know I just mean for now, right?” You said.

He twisted his neck at what must’ve been an uncomfortable angle to try and see your face.

“You just love me for now?” He asked, incredulous.

“No, no!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say, this is just my home for now.”

“Oh, okay,” he rested his head back onto the pillow. “That’s better, I guess.”

You sat up, shuffling through the sheets so you could see him. You brought your legs up and sat criss cross on the bed next to him. Rafe lazily reached out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear as he waited for the words he knew you were trying to formulate. He loved that you thought so hard before speaking, always determined to say what you mean. You loved that he waited to hear what you had to say, a patience he reserved almost exclusively for you.

“I know it must seem weird,” you began, “that I’m so attached to a place with so many bad memories. And I know you want me to live with you, and I want that too, eventually. But you have to understand, for so much of my life, it was just me and JJ. It was just us in this house. Even though a lot of it was us hiding from Luke or fending for ourselves when he didn’t come home for days at a time, there are good memories hidden in all the bad ones. Like, at the bottom of the stairs, there’s a spot where JJ and I accidentally ran our sled into the wall when we were stair-surfing. We covered it with chewed bubblegum and colored it in with marker, and Luke never noticed. Or in the kitchen, there’s tally marks under the countertop where we used to keep track of how many beers Luke had so we knew when it was time to go to John B’s for the night. And on the old dock, where our store is now, we made each other a pinky promise that someday we’d grow up and make something of ourselves and buy this house right out from under him. And we did it! And now, they’re just going to, what, take it away? Punish us for rising above the low expectations that they set for us? We were hurt here, yeah. But we also survived here. We did it together. I can’t leave that, or him, not now, not yet.”

Rafe drank in your words, and when tears came, he didn’t wipe them away or tell you to stop crying, he just let them fall. Let you feel what you needed to feel. His hand stayed firmly rested on your leg, there to hold only if you wanted it.

Through sobs you finally said, “this is our home, Rafe. We’re gonna lose our home.”

He’d heard enough. He stood from the bed quickly, pulling on his khakis and polo wordlessly.

“Where are you going?”

Rafe turned to look at you, saw the worry in your eyes and leaned over your bed so his face was level with yours. You would have been frightened by the steel in his eyes if you weren’t so excited by it.

“You asked me how it was going to be okay, right?” He said, voice low and tinged with danger.

You just nodded, unsure what to make of this sudden change in demeanor.

“It’s going to be okay because I’m going to make it okay.”

With that he stood and stalked toward the door, stopping to look at you one more time.

“Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be back in a bit.”

You didn’t bother to ask where he was going, you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. When he had a plan like this, there was no slowing him down. Usually, his plans were self-serving. He was a strategist, like his father. Only now, it seemed, you were the beneficiary of his plot, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

It sure as hell wasn’t the doorbell ringing at two in the morning.

It had started to storm and the thunder was rumbling through the house. It took a few rings before you could even hear the doorbell over the sound of the rain. Sarah lay on one side of you, Kie on the other, Cleo at the foot of the bed. They’d come to comfort you after Rafe left and you all cried yourself to sleep talking about the future of Poguelandia.

You accidentally kicked Cleo when you got up, who then kicked Sarah, who reached over and hit Kie in the arm as if it was her fault. Everyone was awake now.

“Noise. Bad. Make it stop,” Sarah grumbled into her pillow.

“Hit me again and I’ll make you stop breathing,” Kie said, her threat a little deflated considering she made it with her eyes still closed.

The doorbell rang out again, in rapid succession this time, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.

“Who the hell rings the doorbell at 2 a.m.?” Sarah whined.

“If it’s those goddamn Jehovah’s Witnesses again, I’m gonna shove their little pamphlet down their throats,” Cleo said.

“I’ll get it,” you said through a yawn.

“Wait, you’re gonna go alone?” Kie grabbed your hand to pull you back.

“What if you get murdered?” Sarah said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

Kie and Sarah both climbed out of bed with you, but Cleo didn’t budge.

“If you get murdered let me know,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter around her. “I will avenge you.”

Kie rolled her eyes and pulled the blankets off Cleo, Sarah grabbed her hand to drag her from the bed.

“You’re coming with us, babe,” Sarah said over Cleo’s protests. “And bring your knife.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Lightning struck somewhere across the marsh at the exact second the door flew open. You and all three girls, wrapped in your blankets and holding various kitchen utensils, screamed at the sight on the other side. A dark figure of a man stood on the front porch, too far from the light for anyone to make out his identity. Cleo stepped in front of you all with her knife wielded.

“Hey! You better show yourself or get lost,” she shouted at the figure.

As the man slowly made his way into the flickering porch light, you realized you recognized the broad curve of those shoulders, the slope of that neck.

“Rafe,” you whispered.

Just as you identified him, the porch light swept across his face, and all four of you gasped.

The same places on his face you’d laid gentle kisses just a few hours ago were now black and blue, except in the places they were bloody. And he wasn’t walking slowly toward the light, he was limping, barely able to stand. He leaned against the door frame, holding his right hand in his left, his knuckles were raw and wounded.

“Rafe!” You repeated, pushing past your friends to get to him. You tried to support his weight but you couldn’t manage it alone. Sarah came to his other side to help catch him as he stumbled forward.

Kie, however, took a defensive step backward, her arms crossed over her chest. Cleo kept her knife raised.

“Think you can put down the knife now, babe,” Sarah told her.

“You never know,” Cleo said, narrowing her eyes at Rafe.

“Cleo, look at him,” you scolded.

She gave Rafe a once over, finally determining he wasn’t a threat in this state.

“Let’s get him on the couch,” you told Sarah. “Quickly, before he falls.”

Cleo stepped away to allow you to walk Rafe further into the living room. Kie created more distance between herself and your bloodied house guest. You searched her face quickly, it was a mixture of alarm and defensiveness. You could see the decision as it was being made, you tried to stop her but you were too late.

“Kie, wait!”

But she was already running up the stairs, surely to wake the boys. There was no version of these circumstances that would be made better by your half-awake, hotheaded brother.

You and Sarah finally got Rafe on the couch. He leaned forward, grimacing in pain as he propped his head in his hands. You knelt in front of him, trying to find his eyes with yours.

“Rafe, baby, what happened? Are you okay? Please talk to me.”

You placed your hands on his legs, rubbing soothing circles, begging him to fill the silence with an explanation. You looked at Sarah with pure panic in your eyes, she looked back with concern. Whether it was for you or for her brother, you weren’t sure.

“Rafe, it’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell us,” she encouraged him.

You’d never been more thankful for your best friend. You knew how much it took for her to offer him comfort like that.

You reached up to cup Rafe’s cheek in your hand, touching gently so as to not worsen his pain.

“Please, baby, what happened?”

He finally looked at you, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought maybe he was going to confess something terrible, or else cry out in agony. But instead, he just smiled that soft, sleepy half-smile of his and placed his hand over top of yours, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“I made it okay,” he whispered to you.

Before you could react, footsteps thundered down the stairs behind you, the fury of their descent louder than the storm outside.

“What the hell is going on?” JJ bellowed.

“What are you doing here, Cameron?” Pope followed up.

John B rushed to Sarah’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Everything okay?” He asked the both of you.

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, rising to sit next to Rafe on the couch, slipping your hand into his. The sight only enraged JJ further.

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself and stop bleeding on our fucking couch, Rafe.” JJ barked.

“Jay, can’t you see he’s obviously hurt?” You snapped at your brother.

“Looks more like he did the hurting,” JJ replied.

“You don’t know that! You always assume the worst!” You yelled.

“Because he is the worst!” JJ yelled right back.

You stood in anger, ready to fight your own brother in defense of the man at your side. But Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him, not lifting his head as he held you in place. His other hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that had been folded to protect it from the rain.

Rafe looked up finally, but not at you, at JJ. He extended his arm to offer JJ the piece of paper.

JJ tiptoed over as if Rafe had somehow booby trapped the floorboards between them. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

With all eyes on him, and no sound but the storm outside, JJ unfolded the piece of paper. He read it for a long time. Like, a really long time. The little sister in you had to bite back a joke about his intellect, and you met eyes with Pope to see he was holding back the same comment. Even in this incredibly adult moment, you were kids together.

Finally, JJ looked up from the paper. Staring incredulously at Rafe.

“Is this for real?” JJ asked him, eyebrows raised.

Rafe just nodded, the movement causing the cut on his lip to open, making him wince in pain. You sat down beside him again, watching him anxiously for signs that he was hurt elsewhere.

JJ just stared at the two of you for a moment before turning and leaving the room, dropping the piece of paper on the coffee table as he left. Pope and John B went to it immediately to read what had caused JJ to storm out, but you didn’t even care at this point, all that mattered was Rafe being okay, you needed him to be okay.

Except, JJ hadn’t stormed out. He had only gone to the kitchen, from which he was now returning, a bottle of whiskey and a bag of frozen peas in hand. He offered both to Rafe, Rafe opted for the whiskey. He twisted open the cap and took a sip, wincing as it went down.

You grabbed the peas from your brother, holding them up to Rafe’s black eye. He flinched at the contact but settled after a minute. JJ watched as Rafe placed his hand on your leg gratefully and handed back the bottle of whiskey.

“What’s the bourbon for? Drowning our sorrows?” Cleo asked.

“No,” John B said, he and Pope looking up from the paper with disbelieving grins. “Celebrating.”

“What does it say?” Kie asked, stepping further into the room, though she continued to eye Rafe like he was a wild animal that could go feral at any minute.

“We got the land back. They’re not rezoning,” Pope explained. “We’re keeping Poguelandia.”

The room froze for a minute, then erupted in a burst of hoots and hollers. Finally, the storm had some noise to compete with. The others hugged and cheered. Sarah rose from the couch and threw herself into John B’s arms.

“How’d you do it, man?” John B asked Rafe.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe said, squeezing your leg three times. “I just took care of it, okay?”

He sounded aggressive, like he always did when addressing these six people, but you saw this for what it really was - a peace offering. A grand gesture. A declaration of his love for you. He gave you your home back, he gave you everything.

As the others continued to celebrate, the volume in the house reaching new heights as they passed around the bottle of whiskey and toasted Poguelandia, you leaned into Rafe, your chin tucked into his shoulder so you could whisper something in his ear.

He smiled at your words, raising his arm to wrap around your shoulders and curling you toward him so he could bring his lips to your temple.

“I love you, too.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

a/n: had to come out of retirement for this one, missed my boy too much. and holy shit did I have fun writing for rafey again. also this is as canon as I'll write Rafe lol

oh, and what did rafe have to do to get Poguelandia back? That stays between me and him xoxo

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behidethetrees · 3 days ago

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Hiccup as your boyfriend!

Pairing: Hiccup Haddock x fem! Reader

Contents: Lover boy hiccup, fluff, toothless mention <3

- You had known of hiccup since you were a kid. He is the son of stoick the vast, but he didnt act like it. He was clumsy, often tripping over his own two feet. Always causing chaos when he tried to help fight, and just wasnt cut out to be the next cheif of berk.

- Hiccup admired you from afar. He watched you as you trained, as you flicked your long hair back from your sweaty face and often adjusted your oversized viking hat that he thought was adorable. The determined look on your face and the way you swiftly moved through the air onto the ground with your sword caused a lump in his throat and his eyes to widen. As much as he loved watching you, he hated what you were training for because little did you know, or anyone knew, he had a dragon of his own.

- The day that you realized he just might be something was the day he saved you from a dragon. You were pinned down and helpless when a large dark figure flew over you and you felt human hands grab your waist. You were quickly thrown into the air, You noticed it was Hiccup that had grabbed you and sat you on a dragon that blended into the dark night sky. You hugged his back tightly, "Hiccup!" you screamed. “Its okay! Let me show you!” He yelled back. He flew you all through berk on his night fury and your fear slowly started to fade away. Since then, you and Hiccup became inseparable. Your new friendship surprised everyone that knew you and the boys in berk that wouldn’t leave you alone scoff out of jealousy. Hiccup had taught you that dragons werent dangerous, everyday you went with him to visit his night fury, toothless. Toothless showered you with affection just like he did with hiccup. In return, you taught hiccup skills for fighting and hunting. You two spent many days walking together in the forest, flying around, laughing. But you’d never forget the day you finally kissed him. His soft chapped lips were so sweet it gave you a toothache. The way he melted into your kiss and held your face in his hands like thats all they were made for.

- Hiccup is all about you. He carved your initials everywhere like his sword, the side of his helmet, on his gear. He is so loyal to the point he hates even being around another girl. He makes sure to ALWAYS mention he has a girlfriend. He is constantly talking about you to anyone, even if they had heard him a million times already. He talks about your days together, your accomplishments, how much he loves you. He often slacks off during tasks because his mind is so occupied with thoughts of you.

