#What is a boy without to do without his instinct put things in their mouth

[liibation]

god made vanilla extract taste bad on purpose so that we would not drink it but that has not stopped me yet regrettably

You get me anon

[keraawrites]

"How can I let someone else have you?"

Summary: You two had been bestfriends forever. But when did the lines blur? You had no idea, but some shots and weed may help you find the answer. ۶ৎ Bakugo x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Content: Underage drinking, drug use (weed), drinking games, belly piercing, use of the name ma & mama, oral (m&f), missionary, doggy style, unprotected sex (Wrap it up guys)

Word count — 4.8k

Babble; Hey guys, so I have rewritten this, changed up the aesthetic and added some extras to it, but the summary is all the same. You can reread if you like💋

Nobody really understood the dynamic between you and Bakugo—well, except Midoriya. But the green-haired boy never dared to disclose too much because, frankly, he valued his life.

People assumed. They whispered. They stared too long whenever you and Bakugo walked through the halls together. And with good reason—y’all were close. Too close. Always up under each other, too touchy for “just friends.” But every time someone asked, the response was always the same:

“Katsuki? No, it’s not like that. He’s my best friend.”

“Hah?! The fuck you ask me for!?”

After a while, your friends had stopped prying, though the girls still gave you side-eyes and grilled you when Bakugo wasn’t around. Especially after he gave you that necklace three years ago.

“Oh my God, ‘Sukiiii! I love it!”

You had nearly tackled him when you ripped the wrapping off, revealing a thin gold chain with a small, elegant K hanging from it. The metal shimmered under the dorm lights, and your heart nearly burst.

“You gonna stop screeching so I can put the damn thing on you?”

You wore it every day. Bakugo didn’t know what it was, but something twisted in his chest every time he saw that delicate sparkle against your brown skin. A tight, unfamiliar feeling that he always brushed off.

The blonde clicked his tongue, irritation bubbling under his skin as he noticed you still hadn’t come down for breakfast. Again.

“This fuckin’ girl,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand down his face. He already knew what was up. You never set your alarms properly, and even now, in your third year, you still woke up barely twenty minutes before class.

Grumbling the whole way up to your room, Bakugo didn’t bother knocking this time. He just pounded on your door once before shoving it open, golden eyes narrowing at the lump buried under layers of blankets.

"You always fucking do this," he snapped, marching over to your window. With one rough yank, he pulled the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. “I’m tired of draggin’ your ass outta bed every day!”

"Then stop fucking doing it..." you grumbled, voice muffled against your pillow.

He didn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he ripped the blankets clean off you, forcing a dramatic groan from your lips as the cold air hit your skin. You barely had a second to react before your quirk flared up, an instinctive warning shot sparking from your fingertips. But Bakugo was used to your games. He dodged easily and shoved you toward the bathroom.

“Go shower, dumbass.”

You sent him a glare over your shoulder before stomping inside, slamming the door dramatically behind you. Unbothered, Bakugo walked to your closet, yanking out your uniform like it was second nature. You had been in his life for as long as he could remember, since before either of you had quirks or even full teeth in your mouths. You were the only one he really listened to—the only one he ever let check him when his ego got too big.

You and Midoriya had been his childhood friends, but it was you who kept him grounded, you who threatened to stop being friends with him when his bullying got out of hand. And even though he had been a stubborn little shit, he always found his way back to you.

The bathroom door creaked open, steam spilling into the room as you stepped out, skin still dewy from the heat. A towel was wrapped around your body, and without a word, you took the uniform from Bakugo’s outstretched hands.

“You gonna stand there, or you gonna turn around?” you teased, raising a brow.

The corner of his lip curled up. “Like I ain’t seen you in less before.”

It was true. You had spent countless nights in his bed, knocked out in one of his oversized skull T-shirts. He had seen you in a towel more times than he could count. But still, he turned around, rubbing the back of his neck as you changed.

"So, we going to the party tonight?" you asked casually, the sound of body spray filling the air.

"You wanna go, mama?"

"That's not what I asked."

He didn’t answer. Just pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. "Can you hurry the hell up? We got, like, five minutes till class. I'll leave your ass here."

You laughed, stepping in front of him fully dressed. Your hair was pulled into a bun, your braids a perfect shade of soft brown, complementing the warmth of your skin. The scent of vanilla and cocoa butter wrapped around him, triggering something deep and familiar in his chest. His eyes flickered over your uniform—knee-high socks, skirt too damn short, tie missing, but that K still sat perfectly on your collarbone.

"No, you wouldn't," you said smugly, looping your arm through his as you walked toward the door. "And since you didn’t answer my question—we’re going to the party.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. Because you were right. He was going. Even if he hadn’t planned on it before.

And, though he didn’t say it, there was an uneasy feeling twisting in his gut.

The bass of the music thrummed through your body as you giggled, swaying your hips to the beat alongside Mina. Your limbs were warm, your movements loose—three shots deep and already tipsy. The party had been going strong for nearly two hours, and you, Mina, and Jiro were thoroughly frassed. The latter was curled up on Kaminari’s lap, lazily sipping her drink while his fingers traced over her thighs.

Across the room, Bakugo sat sprawled on the couch, legs wide, his body relaxed in that effortlessly cocky way of his. A red Solo cup dangled from his fingers, half-full, while the blunt made its way around the circle. His crimson gaze, however, was locked onto you.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

His jaw flexed as you rolled your hips, your laughter carried through the air, completely unaware of the way he was struggling.

"So when