- Hiccup is big on physical touch. He loves to put his arm around your shoulder and hold you close as you two walk, grab your waist and pull you into a kiss, hug you from the back and bury his face into your neck. little things like fidgeting with your hair, with the fur on your clothes or holding hands. Everytime you two cuddle, he caresses your face and looks you in the eye, saying the sweetest things you've ever heard in the gentlest tone. He loves feeling close to you.

- Hiccup is fiercely protective over you. Hes also quite possessive, he watches everyone like a hawk, making sure no one gives you weird looks or talks down on you. The one time someone did, He almost got toothless to kill them until You stepped in. He knows you can defend yourself but he doesnt let you. He loves to take care of you and a part of his brain goes crazy at the thought of him not being there for you. He loves showing you off, twirling you around and kissing you in public, he loves showing that the most beautiful and strongest girl in berk is his.

- The little things matter to Hiccup. Doing absolutely nothing with you means absolutely everything to him. Embracing each other in silence meant more to him than anything this world could offer him. He kept everything that reminded him of you. your knife, a piece of your clothing, rocks that you picked out, The small doodles you would randomly give to him were in a neat stack beside his bed. every night he would go through them and softly smile, you often did things for him and it made it easier for Hiccup to sleep at night Knowing you thought about him and loved him.

- Hiccup loves long talks. You two sit on the edge of a cliff, watching the dragons fly and the clouds move while talking about anything ranging from funny jokes to deep, intelligent conversations. But with these conversations, Hiccup often feels like you’re too good for him. Youre so smart and brave and strong, He felt like he wasnt any of those things. He tends to overthink too much and hurt his own feelings, he needs constant Reassurance. Whenever you hold him, twirling strands of his hair with your finger, Saying words that sends unexplainable amounts of joy to his heart, He lets himself believe everything will be okay.

- Hiccup never had a clear view of his future. For the longest time he thought he was meant for failure and yearning for love for the rest of his life. but the course of his life took a drastic turn when he met toothless, he became the first viking to train a dragon. It took an even bigger turn when you found your way to Hiccup. He became the luckiest man in the world. Hiccup looked at you as the sun shined on your smooth skin, the sound of your soft breathing as you slept on toothless’s side with your little fingertips touching his hand, he knew you and his dragon was all he would ever need.

Requests!

A/N: hellloooo…? Remember me guys…? Im back!Its been a long year away i missed you guys! im currently obsesssing over the httyd live action so i decided a short cute hc would be perfect for my comeback <3 my obx and long fics WILL return dont worry guys, hope you enjoy!!!

#hiccup haddock x reader #hiccup x reader #httyd x reader #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #hiccup how to train your dragon #httyd #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #hiccup horrendous haddock the 3rd #toothless #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #hiccup imagines

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mooningningg · 8 hours ago

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JJK Rock Band when you're being shipped with another member.

ᴊᴊᴋ ʀᴏᴄᴋ ʙᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

Notes, lovely anon for requesting this.

★ Drummer!Sukuna, being shipped with Toji.

Sukuna is drinking his coffee when Gojo says it.

"Yo, did you see that post? ‘Toji x that girl who’s always with them’? That’s literally you and your girl."

Sukuna stares at him.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"It had like 60k likes. They said Toji looked at her like she was his whole world."

Sukuna doesn’t blink. Just turns his head and starts glaring at Toji mid-soundcheck.

Toji, blinking: "What?"

Sukuna gave him a dead glare, "Why’re you making eye contact with my girl?"

Toji furrows his brows, "Bro. She said hi."

Sukuna won’t speak to you for like an hour. Just scoffs and slams the kick pedal louder than usual every time he sees your name trending next to Toji’s.

Eventually, you catch him sulking in the van.

"Are you seriously mad about internet comments?"

"They said you’d have prettier kids with Toji."

You climb onto his lap and kiss his jaw. "They’re wrong."

Sukuna grumbles, wrapping his arms around you like a seatbelt. "Damn right they are."

★ Vocalist!Gojo, being shipped with Choso.

Gojo’s mid-hair routine when he opens Twitter and sees:

"that soft girl who follows Gojo around all the time and choso? soulmates. i said what i said."

He freezes, holding the flat iron in one hand.

Satoru exclaims, "I’m gonna be sick."

Suguru turns to look at him, "You okay?"

"No. They’re giving my girl to the goth piano man."

He spends the whole day pouting.

At practice, he refuses to sing Choso’s harmonies properly. He sings them off-key on purpose.

Choso looks at him, eyes half lidded, "...Did I do something?"

"Nothing. Just stole my life partner, but whatever."

Later, you bring Gojo a drink, and he won’t even look at you.

You finally bring it up, "You're being weird."

Gojo replies, "Do you think he'd write you poems?"

"I literally bring you snacks and chapstick daily."

He softens. "You're right. I'm the total package."

Then he snaps a selfie with you and captions it: “me and the girl you can’t have 🧃❤️”

★ Guitarist!Suguru, being shipped with Gojo.

He finds the edit while scrolling late at night. It’s a clip of Gojo tossing you his sunglasses and you putting them on while laughing.

“Gojo x her is the sunshine duo we DESERVE.”

Suguru just stares at the screen, expression unreadable.

Next morning, he sends it to Gojo with no context.

Gojo: "LMAO do they know she falls asleep on your chest?"

Suguru: "Apparently not."

That night, Suguru brings you coffee, sets it down gently, then murmurs, "Don’t wear his sunglasses again."

You blink. "Wait, is this about that video?"

He doesn't answer. Just lifts your chin and kisses you.

A minute later he posts a blurry photo of your hands intertwined on his story with the caption:

“sunshine? she’s always been mine.”

Gojo reposts it and adds: “don’t be jealous I’m prettier 💋”

Suguru blocks him for 24 hours.

★ Bassist!Toji, being shipped with Suguru.

Toji doesn't do Twitter. But he does hear about it from Gojo, who will never let it go.

"They said Suguru and your girl give off forbidden lovers energy."

Toji raises an eyebrow. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means people think she should’ve chosen him instead."

Toji looks across the room where you're laughing at something Suguru said.

He walks over. Picks up your bag.

"We’re leaving."

You blink. "Wait, what? We just got here."

"Too much forbidden love in this room. Come on."

Later that night, he gives you his hoodie and tugs you close while you're brushing your teeth.

"You like his hair or something?"

"You’re the one I fall asleep next to."

He grunts. Satisfied.

Next gig, he wears a shirt that says: “she’s with the bassist. stay mad.”

He doesn’t say a word about it.

★ Keyboardist!Choso, being shipped with Sukuna.

Choso finds a clip of Sukuna teasing you and you throwing a napkin at him. Someone zoomed in on Sukuna smirking and wrote:

“why does sukuna lowkey flirt with her like they’re already married 😭”

Choso stares at it.

Closes his phone.

Later, Sukuna throws a drumstick toward your chair at rehearsal and grins when you roll your eyes.

Choso is silent the entire practice.

Afterward, you ask, "Are you mad?"

He shakes his head. "Just… quiet today."

Then adds, "Do you think he’s hotter?"

You almost choke. "Are you serious?"

Choso shrugs. "I wear all black. He wears no sleeves."

You wrap your arms around his neck.

"He’s loud. You’re home."

That night, he posts a quiet video of you leaning against his shoulder in the green room, captioned:

“not loud, not flashy, still hers.”

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all-with-angel · 19 hours ago

Text

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Diet Pepsi

...by Addison Rae

❥ ModernBf!Sukuna x Reader

Or how late nights at nowhere are spent with Sukuna.

❥ suggestive warning!

Made for Angels Birthday Event!

The hood of Sukuna’s car was still warm from the drive, but it wasn’t the metal beneath you that made your skin buzz - it was him.

“Why are you smiling like that?” you asked, breathless and half-dazed from the last kiss he’d pulled you into. His lips were still hovering near yours, like he was always seconds away from another. His arm was slung lazily around your waist, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. Greedy.

Sukuna scoffed, voice low as he rolls his eyes. Only for them to meet yours again. “You got a problem?”

“Quite the opposite.” you shot back, playful, even as your heart pounded like it was trying to escape your ribcage. You give him another quick peck, soft against your lips and far too short of a kiss than what he’d like. “You’re so cute when you smile.”

“Oh, please.” He leaned in again, mouth brushing yours as he mumbled, “I’m not the cute one here. Besides -” Sukuna grins, that sharp, canine smirk that reeked of danger. “You practically melt every time I look at you like this.”

“I do not -”

He kissed you mid-sentence, effectively shutting you up in the most unfair way possible. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, until your legs were tangled over his and you had no choice but to cling to him. You grumble into the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. You could practically feel his smirk grow as you two continued the kiss, heated and wanting to prove something. What were you trying to prove? You don’t know, and fairly don't care.

You shoved his shoulder gently when you finally came up for air. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Only because you keep proving me right.” He looked so damn satisfied with himself, mostly because he knew he was right.

“Gods, you’re such a pain.”

“Yeah? And yet here you are, straddling me on my car in the middle of nowhere.”

“Touché.”

He grinned, full and open and devastatingly pretty under the moonlight. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, he leaned into the touch almost instinctively - humming at every motion. A mischievous smile graces your face as Sukuna closes his eyes, and you tug on his hair. A little harsh.

His crimson eyes snap open. “Oi!” Tone annoyed, yet there was still a reluctant smile in his sneer. “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna forget where we are.”

You tilted your head. “You mean the middle of nowhere? Where no one can see us?”

“Oh,” he said, eyes flashing. “So that was your plan.”

You smirked. "Maybe."

"Oh - You brat."

A.N. I need. I need to make out with him. I need to make out with him so bad

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #modern au #angels drabbles •°. *࿐#༊*·˚angels b-day event༉‧₊˚.

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rafesteddy · 1 day ago

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+ 18 -> smut | rafe promised you’d get an A on your group project…

c/w: degradation, overstimulation, orgasm denial, pain play, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, humiliation, possessive language, crying, begging, swearing, pet name, name calling, cum tasting, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, dom!reader + sub!rafe *they have a safeword

1.1K

“I said I was sorry. I just—I… Fucking please—”

“Shut up, Rafe. I’m not stopping. Not until I see tears. I want you hoarse from this shit so I don’t have to hear another excuse about why you couldn’t focus.”

He’s sprawled on your bed, sheets twisted beneath him, hands fisting the comforter. His strong chest heaves, thick thighs twitching, long cock slick and leaking on your hand.

“You looked so pretty,” he chokes, eyes wide, glossy. “You were reading your part and I was trying to pay attention—you know I was—but you. You were in that tight dress, and your voice, and your thighs and—fuuuck. Sh-Shit. It’s your fuckin’ fault—”

You raise an eyebrow. “My fault? Mine, Rafe?”

“I got nervous,” he breathes, “I got so fuckin’ nervous and you smelled so nice. Why were you standin’ so close, huh? And your mouth was all shiny and I just—I blanked, alright?”

“You promised we’d get an A.”

“I know,” he whines, a tear finally slipping loose. “We got an A-minus. That’s not an A. That’s not what I promised you,” he sobs as you fist him faster.

“That’s right,” you murmur, grip tightening on his shaft. “It’s not.”

Fifteen minutes post-nut and he’s still hard. Still whimpering for you. Still chasing the second climax you keep denying him. His body trembles under you; muscles quaking like he’s about to crumble under your touch.

“You can’t do that to me in front of the class,” he babbles. “You know what you do to me. My head goes empty and I just wanna… Mmm… I could take you in front of the whole fuckin’ class I swear to Christ. ‘Specially when you start talkin’ like that—SHIT! You slap his balls, light but sharp. He sobs, thighs snapping shut, back arching off the mattress. “Shit. Stop. Stop—”

“Ugh, fine...”

You pull back with a wicked smile, hands literally dripping with him as panic colors his pretty, pathetic features. “No! No, wait—don’t stop. Just don’t—don’t do that,” he begs, voice cracking. “You can’t just stop…”

“I was listening,” you hum, lips brushing his tip as you flick your tongue across it, slow, teasing. “Doing what you told me to do… At least one of us can do that,” His moan catches and breaks as his eyes roll back in his head.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he pants. “You’re gonna fucking end me like this.”

“Oh, Rafey…” You pout. “That so?”

He nods helplessly as his bottom lip wobbles; eyes shimmering, wet with tears.

“You’re such a fucking idiot sometimes,” you sigh in disappointment as you wrap your hand around his cock again, stroking cruel and slow. “You know that?”

“I know,” he gasps. “I’m an idiot. I’m your idiot. I fucked it up and I know I did. I’m sorry, baby—”

“You should be,” you whisper, letting your warm breath fan across his throbbing head. “You know who would make a good partner—”

“Don’t say it…”

“Oh, so you know—”

“Don’t fuckin’ say it,” he whimpers.

“Pope… Pope would make a really, really great partner. Maybe, I should start going for baseball boys, huh? What do you think, Cameron—”

“You wouldn’t. You’re bein’ mean.”

You let your hand fall away again as he whines. “I could be meaner.”

“Please don’t do that to me,” he begs as you rise up on your knees, looking down at him underneath you.

Rafe’s eyes lock on you, heavy and hungry as the cotton clings to your pussy. “Fuck me,” he says. “Please. I don’t deserve you… I just wanna feel you. Don’t tease me anymore. M’gonna pass out—I’m so fuckin’ close.”

You pull your panties to the side and his cock throbs, cum spurting messily between your thighs before his tip even touches you.

You giggle, looking down at the man below you; cheeks flushed, lashes wet, breathing ragged.

“Rafe Cameron… What the fuck was that?”

“I’m so sorry—” he starts, but you shove your cum-slick fingers into his mouth and climb onto him. He chokes on the taste of himself just as you sink down, inch by inch, your cunt squeezing around him as he gasps around your digits.

Rafe cries out, head tossed back, hands flying up to grip your hips, big biceps flexing to hold you in place; his jaw set like stone. You take his cheeks in one hand, force him to look at you. “I’m sorry—”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

His eyes slam shut and he nods. Your hands rest on his chest; heart hammering against your palms. His fingers dig into the flesh of your curves as you slide up and down, making his jaw fall open.

You pause, still seated fully on him, feeling the pulse of his dick deep inside. “I love you,” he slurs like he’s wasted on it. His bottom lip finds its way between his teeth, nose flaring, breath caught as you start to roll your hips. “I fucking love you,” he repeats, so pathetically you sigh. “Even like this—‘Specially like this. I’ve never been this happy in my life,” he sniffles, barely pushing the words past his swollen, kiss-bit lips.

“You love me, huh?”

He nods again, shakier this time. “So fucking much. I mean it,” he says, eyes wide, looking up at you like he might fall apart. “I’d fail every fuckin’ class if it meant I could have you like this.”

You laugh, soft and disbelieving. “Then maybe start by taking me out first.”

“Wait—really?” His voice cracks.

“I might even let you pay.”

Rafe moans like the idea of dating you is just as overwhelming as being inside you. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, pulling you down to press his forehead against yours, slick with sweat and pleading. “I’ll take you anywhere. Whatever you want—”

“You’re such a loser for me,” you murmur, brushing the stubble on his cheek.

“I am…”

You kiss him until he’s gasping into your mouth, and he shatters for a third time with your name on his lips, pulling you with him; pussy fluttering around him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, voice hoarse. “Thank you, baby…”

Your nails drag slow down his chest as a smirk tugs at his lips—faint, worn out, like he already knows you’re not done. “You’re this gone over an A-minus?” He nods, eyes glassy, barely able to hold your gaze. “What the hell are you gonna do when you finally get it right?”

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe smut #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #hockey!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #hockey!rafe #hockey rafe #college rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #zyafics mrgacampaign

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lambiconic · 2 days ago

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a coffee shop confrontation

in case you haven't.. you should read the first four!: simon , gaz , johnny , price , the aftermath

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The sun is low, casting warm golden light through the front windows as the café finally begins to slow down. Just a handful of customers,thirty minutes left until closing, and you behind the counter, wiping down surfaces and counting the minutes.

You haven’t seen any of your usuals today. No familiar grins, no cheeky orders or even Simon’s hard stare and silence. It’s been...quiet. Oddly so. Almost…suspiciously so.

You tried to shake off the feeling as you continued to clean behind the register. Your back to the door as you hear the bell above it chime. Once. Twice. Then a third time. And finally a fourth.

“Welcome! Give me just a second!” You call out to the customers, forcing a smile on your face. At least four people 10 minutes til closing? What ASSHOLES, do people even think to check when stores close before coming?

You stand up straight, wiping your hands on your pants as you lift your gaze and freeze.

Johnny, Gaz, Simon, and Price. All four at the same time, honestly it would feel like Christmas if they weren’t staring at you like this was an intervention.

You blink, offering a cautious smile as you look between the men. “Uh… hi? The..usual..s?”

Johnny was the first to step forward, another bouquet of fresh flowers in hand. Despite the other three men reminding him what this trip was for he insisted he couldn’t arrive empty handed! (Definitely not so that if you feel you have to make a decision you’d pick him.)

“Hey, bonnie,” he starts, voice unusually tight. “Got a minute?”

You could feel knots in your stomach as you offered a small nod. Clearly, you’re in trouble. “...Sure?”

The men exchange looks before approaching the counter together, like they’d rehearsed this in the parking lot. Gaz clears his throat. “Okay, so just going to get straight to it. We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“A situation,” you repeat, crossing your arms.

“A situation.” The men parrot.

Price folded his arms behind him, watching like this was some kind of disciplinary hearing. “It’s come to our attention,” he said carefully, “that you’ve been... spreading the charm around.”

“Spreading..the charm.” You say carefully, fighting the urge to grin.

Johnny leaned forward on the counter, eyes narrowed in playful accusation. “Ye been flirting, lass. With all of us.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, arms folded. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You’ve got us wrapped around your little apron string.”

They keep at it. Questions, teasing accusations, pointed smirks that blur the line between confrontation and flirtation. Simon’s practically hanging off the counter, demanding to know which wink meant something. Gaz is staring into the cup of tea you offered him, grinning because you remembered what he likes. Johnny won’t stop holding those flowers in your line of sight. And somehow, Price has taken it upon himself to help you stack chairs like he’s the assistant manager now.

And as you flip the “CLOSED” sign and start dimming the lights, one thought keeps circling in your head:

What exactly did you do wrong?

Because the reality of the situation is: you didn’t chase any of them. They came to you. One after the other. Different days. Different energy. You flirted, sure, but you flirt with half the customers that walk in!! It's called good service. You didn’t give them keys to your apartment. You didn’t propose via a note on a cup!!!

Your brows furrow as you wipe down the last table, side-eyeing them still hovering.

Four separate men. All of them DEATHLY attractive in entirely different, annoyingly effective ways. None of them bothered to mention they were friends, coworkers, whatever the hell they are!!! In fact, it seems to you that they didn't even know they were all regulars here! And now you’re the one being interrogated like a war criminal?

You pause mid-wipe.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong,” you say aloud, mostly to yourself.

Gaz glances up from where he’s fiddling with a sugar packet. “Sorry, what was that?”

You place the rag down and turn to them, arms crossing. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Y'all are coming at me like I led a coordinated mission to seduce you all.”

Gaz opens his mouth. Closes it. Then says, “I mean... you did kind of—”

“I flirted.” You quickly interrupt, “Like a normal person! With guys who displayed interest in me FIRST.”

Johnny holds up a finger. “But ye flirted with us. Like, all of us.”

“And how was I supposed to know you were a.. group? Unit? A gaggle?” you snap, gesturing at them. “What are you, some kind of... handsome avengers?”

Simon lets out the quietest snort you've ever heard, quickly turning around to fake a cough.

Price clears his throat. “141, actually.”

Your eyes narrow. “Is that your fantasy football team or a boy band?”

“Its an elite ta—” Price quickly cuts Johnny off with a glare and an elbow. “We’re...we work together. Military.”

That information does absolutely nothing to help your case. But it does make a few things click. Obviously, you can do no wrong! But, if you and your co workers were all interested in the same guy you’d feel similarly.

Maybe not gang up on him at his job similarly but details details!

You purse your lips, pausing as you think. “So what now? You gonna make me pick?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Gaz, leaning against the counter like this is his moment, smirks. “Only fair.”

Johnny raises the flowers slightly. “I did bring gifts.”

Price just lifts an eyebrow, as if daring you to make him wait longer. Simon stays silent…but that stare? It speaks volumes.

You shake your head, grabbing your keys and moving towards the lockers. “Oh, I’m not playing this game.”

Gaz calls after you, laughing, “You started this game!”

You shout back, “I just make coffee!”

The men stood in a loose formation near the counter, all eyes fixed on the door you disappeared behind. From the back, your muffled voice could be heard muttering curses…something about you’re just a girl and men should worship the ground you walk on?

They were silent for a long beat.

Then Gaz broke it. “We could share.”

“Come again?” “Sorry, what now?” “Mate, did you hit your head?”

Gaz shrugged, completely serious. “I mean…we could share. Or at least give her a chance to decide. Dates, time, whatever she needs.”

Johnny looked down at the bouquet, fingers tightening around the stems. “Not like this is the first time we've had... overlap.”

“And I don’t think any of us are exactly eager to back off,” Gaz added.

Simon said nothing, but the way his jaw flexed said plenty. Price met Simon’s eyes. Silent, knowing. A familiar, unspoken agreement passed between them. “We share.”

Gaz grinned. “Glad we’re all being reasonable.”

Johnny shook his head, muttering, “This is gonna get complicated.”

SImon finally spoke. “She’s worth it.”

Silence settled again as they listened to something crash in the back room. Probably a stack of coffee filters.. Were you always this much of a firecracker?

Johnny exhaled. “Gonna have to explain this real carefully.”

“Yeah,” Gaz said, nodding. “But not tonight..”

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cherie-doll · 2 days ago

Note

Think about CoD guys getting knocked out on the battlefield and when they wake up, the medic they have a crush on is carrying them out of the field back to the chopper. Perhaps princess style

Does it make sense? No. Is it safe? Also no. But it is funny

bet you medic searched up and read "how to carry a girl: the most romantic methods" on wikihow and decided to use it on the battlefield

=͟͟͞♡ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men Getting Carried Princess Style

:‹ Last thing Price remembered doing was reporting his status over radio before hearing the panicked voices of Laswell and the others. He knew he was in good hands with his teammates but he didn't expect to see your face when he woke up. He also did not expect you to be carrying him, and he hadn't even realized until he was finally able to tear his eyes away from your face and see your arms and hands around his body. He doesn't know whether to thank or curse Laswell for sending you out to pick him up.

:‹ Simon waking up in a state of confusion. Because no one has been able to carry him with this much ease, especially not in this princess style. Usually he gets the rough treatment of getting thrown over a shoulder and that's it. But you're even careful to make sure he's not being rocked too hard while you're holding him. He's far too dazed to say or do anything much so he just lets it happen. Doesn't say or ask anything as you rush to treat him, knowing you'll be too focused. Won't talk or bring it up. ever. You're both taking this to the grave.

:‹ For Johnny it's heaven, just don't let the others see him getting carried out like this it'll wound his pride. He'll be bragging about it later like: "Oh you got treated by [medic]? Ha, well I got-" and he pauses there because suddenly his face has gone red and he doesn't know if it's worth sacrificing his pride and dignity just to rub it in someone else's face that he got carried by THE hot medic everyone likes so therefore he's winning in life but at what cost??

:‹ Kyle going "funny seeing you here" as if he had casually run into you at the grocery store and not in the middle of the battlefield. This guy is trying to flirt with you and have some casual conversation while you're trying to keep his wounds from gushing blood out. You don't know whether he's already losing his mind from the injuries he got or if he's trying to distract himself from the pain because this isn't like him. But maybe him being on the verge of going out again makes him say weird things. He won't remember this after medication.

:‹ Roach passing out thinking they're gonna forget him and accidentally leave him out here without receiving medical assistance until he wakes up and it's like an angel (you) has come to save him. He's impressed that you're not letting any obstacles stop you from running at a full sprint to the chopper with him in your arms. He's even going to bring it together by wrapping his arms around your neck to make sure he doesn't fall and staying still. Honestly, he liked it a little too much, so watch out or smth idk.

:‹ Alejandro getting a jump scare when he sees you carrying him. This was the last place he expected to see you. He absolutely hates getting any kind of coddling done, especially not in front of others. Even if you try telling him that no one even noticed you carrying him out like a knight protecting their princess because everyone else was busy fighting for their survival but he won't have any of it. Would demand you put him down right then and there in the bare dirt but you simply roll your eyes and ignore him.

:‹ Rodolfo being carried like the princess he is isn't a want it's a NEED. Had he been awake and conscious when you ran out to get him, he would have tried convincing you to leave him for his safety. He'd rather have waited for another teammate to reach him rather than you endanger yourself dodging bullets just to get to him. Even when he was knocked out did he look peaceful. He'd probably just be confused as to why you're carrying him but wouldn't protest or try to get out of your arms until you set him down.

:‹ Phillip knew he could always count on his Shadows to save his hide when shit happened. And he knew the attractive medic back at the base would be more than willing to treat him. He couldn't wait to see that face of yours when he got back, oh the things he'd tell you about his latest operation (the little information he could reveal). But he wasn't expecting to wake up so close to you, or at least not like this, when he's all battered, rugged and bruised. He can already picture his Shadows snickering if they ever saw him like this and he's really hoping they're busy with their tasks instead. It's strange to you how quiet he's gotten all of a sudden until you set him down and AFTER he ensures its only the two of you he starts trying to flirt as you roll your eyes at him.

:‹ Makarov didn't think anyone would come and get him out of the mess he had created. There was so much debris and chaos around him that even he had a difficult time thinking about how to get out of this one. Just as his vision started to blur and fade away, he saw you walking towards him. He hadn't actually expected to need you to do your job as medic and treat his wounds, much less be carried as he was told later on. He isn't annoyed not even in the slightest and if anything is sort of 'touched'? that you carried him from the battlefield all bloody to the helicopter. He might have gotten an idea and request you continue doing this, but no way are you doing that again, you swear you must've pulled a muscle or something.

:‹ Keegan is cursing himself as he lies bleeding and hurt in a building that could collapse at any moment for letting his mind wander for one second and get distracted. Of course his mind just HAD to betray him and think of you just because he noticed how unusually pretty the sky was. So is it a coincidence that he wakes up to find himself in your arms? You feel his intense stare but you don't allow yourself to look down. Even as he feels rumbling around him, pain numbing his senses, and the ear-splitting sounds of war, he doesn't let it distract him enough to tear his eyes away from you and the untainted sky that served as a backdrop.

:‹ König's secret fantasy is being treated like a princess. You look at him and think a guy like him wants to be feared and demands respect. Actually, no. The only person he'd want attention from all the time if you. Not in the "I'm important pay attention to me" type of way but in a soft, intimate way in which only you would care for him. So he wakes up to the delusion of thinking you're using all your strength to carry him and he looks at you like you're his savior when in reality it's two other men helping you by supporting his legs and back.

:‹ Horangi would barely be conscious and assume its one of his teammates that is carrying him. He dislikes getting picked up by anyone other than König (despite the fact König hates going so) so he starts moving until he hears your sharp voice which jerks him awake. He thinks he must be dreaming but he couldn't mistake your voice or face for anyone else. Lowkey is into it, curls up in your arms thinking he's small enough to fit even though he's not and you're struggling. He even attempts to lay his head on your shoulder until you throw him onto a stretcher.

:‹ Nikto grunts as he feels himself getting picked up, but instead of that rough manhandling he usually gets from a fellow teammate he feels efficient hands quickly wrap around him, yet they feel so tender too. The way those hands don't pull or drag his limbs carelessly, he knows it might be delusional getting his hopes up already imagining who it could be. He decides to open his eyes and expects to be disappointed if it isn't the person he expects. But he's quite delighted to see it is you. You don't take the time to look down at him because you're too busy trying to hurry and make it back in one piece with the man in your arms to notice his lazy smile as he closes his eyes, assured you'll take good care of him.

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tinysunshine · 2 days ago

Text

✧˖° 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 (𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒) °˖✧

‎ [ 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

female reader, inclusive language. minors dni.

kinks: age difference, ddlg elements (no daddy kink), dumbification, reader is very ditzy, negan is protective, dom/sub dynamic, fingering, creampie, slightly rough sex, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation

warnings and triggers: dumb! reader, name-calling, mentions of violence and death, negan is extremely manipulative, bullying, reader is a little insecure, dubcon

word count: 7k

plot with porn, slight alternate universe. slightly dead dove.

It’s beautiful, and Negan’s pretty sure this blind obedience and worship you have for him is the best kind of love he’s ever received. He’d do anything to keep you this docile. This trusting. This dumb, about who he is and what he does. You think he’s the nicest guy in the world, and you’re a sweet little thing. Why would he ever want to change that perception?

It’s funny, because when he was growing up, Negan never wanted to play with dolls.

He was a regular kid. A regular boy, who liked toy cars and dinosaurs, dug in the dirt and killed spiders and dared his friends to eat ants. Threw rocks at squirrels and played pirates and cowboys, stayed outside until the streetlights turned off. Average. Grew up to be above average, sure, but the fundamental parts of what make him a man have been inside of him since day one.

He’s mean. He’s pretty damn selfish, and he’d be the first to admit that. He’s rough, he’s aggressive, and sometimes he gets so mad he swears he can feel his dick chub up in his pants - especially when he hears the sound of another grown man begging, crying, or pleading. It’s not a gay thing, of course - more like a fucked up thing, but he knows he’s not alone in it.

He’s around men all day. Sees them hurt each other, mostly at his orders - but it’s all in good fun. At least for him. Men like that shit. They love to hurt, even if they say they don’t, and the little secret that most women don’t understand is that they like to be the one who’s hurt sometimes. Most of them won’t admit it, but Negan will.

It feels good, to get smacked in the face or to spit a tooth out after a gnarly punch to the cheek (but Negan’s got a dentist under this thumb, so he can enjoy that feeling, he’s lucky, he knows). When his vision gets blurry and his nose bleeds, ribs aching after a good fight - phew. Negan loves that shit. Knows every other man does too.

That excitement, the frustration, all of it spreading through his body like a wildfire until he feels his hand curl into a fist to get his retribution. It’s almost as good as an orgasm, because it makes him feel alive. What’s more human than pain?

Negan Smith is a man, through and through. Always has been, always will be.

Which makes it so funny, such a crazy twist of fate, that his favorite toy is now you.

His perfect, little doll.

Crazy how life works out, huh?

────

When Negan found you, you were all alone.

Well, you thought you were alone.

You were staying at a run-down farm house that Negan’s men found because they were looking for a group of people that tried to fuck him over. A group of scared fucking pathetic excuses for men, which disgusted Negan to no end. He wants to terrify people, sure - gets a thrill, and an erection out of it. But seeing people sweat before he’s even opened his mouth is just infuriating.

What if he was a nice guy? They’d never know. Pretty fucked up, Negan thinks, judging someone based on their appearance.

The group started firing at his men before they even got out of their truck, and then they had to be chased, and when Negan’s men lost them he had to get involved. A few days came and went before they were finally found, and just in perfect time too - because those men must’ve seen that you were staying alone at the house and were planning to fuck you over.

Fuck you too. Negan heard them planning it by some trees about a half a mile away from the house, before he beat in their brains with his bat.

Now, Negan knows he’s a monster. But he’d never gang up on a woman with his men. It’s tasteless. Disgusting. Tacky, deplorable. Weak.

Because him? Well, Negan came on to you all on his own.

His first thought when he found you, completely clueless about the fate that awaited you, on the front porch of a farm house that had surely seen better days, was that you were cute.

Too cute to be alive in this world, living on your own. Negan has a lot of wives, yeah, but they all looked like shit when he found them. He just has an eye for that sort of thing - finding beauty in the things nobody else can see.

He saw it in all those women he forced to be his bride - beauty in their features all dirtied up from time on the road that he knew would be pretty again after a shower and some lip gloss. Beauty, in the blood under the nails of his men, the fragility of human life and the almost unbreakable spirit. Beauty, in all the luxuries he used to take for granted before walkers became a thing and changed everything.

Negan knows beauty when he sees it, and when he saw you, he realized he'd laid his eyes on the most beautiful thing still left in this world.

When you saw him, you didn’t panic. When you saw his men, you didn’t even frown. Instead, on that little porch, you arched an eyebrow and looked at him curiously. You were sitting down on the ground, a pair of tiny, denim shorts on and scuffed up boots. Negan noticed that you had a little flower tucked behind your ear, and he wondered if you were insanely brave or just stupid.

Either way, he was intrigued.

“You alone?” He asked a question that would have alarm bells going on in just about anyone else’s head. But not yours. No, you took it a step further than Negan could’ve anticipated. You stood up, walked to him, and gave him a hug.

Negan thought it was a trap. He really did. Was sure that this was going to be the way he finally died, and goddamnit - maybe he deserved it. Clever fucking asshole, whoever designed this honeypot of a beautiful girl all alone, looking like she was waiting to be rescued.

But it wasn’t a trap.

You were actually happy to see him and his men. You pulled away from the hug and let out a sigh of relief, blowing a piece of hair out of your face with a cute expression. You smiled, and Negan realized how much he missed the look of innocence. He didn't realize how long it'd been since he'd last seen it. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you said, taking the flower out from behind your ear. You handed it to him. “It was so scary being all alone.”

────

You’re beautiful, but that’s the least interesting thing about you. Don’t get Negan wrong though - you are beautiful. Fucking perfect, like a little doll, with soft skin and perky tits and a sweet smile whenever you get your way.

Which makes you perfect for Negan, because you’re also about as brainless as a doll, pretty head all empty, and whatever he tells you to do, whatever he thinks, whatever he wants - you agree. That simple, that smooth. Even Negan was impressed when he realized just how ditzy you were.

He’s not trying to be insulting either. People have different strengths, and using your brain is not one of yours. You’re so fucking hot though, that it doesn’t really matter what you say or do. Your passivity, your cuteness, the big eyed look you give him whenever you’re confused about something he says (which is frequently) - Negan could cum in his pants just thinking about it.

You’re special to him.

The minute he brought you home, he hated the guts of every single one of his wives. Although, maybe hate is too strong of a word. Because Negan doesn't even hate them, truthfully, because he doesn't even think of them. Once he had you in his presence, you took up so much of his time that he was shocked (and pleased) that someone didn’t try to overthrow his position as leader in his absence.

He knew from the minute he had you in his truck, leaving that farm house, that you’d end up meaning a lot to him. The day he found you, he had his men walk around the little house you were staying in, looking for any valuables. There were some, and even though Negan found you charming, he still didn’t know you. Didn’t know if that happy to not be alone thing was an act or not.

He drilled you, asked you questions and tried to scare you a little bit, but it was impossible to frighten you - which frightened him. He’ll admit, you spooked him with your naivety back then. It was creepy as shit.

You just kept giggling, kept standing too close to him, and when Negan finally made his men look through the house, you took a seat on the old couch in the living room. “So nice of them to help me with my stuff. I’ve been alone here since my brother never came back after he went looking for something for us to eat. I’m really lonely. Really hungry too.” It was obvious to Negan at that moment, just how clueless you really were - but it was also really fucking cute.

He’d spent so much time fighting, arguing, forcing - and finally having someone give in without resistance was nice. That day, he found himself sitting back on the couch in front of you, and then you made the move to get up and sit next to him. Clueless. Dangerous, your innocence.

But deep down, in a thought Negan didn’t even want to admit to himself -

It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t scared of him. Someone he didn’t have to force.

“We only just met, kid. Personal space,” he remembers saying, but you just laughed. Sweet and hungry, you said. Negan couldn’t wait to bring you home and feed you. He was already wondering where you would fit in, hating himself for being worried about how the other women would treat you if he threw you in with his wives. Maybe you could teach them a thing or two, about being nice. But then again.

His wives are bitches. Although Negan can’t say he doesn’t understand why.

“You play baseball?” You asked, looking towards his bat that was resting beside his foot while he held onto it. He was in a state of disbelief. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so, so -

“No, honey, I don’t. You pullin’ my leg or something? Or are you really just that,” stupid, he wanted to say. But he didn’t. Because your bottom lip jutted out like you were about to cry, then your eyes filled with tears, and Negan loves to hurt people to see how far he can take it until they try to hurt him back - but with you, he knew you wouldn’t fight back.

Took a lot of the fun out of it, so he quickly changed the subject. It’s only fun to make a beautiful woman cry when it serves a purpose, and Negan didn’t see any purpose in hurting someone as…you know what? He’s got nothing nice to say, he won’t say anything at all.

“How’s this,” he said instead, placing a hand on your knee. Your skin was warm under his palm, soft where his rough fingers touched you. “You come back with us, and you can eat whatever you want. As much as you want. You in?”

Truth be told, Negan planned on bringing you back with him, regardless of if you wanted to come, at this point. Because when he touched your knee, you put your hand on top of his, and that was all it fucking took to disarm him.

Little bunny, not scared of the big bad wolf. Now that’s a fairy tale Negan’s never heard of -

He’s always liked to write his own rules, anyway.

────

Negan calls you his bunny, and you like it, but you think you like being called doll better.

He tells you all the time that you look like a doll. No matter what time of day, no matter what you look like, he’ll never stop giving you that compliment. It always makes your face heat up, and sometimes it even turns you on.

What can you say? You’re a woman, and being by Negan’s side makes you feel more feminine than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

He treats you like you’re breakable. Gives your forehead kisses, brings you food, takes care of all your needs. The truth is, you’ve always been treated like you’re breakable, but nobody ever acted like they enjoyed having to take care of you. Negan says he’s happy that you need him so much, and you like that.

You like being the kind of woman who gets protected. The kind of woman who gets doted on and adored. Ever since you met Negan, your nails have been clean and your knees have been without a bandage, your tummy has been full - you didn’t think you’d ever feel clean and pretty again, until he swept you off your feet like you always dreamed would happen to you.

Negan has a lot of pet names for you. Bunny, doll - those are just a few. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your real name, because he never says it. Baby, sweetheart, cutie. Darling. Everytime he opens his mouth to say something in regards to you, something sweet is coming out of it.

You’ve only been with him a few months, but you love him so much you can’t stand it. You want to be around him all the time, but it’s just not possible, he says.

You don’t know what Negan does when he leaves his, yours, the room you both share, because you spend most of your time in there. Sometimes you go out, with him, or with one of his men that you met that day at the farmhouse, but if Negan’s not taking you out, you don’t really want to go anywhere.

You’re happy to stay in the room. There’s books, although you don’t really read…but there’s plenty of things to do to keep yourself busy. Most of the time, you just sleep. Sometimes it’s a little boring, waiting for Negan, but you’re eternally grateful for being able to nap again. Life on the road was scary, stressful.

“You’re not built for life out there, baby,” Negan told you once, which translated to life without me, but it’s not like you disagreed. You were sitting on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder, asking him to tell you about his day. You love the stories he tells you, because they make you feel even more grateful to be somewhere safe.

Negan is so good to you.

You know that Negan is in charge of the place you’re at, and that makes you feel funny, and lucky, to be the woman he chose. You know it’s practically the apocalypse and all, but you’re sure he had a lot of women he could’ve chosen to date. He’s handsome, so handsome, and he’s the nicest, most generous man you’ve ever met.

He gives people jobs, and medical care. He has a system to kill off all the walkers that come too close to the building, and it’s so smart that you know he must’ve come up with it himself. He has so many supporters and people that respect him - which tells you all you need to know, about him being an amazing leader. When he walks in a room, everyone gets quiet, and that makes you feel giddy, knowing the amount of power he holds.

Although, it shouldn’t exactly surprise you. Negan was able to get power over you pretty quickly, but that’s only because you let him. It’s just -

You don’t know how else to be. You’ve always been this way - ditzy, head full of air, dumb. You’ve heard it your entire life, which is maybe why it feels so good to hear Negan call you nice things. To love that you might not be the, what was it your father always said to you? Not the brightest candle on the birthday cake? Not the sharpest tool in the shed?

You know you sound dumb - but you like sounding dumb. You like that Negan is around to think for you, to tell you what to do and when to do it. He tells you what you should be thinking, and you listen.

Negan knows best. You could hardly survive on your own for a week, and look at what he built.

Sometimes though, no matter how strong a leader Negan is, things get hard.

Bad things happen, little bunny, he tells you, patting his lap for you to take a seat. You do, and you look up at him with wide eyes, ready for whatever he plans on telling you. You know it has to be serious, because he didn’t ask you to take your clothes off yet. That’s usually the first thing out of his mouth, whenever he’s back in the room for the night.

Negan tells you that sometimes, people break his rules, and when that happens, they have to be punished. He asks if you heard anything while he was out, any screams or any loud voices - but you shake your head. You arch a brow, curious. “Why?” You ask, and he stares at you for a moment, tongue licking over his bottom lip. Then he grins, and you smile back cluelessly.

“That’s it, huh?” He says, but you know not to reply. You don’t need to. Talking out loud, Negan explained to you.

Sometimes he’s just in shock, is all, about how clueless you really are.

He maneuvers you easily, his little doll, into straddling his lap. Bucks his hips up, so you can feel what you’re doing to him just by existing. He killed three men today, burned the face off of another, and you’re looking at him like he hung all the stars in the sky.

It’s beautiful, and Negan’s pretty sure this blind obedience and worship you have for him is the best kind of love he’s ever received. He’d do anything to keep you this docile. This trusting.

This dumb, about who he is and what he does. You think he’s the nicest guy in the world, and you’re a sweet little thing. Why would he ever want to change that perception?

He reaches his hand between your bodies, to lift up the bottom of the big shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to feel how wet you are. No panties, because he told you that they don’t exist anymore. Just - they were all taken. He didn’t know if you’d seriously believe that, but you do, and it’s just too good to be true.

“Don’t mean to worry you about all that grown up, scary stuff, honey,” he fakes an apology, loves that your little cunt is ready for him, wet, shaved all proper, sucking his finger in when he starts prodding at your opening. You whine, biting on the inside of your cheek because his fingers are so long and you love the attention after you’ve spent all day alone.

You're not even offended at his little insult. Grown up stuff, as if you're not a full adult yourself. You're too busy focusing on the feeling of his ownership, the fact that you quite literally exist for him, like any good toy does.

Although, be real. Being finger fucked or not, it's unlikely you would've understood that comment was an insult anyway.

It’s your special time together, moments like these, and if it’s even possible - you become more brainless. Let him play with your pussy, let him push you down on the couch, slip his dick inside of you, make you so full that sometimes the feeling scares you a little, but you like it nonetheless.

Your favorite part about the sex is how it feels to be in Negan’s arms after. Warm, body loose, his cum dripping out of you as he tucks you into bed. Back at that farmhouse, all alone, you cried yourself to sleep every night. There were so many scary noises, so much land that you could only imagine the horror that was lurking outside. When your family was alive, you were still scared -

They’d just tell you to shut up. But not Negan.

There’s no fear with Negan, you think, closing your eyes as his arms wrap around you.

You’re the safest you could possibly be. You think about this while your drift off to sleep, but Negan thinks the opposite -

He’s the face of nightmares to more people than he can name, but you cling to him like he’s your savior.

────

“You got any brains in that head? Or is it just filled with ribbons and whatever that frilly shit you’ve got on is called?” Dave, one of the men you hate most in this world, snaps the strap of your tank top against your shoulder so hard that it makes you want to cry. Your eyes fill up with tears, and in typical you fashion, you stomp your foot and use what little strength you have to push him away from you. Your bottom lip trembles.

“Leave me alone,” you whine (beg), arms crossed over yourself protectively when Dave finally steps back.

He’s not alone - a few moments ago, you screamed and the men patrolling the compound heard and came running. But they did nothing to help, and instead, have made you feel bad about screaming at all. As if you could control your reaction to a fucking spider crawling across the toe of your shoe. Brand new shoes, you must add, because don’t these men understand how hard it is to get new shit nowadays?

Don’t they understand how scary and dangerous spiders are?

The honest truth is that it doesn’t cross your mind that these are the same men that risked their life to get you the shoes you’re wearing, but. They don’t have to be so mean.

“No. You’re such a dumbass. Screaming like that’s fuckin’ dangerous,” another man says, and you don’t even know his name but being reprimanded like this makes you cry. Being called a dumbass makes you want to sob. You admit that, yeah, maybe you’re a little airheaded sometimes. Maybe you’re a little clueless, when adjusting to life in this new, yucky world, but fuck - would it kill people to be nice?

Name calling is never the answer.

“I’m not dumb,” you say softly, with no confidence in your voice. You should have known better than to leave the room without asking anyone to escort you.

There’s no rule that says you can’t leave the room, but you’ve been at the sanctuary for months now, and you rarely leave the room you share with Negan unless he’s with you. Out of all the men that work for him - the only ones that treat you decently are the ones that were with him that day they found you at the farmhouse.

The times you do leave the room, everyone treats you so weird. They’re all cruel, whispering about how stupid you are when you walk past, holding Negan’s hand. Or they just stare at you, which makes you feel insecure. It’s even worse when they ask you questions, because no matter how hard you think about the answer, they’re unhappy with it.

You think to a few weeks ago, when you walked past a room with a bunch of women just sitting around. Negan said you weren’t allowed to go in there, but when his back was turned later that day, you walked over there to talk to some of them.

“Negan know you’re here?” One of them asked, looking nervously behind your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, confused.

“Huh? Uh, no, but it’s okay. I just never see any other women here, I,” but she cut you off, and you heard hushed whispers in the corner of the room where a small group of women sat together.

“You should go,” she said, dismissing you, and that was the last time you left the room. In the room, you’re safe.

You’ve got things to do, and a big collection of stuff that makes you happy that Negan got for you. Clothes, magazines, even if they are old. Purses and things to color with, to paint with. You keep pretty busy most days. Plus, his side of the bed smells like him, and you love to nap next to it when he’s not around.

You only left the room today because Negan didn’t come back last night, and you’re worried about him and very upset and lonely.

You walked around the sanctuary, wondering where he could possibly be, when a spider crawled across your shoe and, well. Here you are.

“A spider isn’t a fuckin’ emergency. Jesus fuck, I swear, Negan’s a sick son of a bitch for even fucking you. ‘S like you got a problem or something,” Dave says, and you wish you could just walk away and run back to the room, where you’d be safe, surrounded by all the things that make you happy - but they’re all blocking your path.

“Yeah, man,” the other one says. You wish you weren’t so bad with names. “Scared of a spider but not scared of the fuckin’ walkers outside,” he scoffs, and somehow you find it in you to defend yourself. You wish you could say more, but you just can’t. It’s so frustrating, not being able to come up with anything to say on the spot.

“Walkers used to be human. Spiders are icky bugs. I’m scared of bugs, not humans. I didn’t mean to scream,” but nobody is listening to you.

“It’s not right, Negan fuckin’ you. Weird as shit. You got something wrong with you? Dropped on your head as a baby? Can’t feel right fuckin’ a dumbass doll, you’re real cute though,” and he just goes on and on while the other men laugh, and you can’t help it, tears are pouring.

“I just want to find Negan. Where is he?” You try to wipe your eyes, hating yourself for being such a big baby. Hating yourself, for not paying better attention to the layout of your new home when Negan gave you a tour, because you were so focused on the feeling of holding his hand, that you paid no attention to almost everything else. You hate how dependent on him you are, and you wonder if he hates it too.

Maybe he’s been gone because he’s sick of you. Maybe he’s going to bring you back to the farmhouse, because he doesn’t like you anymore. Maybe everyone else told him why they don’t like you, and now he believes them, and he’s such a good leader that -

Footsteps, and then you hear the slow, deliberate chuckle you’ve come to know so well. You’d recognize Negan anywhere, even with your eyes closed. He rounds the corner, behind Dave and the other men, and they scramble like they’re stepping on hot coals with bare feet, making room for him.

“Ohhh, no no no,” he says, voice like honey, and you wonder why. You wonder why he’s happy, until it clicks in your brain that this might be the sarcasm your brother used to always talk about. “See, I might let a lotta things go. But talking to her like that? That’s just beggin’ for a lesson in respect.”

Negan doesn’t yell. Just tilts his head, eyes narrowing in on the men who were just being big old meanies to you. Your crying stops, but you’re so upset that you don’t even run to Negan like you normally would. You look down, towards your shoe, where Negan uses the tip of his bat to kill the spider that wandered off.

“Go to our room, bunny. You know how to get back there, don’t you, sweet girl?”

You don’t, not really, and you must freeze for long enough that Negan takes his eyes off the men and shakes his head. Then his eyes focus on you, and he nods in the direction to go.

“That way, baby,” he says with a sigh, and then you scamper off.

────

Negan’s pissed -

It’s been a long time since he’s felt this emotion, but the truth is that he’s pissed at himself.

He should have known better than to leave you alone overnight. He didn’t intend to be gone so long, but shit happened that he had to handle, and you’d been so easy to manage since you arrived. So good. So happy and at peace with what he gives you, eager for isolation in a way that even surprised him.

He didn’t think you’d even notice if he was gone, but that was his mistake - because the minute he found you back in the room, crying your eyes out again, he set his bat by the door and hoped to god that you were dumb enough to not notice the literal pieces of brain stuck to it. Dave, and the others who were dumb enough to fuck with you?

They were handled, and Negan finds it kind of funny that they had the nerve to insult your intelligence. As if speaking to you like that wasn’t about the stupidest, most suicidal thing a man at the sanctuary could do.

“I’m so sorry, Negan. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” you sob, even as he sits down beside you and pulls your tiny frame into his lap. You latch onto him, sniffling and shaking your head, obviously disappointed at the way you acted.

You’re such a good girl, that even when you don’t break the rules, you’re still worried about getting into trouble. Desperate for his approval, eager to please, eyes that look like that when they’re filled with tears.

Jesus fucking -

Negan’s painfully hard, and he’s ready to take his cock out and tell you to lick it, bunny, yeah, like a lollipop, but he’s got to make you feel better first. His sweet girl, his best girl, worried that he might be mad at her.

“You’re not in trouble, baby, you know that? Did nothing wrong. Dave and the others will be taken care of, don’t you worry,” he rubs your back with one big hand, doesn’t even try to mask the fake concern and damn near baby talk just to make you feel better. Anyone else would be able to see right through it, but not you.

Fuck, even that thought makes him harder.

“I don’t know why they don’t like me, but,” you stutter out. “It’s not a big deal. Guess I’m just being a baby, I just missed you, and I got lost, and then there was the spider and,” Negan has to stop you there.

“Not a big deal?” he echoes you, voice low and no longer sugar sweet. “Baby, someone made you cry. That is a big deal. That’s a fucking world-ending deal.”

Negan’s never felt this way about a woman. Protective. Sure, he’s felt possessive about his wives, will burn the face off of any fucking bastard who tries to touch them even if he’s ignoring them, but he could care less what actually happens to them.

But you? Knowing that you were lonely. Lost, all dumb and cute wandering around the sanctuary. It was risky, he’ll admit, to have you think it’s alright for you to just walk around freely. What if you saw something that changed the way you thought about him? What if you hurt yourself, what is someone tried to touch you? He makes a mental note to think of some excuse to have you stay in the room from now on, unless he’s with you. Something to scare you.

Just thinking about those fucking pieces of shit upsetting you - he might have to dig their decaying corpses out of the guts of the walkers he fed them to, just to kill them again.

You’re nervous. He can tell, by how tense you are on his lap. Wordlessly, he grabs your hips and forces you to sit, enjoys the feeling of his bulge bumping up against the thin fabric that hides your cunt. No more underwear - fucking genius of him.

“Look, honey,” he starts, sighing again as if it’s hard for him to say this. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know that -”

“You killed a spider, though. That’s kind of like a fly.”

Are you fucking serious? Negan ignores that. At least you’re not crying anymore.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but anyone messing with you needs to have some consequences,” you’re pouting, and you look like you’re about to cry again, so he changes the subject. That’s always easy to do with you, and he feels a rush of affection for his sweet, dumb girl.

Gently, he pushes you off his lap so he can stand, then he grabs your hand to lead you to the bed. He takes your clothes off first, sitting on the edge of the bed while you’re standing between his legs, and he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

So soft. So perfect, your cute little skirt falling to the floor. He helps you step out of it because he knows how clumsy you are, and when your breasts are bare he grabs both of them in his hands, rubs his thumbs over your nipples, lets the sexy sounds you make go straight to his dick.

“Where were you, Negan?” You ask, and that surprises him. Takes him aback, because you never ask him questions like that. If you were any other woman, he might think that you were trying to catch him in a lie or something - but because you’re you, he just leans in and kisses you, fists a hand in the back of your hair while he does it, a little roughly.

You told him once, that he was too rough, and he told you that all men are like that if they really like a woman. That’s all he had to say. You believed him. Even asked him after that, on a night he was all gentle, if he still liked you.

His dick gets harder, if possible, thinking about it.

“You don’t need to worry your little head about that, alright? I’ll be honest with you, baby - I’ll probably need to go out again tonight,” he ignores your frown by standing, pushing you down on the bed. You’re on your stomach, and then he pats you on the ass, and you’re so good that you remember what that means. What you’re supposed to do. You get on all fours, and you don’t even whine like usual when he pushes down on your back to get you to arch.

You don’t question him further, but maybe that’s because he takes his belt off, unzips his pants, takes his dick out and gets behind you on the bed. He runs the head of his cock, leaking, between your folds, grins at the way you’re trying to suck him in. Greedy little thing, how badly you want his cock.

He presses in a little, just to tease you, and you make small noises and move your hips a little. “What a good girl,” he talks out loud, but he knows that his girl likes a lot of praise. “Doesn’t matter how long I keep you on a shelf, dolly, does it? You’d be here, waiting for me. Ready for me, however I want you. Fuck,” he groans, when he bottoms out inside of you.

Your pussy is better than all of his wives combined, but maybe that’s just because you’re his. His to break in, his to mold to his own liking. His to fuck, his to keep, his girl, his toy, his doll. Those other women - they weren’t even his to start with, which was a little fun, part of the appeal - but it’s nothing like this. Nothing is as good as this.

Negan fucks you, and you take it. Honestly, it used to freak him out a little, how submissive you are. Just laying there, however he asks you to, keeping quiet if not for the little noises you make. You cum fast, whenever he touches your clit or finds that spot inside of you, and he knows it’s because you never touch yourself.

He asked you once, if you play with yourself when he’s gone, but you looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t know how to,” you said, all embarrassed, but Negan wants to keep you that way. Like a pot that boils only for him, his little magic lamp. A few thrusts here, his fingers or a lick there and - boom. Squeezing his cock so tight it feels like it’s about to break off. Perfect.

He cums deep inside of you, hopes that one day he’ll be able to knock you up, but he’s still a little nervous about how you’d be as a mother. Maybe he could get one of his wives to help out if that happened, or maybe -

He pulls his dick out of you, sweaty and spent, trying to screw his head back on straight. Maybe he should not even be thinking about starting a family right now. He’s got enough on his plate as is, especially when you turn around and look at him with hearts in your eyes, making grabby hands at him that just look too innocent when you’ve got his spunk leaking out of your pussy.

Negan lays down with you, and you lay your head on his chest, drawing hearts and little shapes with your finger on his skin while he catches his breath.

“Bunny,” he warns after a few minutes, and you look towards him, position yourself on your stomach with your hands flat on his chest, your head balanced on top of them. You’re looking at him like he’s the sun, and shit if it's not waning on his evil streak just a little bit. You’re fucking precious.

“I don’t want to leave you, but I have some business to take care of,” and then your happy look fades.

Even so, you try to snuggle closer, until he literally just pulls you closer.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. What if someone hurts you, and you never come back?” Your voice is quiet, sad, and Negan almost blows his entire cover right there, almost wants to tell you that there’s no bigger monster than him just to tame your anxiety.

Instead, he changes the story. Tells you that there’s some insane guy out there, with a group of people who are taking supplies away from the sanctuary. They want to hurt people, they want to hurt him, but he’s arranging a peaceful talk and hopefully, they’ll agree. He’ll have plenty of backup, of course, and you know how good I am at staying calm, honey, and then you’re at ease, kissing him all sloppy because you miss him already, and really, it’s a perfect send off.

“Good girl,” he tells you later, when you make it easy for him to leave. You don’t give him any shit. After fucking you, he spent a few hours just playing with you. Making you try on some of the new clothes he found you, he did a new puzzle with you (you’re surprisingly good at puzzles, and he’s impressed), and then he counted how many fingers you could take in your sweet little cunt before cumming (four).

You had good quality time together, which is why his praise means so much. But who are you kidding: Negan’s praise is the most important thing in the world to you.

When he says goodbye, he makes you promise (pinky promise) to stay in the room. That someone will bring you food, but he’ll be back in the morning. You promise, stand up on your tip toes when he teases you by holding his hand higher than you can reach, but you end up grabbing his closed fist and you press a kiss to his outstretched pinky. Then you kiss him, and he asks you to keep his bed warm. Stay pretty for him, he says, shutting the door. Keep bein’ sweet.

When the door locks behind him, Negan thinks about you the entire way to the car, even with his men following him. He should feel bad about the way he treats you, but he doesn’t.

He tells you stories, half-truths painted in bright colors. You think he keeps people safe, that he’s a good person who does things for the greater good, and you’re always amazed that he’s willing to protect people like you, who can’t do anything without someone else calling the shots.

It’s not so wrong though, he thinks, wanting to keep you in the dark. Someone like you deserves an opportunity to stay soft. If anything, he’s doing you a favor, keeping you sheltered like this.

You stay soft, you stay blind to the cold, hard truth about the fucked up world around you. About the man you share your bed with.

He’ll kill and hurt and do whatever he has to do to survive, and because he finds a thrill in it - and you'll stay locked up like a pretty doll on a shelf, spending your days applying lotion and trying on pretty dresses, doing your puzzles and looking through your magazines. Dumb and oblivious and waiting on him to give you a purpose. Perfect.

Negan’s not a romantic, but he thinks that there’s something safe about not knowing the truth. Something kind of beautiful about believing in the myth of a good man.

That night, before Negan steps out of his trailer, before he lines up every member of the fucking group he’s been itching to put in their place for much too long now, he looks in his pocket for the picture of you that he snapped on a polaroid camera. Pretty, sweet, sitting on his couch in a pink tank top and a little white skirt.

You’re beautiful, and you think he’s good.

If he looks hard enough at you, he wonders if he’ll start to convince himself of it too.

Negan Smith is a bad man, he knows - but he thinks you might be sweet enough for the both of you.

#negan smith ㅤ♡#negan x reader #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith smut #twd x reader #twd smut #twd imagine #twd x you #twd x y/n #negan smith

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selunefae · 12 hours ago

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a/n: first time doing headcanons. :p wanted to try it bc they're quicker to write. i was at the gym and got inspired. xD

masterlist | rules

Gymbro!Caleb who notices you the first day you step a foot into the gym. It’s not every day a cutie like you walks in, all nervous and tugging at your sleeves as you squint at the machines like they're some kind of torture devices.

Gymbro!Caleb who's always there at the distance. All big arms and even bigger chest, tank top clinging into his skin and leaving little to the imagination. You can't help but glance his way every time his muscles flex as he finishes a series. He's always wearing that gentle smile that makes it hard to focus on your reps.

Gymbro!Caleb who finally makes his move when he catches you struggling at the hack squat machine – legs shaking, form all wrong, far too much weight. He starers at you for a moment, then walks straight over with no hesitation and that damn smile. "Here, let me help you."

Gymbro!Caleb who absolutely didn't need to get that close to help you. His chest brushes your sides, one arm around your waist as he adjusts your back. From this distance, you can catch traces of his smell. The faint smell of sweat, faded deodorant, and something distinctly masculine. You're too dazed to protest.

Gymbro!Caleb who somehow always ends up at the gym during your sessions. Monday before work? He's there. A late friday evening? Still there. And every time, he finds a new excuse to keep lingering. "Want to take turns in press?" or "Let me lift this for you."

Gymbro!Caleb whose hands trail lower with every interaction. One day it's his hands brushing your stomach, another day his fingers ghost your thighs. And you don’t stop him. In fact, you start to look forward to those moments.

Gymbro!Caleb who visibly stiffens the moment another guy talks to you. His smile drops, his jaw tightens, and his brows knit together like he’s about to lift the entire gym floor. The guys always end up storming off when he appears behind you, but an instant later, he acts like nothin happened.

Gymbro!Caleb who starts bringing you snacks and protein-packed meals to eat after workout. At first, it's "I made to much and don't want it to go to waste", but two weeks pass by and he’s still doing it.

Gymbro!Caleb who smirks every time you mess up a set and get really flustered, just to brush it off with “Don’t worry, i’ll help you with whatever you need.” And he means it. But he wishes you needed him for more than just your reps.

Gymbro!Caleb who offers to walk you home one night after a late session and waits outside your building until he sees the lights in your room turn on. He doesn't care if he lives on the opposite side of town.

Gymbro!Caleb who’s never flat-out told you how he feels, but shows it in the little things he does. He wipes down every machine before you sit on it, never leaves until you're done, and makes sure you're eating enough.

Gymbro!Caleb who’s clearly into you, but you still think he’s just being nice.

Gymbro!Caleb who finally snaps when a cocky newbie tries to flirt with you near the dumbbell racks. He steps in mid-sentence, voice low and one hand resting on your shoulder. “She already has a trainer.” And suddenly, he’s twice his size and the guy’s gone.

Gymbro!Caleb who leans in right after, close enough that his breath warms your cheek: “Guess I’ll have to make you mine before someone else tries to snatch you.”

Gymbro!Caleb who drags you into the empty yoga studio that night, presses you against the wall, and kisses you like he’s been holding back for months. One of his hands traps you as the other hugs your waist, his kisses are hungry and messy. You let him, because you've been waiting to.

Gymbro!Caleb who might be territorial and a little too possessive, but completely melts the second you tug his hair and push him down.

Gymbro!Caleb who lets you take the lead, savouring how you rub agaisnt him as you continue desperately tugging at his hair and clothes. He could easily overpower you, but he likes seeing you in control. He likes that you think he's wrapped around your fingers, and maybe he is.

Gymbro!Caleb who still cooks for you after that night, who still checks your form and counts your sets and glares down every guy who glances your way. Especially now. Because now, he’s finally claimed you, and he’s not letting anyone else have you.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb xia #xia yizhou #xia yizhou x reader #caleb love and deepspace #caleb smut #love and deepspace caleb #smut #reader insert #female reader #love and deepspace smut

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sluttywonwoo · 2 days ago

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bad influence(s): jeonghan | the bartender

pairing: bartender!fwb!jeonghan x f reader

summary: he's the only reason you ever come to this place

warnings: swearing, alcohol, toxic-ish relationship dynamic, sprinkle of jealousy, lil bit of angst oops?, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: semi-public sex, drunk sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, spitting in mouth, choking, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3k

“Bunny, wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

You make a face. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” Jeonghan murmurs. “You seemed to like it when I was making you cu-”

If the club wasn’t so crowded you’d grab him by the collar and slam his head on the bar. But since that isn’t an option you settle for threatening to leave.

“Wait, you just got here! You haven’t even let me make you a drink yet.”

“Who says I’m here for a drink?”

He smirks. “Oh, I know what you’re here for.”

“Not here for that either.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Why, then? Don’t tell me it’s to break things off because the last time you tried to do that you ended up in my bed with your ankles on my shoulders. Besides, if you really wanted to end it you could’ve just texted me.”

“What is there to end?” you mutter.

“You wound me.”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He rests his elbows on the countertop and leans across it, lowering his voice. “You know I do, but I’m closing tonight and last call isn’t for another forty minutes.”

You groan. “What am I doing here then?”

“If you had given me a heads-up I would’ve told you to come by later! Or tried to give my shift to someone else.”

You sigh and turn your back to him, surveying the rest of the crowd gathered on the dance floor.

“Forty minutes isn’t even that long,” he whispers, “and you came all this way. I’ll take care of you as soon as I’m done. Can’t you be patient?”

“I’m not leaving,” you assure him. “I’m looking for a distraction.”

“A distraction?” You assume, based on the sound of dread that he makes, that he follows your gaze to the bachelor party doing shots at the other end of the bar. “What, you’re going to make me watch you grind on some other guy?”

“No one says you have to watch.”

“I’ll have a bouncer kick him out.”

“I haven’t even picked one yet.”

“I’ll get them all kicked out. Ruin their fucking night, I don’t care.”

You spin around to face him again. “It’s not like I’m going to fuck any of them!”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightens.

“Unless you take too long….”

“Would it kill you to stay put for half an hour?”

“And be forced to listen to you flirt with the other customers?”

The smirk returns. Confidence, or arrogance rather, weaves its way back through his posture now that he knows the real reason you’re looking elsewhere. “It’s only for tips. You’re the only one who gets a tip back.”

“Pure poetry,” you deadpan.

“Just, let me make you a drink,” he pleads, still apprehensively eyeing the same group of men. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Fine,” you huff.

“Great, what do you want?”

“Mmmm, I’ll do a lemon drop.”

“Do you want it as a shot or a cocktail?”

You take a moment to consider it. “Can I have the shot version in a cocktail glass? But for the price of the shot version.”

“Like I charge you for any of these anyway,” he scoffs. “Giant lemon drop shot coming up.”

You take a seat on one of the bar stools, finally settling in as he starts to prepare your drink. The bar is naturally sectioned off by support beams that run from the ceiling to the floor which gives each bartender their own section to tend to during a regular shift. But you know that since Jeonghan’s the one closing, his coworkers will be clocking out soon, leaving him in charge of the whole bar by himself.

Luckily, the night has started to wind down by the time his colleagues leave. There are still plenty of people to serve but it isn’t anywhere near as crazy as it is at peak rush.

He closes everyone’s tabs before circling back to you, bidding his coworkers good night as they clock out.

“I’m glad you liked your drink,” he hums, collecting the empty glass from in front of you to wash and add back to the rack that hangs above the bar.

He goes through the motions of his closing routine while the rest of the employees in the other sections of the club do the same. He purposely drags it out, taking his time so that you’re the last two left in the place.

“Yoon, you good, man?” one of the bouncers calls as he makes for the door.

“Yeah, I’m almost done. I’ll lock up, don’t worry.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See ya,” Jeonghan echos back, giving his friend a mock salute as he leaves.

You’re a little surprised no one said anything about you staying behind but you assume they’ve seen you here so many times they know you’re waiting for Jeonghan, who they’re all a little too intimidated by to question.

“Finally alone,” he sighs, leaning closer to you. “Come here, bunny.”

You let the nickname slide now that no one’s around to hear it. “Where, behind the bar?”

“Mm, better yet, why don’t you hop up on the bar. Just crawl over to me.”

You check your surroundings even though the place is empty and hoist yourself up onto the counter. It isn’t wide enough to necessarily crawl over so you just swing your legs over the other side, parting your knees so that Jeonghan can slot himself between them.

He does exactly that, placing his hands on either of your thighs.

“Thank you for being patient,” he murmurs, tilting his head upwards for a kiss.

“I knew you’d make it worth my time,” you hum back, pressing your lips briefly to his.

Apparently too brief for Jeonghan because he chases your lips when you pull away, pouting when you don’t give in.

“Ah, is now when I start making it up to you?” he asks softly.

“Mhm.”

He keeps his hands on your thighs, using them to brace himself as he kneels before you.

“What, here?” you hiss, suddenly rethinking the whole thing. “On the bar?”

“It’s clean,” he assures you. “You just saw me wipe it down.”

“It won’t be after this.”

“It’s a nightclub, babe. Sterility isn’t typically people’s number one concern here. Regardless, I’m obviously going to re-sanitize it when I’m done with you.”

“When you’re done with me?” you challenge.

“Yeah. When I’m done with you. Got a problem with that?”

“Who says you’re the one that gets to decide that?”

“I do. Because you usually tap out after two rounds.”

“I-”

“Are you going to let me eat you out or am I going to spend all night on my knees arguing with you?”

You shrug. “Both are hot.”

He sighs. “Lift up your skirt.”

You do as you’re told and wiggle out of your panties too. He reaches out for them and you’re confused but hand them over anyway, only for him to slip them into his pocket. Perv.

You’re used to Jeonghan taking his time with you, teasing you, making you wait for it. But you figure he knows he’s tortured you enough already tonight because he goes right for it.

“Wait-” you say, yanking him by the hair when his mouth is only inches from your pussy to get his attention.

“What, what’s wrong?”

You point at the ceiling. “The security cameras. Won’t they...” you trail off.

“We’re in a blind spot,” he mutters, grimacing at the grip you have on his hair.

“Oh.”

“If you’re worried about it, I can get one of my bouncer friends to erase the tapes from tonight.”

“No, it should be okay, right?”

He nods. “They can’t see anything behind his beam.”

You relax a little, letting him spread your legs again. “Filing that away for when I come back to rob this place.”

Jeonghan gasps. “You would exploit the information I told you in confidence for monetary gain? Has this been your plan the whole time?”

“It’s called a ‘long con’ for a reason, baby.”

“You know what else is long?”

“Alright, enough talking.”

You use the hold you still have on his hair to guide him back in between your legs before he can get to the punchline. He doesn’t resist, obediently following your direction until he’s close enough to lick you. Before he does, though, he rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh and inhales deeply through his nose like he’s trying to breathe you in. You’d likely be mortified in any other circumstance but right now you’re too horny and too tipsy to care.

“God, you’re wet,” he mumbles. “Alcohol really does go straight to your pussy, doesn’t it?”

You whine, embarrassed. You don’t have a snarky remark this time.

“I guess we’re lucky I’m a bartender,” he adds.

Then, without wasting any more time, he finally puts his mouth to you. You knew it was coming but your breath still hitches when you feel his warm tongue against you. He finds your clit almost instantly, which shouldn’t annoy you but somehow does. You’ve slept with him too many times, allowed him to get too familiar with your body. You’re already in deeper than you probably should be.

The irritation ebbs as the pleasure becomes impossible to ignore. Jeonghan leverages every advantage he has against you to get you to the edge.

You try to hold out but he’s too goddamn good. And to make things even worse, he stops to ask, “Want my fingers or my tongue inside?”

You’re more than a little too gone to answer so he chooses for you, opting for two fingers while he continues to lave his tongue over your clit.

“Taste so good, baby,” he moans. “Gonna cum?”

“Y-yes!”

“I don’t think so.” He pulls away at the last minute, leaving you jaw-dropped and panting.

“What the fuck?!”

He shrugs, getting back to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What happened to making it up to me?” you demand.

“That’s for not texting me back.”

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. There’s no way you look even the least bit intimidating with your bare pussy out and your legs dangling off the counter but you’re too pissed to think about optics right now.

“You think you can ignore my messages, decline my calls, and then just show up unannounced whenever you decide you want to get laid? And show up to my job of all places?”

Well, when he puts it that way...

“I mean, you can,” he admits, half-laughing. “But I’m going to be a little mean about it. Don’t make that face at me, I’m still going to make you cum. It’s just going to be on my cock.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He brushes off your question. “Do me a favor, reach over there and grab that bottle of vodka for me.” You make a different, more concerned face at him. “What? I just wanted to do a shot together.”

“Last time you said something like that my whole torso was sticky with tequila for the rest of the night.”

“Can you blame a guy for wanting to do a body shot from between your tits?”

“Yeah, I can.”

He clicks his tongue. “Just hand me the bottle.”

Against your better judgement, you grab the Tito’s and pass it to him, watching in mild surprise as he pours it directly into his mouth. He gestures for you to lean closer so you do, letting him gently wrap a hand around your throat so that he can hold you steady when he spits the vodka into your mouth.

You choke a little as you swallow, making it burn even more on the way down.

Your throat feels raw, your lips swollen, neither of which is helped by Jeonghan kissing you after taking a shot of his own. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, further exacerbating the sting of the vodka.

The heat spreads from your lips outward, engulfing you whole.

“Lay on your back,” Jeonghan whispers into your mouth.

He releases you so that you can, hopping up onto the bar with you a moment later. You’re not sure when he took his pants off but everything’s starting to get pretty hazy at this point.

“Are you still ok with no condom?” Jeonghan asks, unzipping the side of your skirt so that he can pull it off.

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone else since...”

“Me either.”

He encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist as he positions himself on top of you and teases you with the head of his cock.

“Hannie,” you whine and arch your back to try and force him deeper inside you. He pulls back, though, intent on being the one in control.

“What is it, baby?”

“Need more.”

“Need more of what?”

“Of you.”

He gives you another inch or so, grinning at the way you squirm in frustration underneath him. “Like that?”

“You know that isn’t what I meant!”

“No?” He draws back.

“Jeonghan!”

He laughs. “What happened to Hannie? I like Hannie better.”

“I’ll call you Hannie again if you fuck me.”

“Deal,” he agrees, going as far as to offer you his hand to shake on it before finally bottoming out.

“It can never be easy with you,” you mutter under your breath.

“I could say the same for you,” he shoots back.

He lays there on top of you for a few moments, kissing your neck while allowing you to adjust to the size of him. You’re honestly surprised he’s as hard as he is. You know that eating pussy turns him on but you usually help warm him up too. The building anticipation must have been enough for him tonight. The throbbing of his cock inside you confirms that.

“Can I move now?” he asks.

“Yes. Please. Please, Hannie...”

“Fuck.”

He looks so pretty on top of you. His hair is still all mussed from when you were tugging it and now his bangs are falling in his eyes, curling up at the ends from perspiration. His face is screwed up in pleasure, mouth slightly open as he pants and groans about how good you feel around him.

You wish the lighting wasn’t so dim in here so that you could see him better, take him in better. It’s a sight you’ve seen dozens of times but one that never gets old. You wish it would.

It usually takes more than just penetration to get you to the edge but you’re still so sensitive from almost cumming on his tongue that you’re on the edge again before you’ve even really gotten started.

“Je-Hannie, I’m close.”

“Already? Hold it a little longer for me, baby.”

“I can’t!”

You cum with a cry of his name, locking your ankles behind his back to hold him as close to you as you can while the waves of ecstasy roll over you. He tries his best to fuck you through it despite his now-limited range of motion, settling for winding a hand between your bodies so that he can play with your clit to get you to cum even harder.

When you come down and your body finally relaxes again, Jeonghan takes it as a sign to keep going-- albeit gentler this time.

“You okay? It’s not too much, right?”

“Yeah, you can keep going,” you sigh, your arms and legs feel like jelly now but you still try to hold on to him. “Want you to cum too.”

“Aw, my bunny’s so sweet,” he hums.

“Don’t call me thaaat!”

“Shut up, you like it. I felt you tighten around me when I said it.”

“It was a clench of annoyance.”

“Whatever you say...”

“Are you close yet?” you grumble.

“Why? Am I boring you?”

You fake a yawn. His jaw tenses.

“You know what, I’m going to hold off as long as possible just to- fuck.”

You feel his hips stutter as you pulse around his cock on purpose this time, trying to coax him off the edge. He puts up a good fight but is only able to resist for so long.

“Shit, I’m gonna- where do you want me to-”

You lock your ankles again, effectively answering his unfinished question. A familiar sensation of warmth, not unlike that of the alcohol earlier, fills you as his cock twitches and spurts cum inside of you. It’s almost enough to make you cum again but you feel a lot more sober than you did thirty seconds ago and reality is catching up to you fast.

Still, you stroke Jeonghan’s back as he catches his breath like he always does for you. He seems to appreciate it and kisses you on the cheek when he gathers enough strength to push himself off of you and hop down.

“I demand a rematch,” is the first thing he says. “But not here. I think we’ve made enough of a mess on this bar.”

“I can’t believe we did that,” you add as you slip back into your skirt.

He buttons his jeans and then hands you your panties from his pocket. “I’m glad we did.”

“Me too.”

“The only problem is that now whenever I’m working this will be all I’m able to think about the whole shift.”

“That’s a bad thing?” you ask.

“I mean, I’d rather not be hard for hours at a time.”

You laugh. “Well, if you ever need help with that you have my number.”

“But will you actually answer?”

“I- I will, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure.

You can’t tell if he believes you or not. He changes the subject before you’re able to read him.

“Alight, I’ll clean up here and then get you home to clean you up. You’ll stay the night, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t drive after drinking. Thanks.”Jeonghan looks like he wants to say something, maybe ask if that really is the only reason you’re agreeing to stay over, but he doesn’t. It’s the only reason either of you needs.

i swear i picked a lemon drop before the ateez comeback dropped smh- but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

#bad influence(s)#seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #kpop smut

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midtalissa · 23 hours ago

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# ‘TESTING WATERS’ (part 2)

-> Other parts: one

-> Summary: Jason’s mood is shifting, and you’re the reason. After days of soft tension and awkward closeness, he finally makes the first move… in the most clumsy, Jason Todd way possible.

-> Pairing: AK!Jason Todd x F!Reader

-> WARNINGS: maybe ooc Jason? canon-typical mentions of trauma/PTSD; Jason being touch-starved and awkward; light make-out— dude i need to learn how to manage the warnings because i don’t know what to put here

-> A/N: i’m lowkey kinda getting obsessed with jason AND the arkham trilogy.. again; good thing i already have it purchased on my nintendo😼😼

You heard it first from one of the lieutenants outside the rec room. “Boss has been… different.”

You weren’t even eavesdropping on purpose. Just walking past with the world’s most boring sandwich in your hand when the words hit your ear like a thrown brick.

“How different?” someone else asked, like they didn’t believe it for a second.

“Like… he’s not biting people’s heads off every five minutes. Let Ramirez finish a full sentence yesterday. Didn’t even snap when Jace spilled coffee on the intel sheets.”

A third voice chimed in, low and full of disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Swear on my paycheck, man. He’s still scary as shit but… it’s less homicidal lately. I’m telling you. It started after he went to his quarters one night earlier than usual, when he went to her.”

Her. You.

You nearly tripped over your own feet. Great. Just what you needed. Jason Todd, broody warlord of Gotham’s underground, getting talked about like a teen girl’s diary entry.

You made a beeline for your room, heart racing and face burning.

Later that day, on a video call with Tori, she cracked a joke about it. “You’re basically living in a shitty action movie. Just waiting for dramatic background music every time he enters a room.”

You snorted so hard she nearly dropped her phone. “If my life had a soundtrack it’d just be heavy breathing and gunshots.”

You were in the middle of laughing when you caught it. Jason. Walking past your door. And— blink and you’ll miss it— but you didn’t miss it.

A smile. Small. Crooked. There and gone in less than a second. You froze mid-laugh, still staring at the empty hallway long after he disappeared.

“Okay what just happened?” Tori asked, catching your expression shift. “Nothing,” you said quickly. But your grin said otherwise.

The shift didn’t stop there. Over the next few days, it got… softer. Like the air was changing around you.

He let you sit next to him again on the couch. When your shoulder bumped his, he didn’t move away. In fact… he leaned back. Barely. But it was there.

Another night, he passed you in the hall and actually said, ‘Hey.’ Like a normal human being. Not ‘Y/n.’ Not ‘Be quieter.’

Just… ‘Hey.’ And you chatted with him until his earpiece buzzed and he had to leave. You spent the next fifteen minutes staring at your ceiling trying not to scream into a pillow like a teenager.

That night though… that’s when it happened.

You caught him sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots, looking tired but less haunted than usual.

You were hovering in the doorway, heart doing somersaults, debating with yourself for five full minutes before finally— screw it. You went for it.

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. Instant tension.

You felt it instantly. The way his back stiffened like muscle memory was telling him to pull away. But this time… he didn’t. Not fully.

He exhaled hard, like the air left his lungs all at once. Then his hands moved— slow, hesitant— until they settled on your forearms, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

And when you loosened your hold just enough to pull back and check his face… That’s when you caught it. Jason biting his lip.

Like he was chewing on some thought he didn’t know how to say. Eyes dropping to your mouth, then back to your eyes, then back again like he was short-circuiting.

Your heart nearly exploded. “Jason—” you whispered, but before you could even finish, his hands slid down, settling clumsily on your waist.

And then he kissed you.

No warning. No finesse. Just pure, awkward, inexperienced Jason Todd crashing into you like a human wrecking ball.

It was messy. A little too hard at first. Teeth bumped. Breath hitched weird between both of you.

But when your hands instinctively grabbed the front of his shirt and you pushed him back slightly— just enough to adjust the angle— he followed.

Like muscle memory kicked in. Like whatever fragile dam he’d been holding together finally cracked open.

And suddenly you were in his lap, straddling him without even realizing how it happened, one of his hands slipping up your back while the other stayed stubbornly locked on your hip like he was scared you’d disappear.

He kissed like a man who had no idea what the hell he was doing but wanted to do it anyway. You almost laughed into his mouth when it clicked—

This man… had 100% been listening to soldiers at base giving bad dating advice to each other. Trying to apply random tips he overheard.

Be confident. Grip her waist. Make the first move. Tilt your head more. You could practically hear their voices in your brain, like ghosts of locker room nonsense.

But none of it mattered. Not when his lips were on yours. Not when his breath stuttered every time you deepened the kiss.

And definitely not when you pulled back, resting your forehead against his, smiling through your own gasps for air.

“Jason…” you whispered, voice shaking. “I’ve already been swooned, you idiot.” He huffed out a shaky laugh. A real one. And for once… he didn’t look so broken.

#dc #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #jason todd #ak jason todd x reader #ak jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd needs a hug

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ackermanrage · 1 day ago

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ʟɪᴘꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ

levi ackerman x fem!reader warnings: none :) an: finally some levi fluff hehe~ i saw a fic like this a long time ago and decided to recreate it 😊

You stood near Levi’s desk, arms crossed and a teasing smirk on your lips as he finished adjusting the straps on his gear. The early morning light poured in through the window behind him, casting his office in an amber glow—warm enough to soften even the infamous scowl on his face.

“You’re triple-checking your harness like a rookie,” you said lightly.

“I don’t intend on dying because of a loose strap, brat.”

“You don’t intend on dying, period,” you corrected, walking over and gently pulling his cravat tighter around his neck. “Besides, you’ve got someone to come back to now.”

Levi’s eyes flickered up to meet yours. That intensity—the one only you ever got to see soften.

“I don’t need a reminder,” he said lowly.

You didn’t break eye contact. Instead, your fingers trailed from his cravat up to his cheek. His hands instinctively found your waist, steadying you, grounding both of you in that rare and quiet intimacy that existed only behind closed doors.

He glanced at you sideways. “What are you doing?”

“This,” you whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He sighed, as if he were already exhausted by your antics—but you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed at his side.

“Are we really doing this right now?”

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, lips grazing his jaw. “Before you go risking your life, I think you deserve a proper goodbye.”

Another kiss—lower this time, brushing the underside of his jaw.

Then one near his ear.

Then one just above his collarbone.

He shifted slightly, but still didn’t stop you. Maybe he didn’t want to.

“Don’t get carried away,” he muttered.

“You love it.”

“You’re leaving marks.”

You leaned in and said sweetly, “I'm not.”

Another kiss, slow and possessive, right at the side of his throat.

Levi let out a breath through his nose and fastened his cravat lazily over it. “You done?”

You tapped your chin in thought, then kissed his mouth once—quick and warm.

“Now I’m done.”

He adjusted his jacket, grabbed his gloves—but didn’t notice the trail of lipstick evidence decorating his pale skin.

You, of course, stayed completely quiet.

As he stepped toward the door, he glanced at you once more, his tone softer now.

“Try not to miss me too much.”

You gave a slow, coy smile. “Too late.”

---

The morning chill hadn’t yet burned off. The squad stood in a loose circle near the horses, the kind of barely-coordinated gathering that usually only happened when Levi hadn’t arrived yet.

Eren was yawning. Jean was pacing. Mikasa was already fully prepared and silently judging everyone else.

“Where the hell is he?” Jean muttered, shifting his weight. “Captain’s never late.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” Connie said, brows raised. “Or like, sleeping in.”

“Maybe a Titan ate him,” Sasha added helpfully, chewing on a hunk of bread.

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but her eyes were on the HQ building like a hawk.

Then—footsteps.

Levi emerged from HQ, striding toward them with his usual quiet confidence. Scouts jacket. Bladed gear. Blank expression. Standard-issue everything—

Except the very obvious lipstick mark on his left cheek.

And the one half-hidden under his jawline.

And the faint pink blur at the base of his neck, slightly covered by his scarf but still peeking out.

He didn’t notice.

But they did.

Hange blinked once.

Sasha choked on her bite.

Armin visibly froze, as if trying to compute a math equation that broke physics.

Jean stepped back like he’d seen a ghost.

“...What the fuck is that?” Jean muttered. “Does anyone else—? Am I losing it?”

“Wait—waitwaitwait,” Connie gasped, grabbing Armin’s arm. “Look at his face. Look at his face.”

“I am looking at his face,” Armin whispered. “There’s lipstick. There’s definitely lipstick.”

One mark near the edge of his jawline.

Another just under his ear.

A third on the side of his neck.

A faint smear on his collarbone, barely hidden by the cravat.

Hange turned, took one look at Levi, and let out a loud, delighted cackle. “HOLY SHIT.”

“Are those—?” Sasha started.

“Lipstick,” Mikasa confirmed, arms crossed.

Jean took a step back like he’d seen a ghost. “Who the hell kissed Levi Ackerman?”

Eren squinted. “That… that can’t be real. That’s Levi. He doesn’t—he doesn’t do kissing.”

“LOOK AT HIS FACE!” Jean barked, pointing. “Someone full-on made out with him before he got here!”

Moblit looked like he was glitching. “Did we enter a parallel universe?”

Levi stopped walking. His expression was blank, jaw tight, but he could feel all eight of them staring holes through him.

He considered just mounting his horse and leaving without a word.

But no.

Too late now.

“What,” he said flatly, “are you all gawking at?”

“Captain,” Armin started delicately, “you… seem to be wearing… um…”

“Several very vibrant statements of affection,” Hange supplied. “In Rich Rosewood. Excellent shade, by the way.”

Levi glared. “Tch. It’s none of your business.”

“You’re covered in it,” Sasha said, voice an octave too high. “It’s everybody’s business now.”

“You’ve got kisses all over your damn face,” eren said, incredulous.

Levi frowned. “I do not.”

Mikasa reached into her pocket and whipped out a tiny compact mirror. “Check the evidence, sir.”

He looked into it.

Pause.

A longer pause.

His expression didn’t change—but his eyes did.

“…Shit.”

Connie exploded. “WHO KISSED YOU?!”

“No way this was just one kiss,” Sasha breathed. “This was like—a storm.”

Armin looked genuinely distressed. “Captain, are you in a relationship? Like—a real one?”

Hange’s grin stretched ear to ear. “Oh my god, it makes so much sense. You've been disappearing more. Staying late in meetings that mysteriously don’t involve any of us. That mysterious bruise on your neck last month. The weird good mood. This is huge.”

Levi adjusted his cravat again, this time higher, but it was far too late.

He considered lying. Brushing it off.

He sighed.

“I’m seeing someone,” he said, voice sharp as steel.

Sasha screamed.

Connie dropped to his knees. “THE WORLD ISN’T REAL.”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Wait, wait. Who is it? Who could it possibly be?”

“It’s not your concern,” Levi said calmly, starting toward his horse.

“It absolutely is our concern!” Jean cried. “We’re invested now!”

“Are they in the Corps?” Armin asked, trying to keep the tone respectful. “You can just say yes or no. Blink twice.”

“No,” Levi replied. “But yes.”

Moblit whispered, “What does that even mean?”

“Are they hot?” connie asked.

Levi didn’t answer.

“Oh my god,” Hange murmured, looking skyward. “It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

Levi froze mid-step.

And that silence said everything.

Eren howled. “YOU’RE DATING HER?! SHE’S LIKE—THE COOLEST PERSON IN THE ENTIRE BRANCH!”

“She could punch all of us and I’d say thank you,” Sasha added.

Jean shook his head slowly. “I didn’t even think you liked people.”

“I don’t,” Levi muttered. “She’s an exception.”

Mikasa was quiet, but the smallest, faintest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “She makes sense for you.”

Levi mounted his horse without further commentary.

Everyone watched him like he was a newly crowned deity.

“When did this happen?” Armin asked.

“None of your damn business.”

“Do you love her?” Sasha blurted.

Levi paused. “Irrelevant.”

“OH MY GOD YOU LOVE HER,” Jean screamed.

“Like. Deep,” Sasha whispered.

“You guys gonna get married or—?” Connie started.

“Enough,” Levi barked. “Anyone who brings this up on the mission gets left in the forest.”

Hange sang out. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t stop us,” Connie said proudly. “This is the tea of the year.”

“Connie,” Levi deadpanned, “do you want a concussion?” "But you gotta admit captain, you're down bad." Eren said, smirking.

Levi turned around. But from the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the answer was clear.

And he still didn’t wipe off the lipstick.

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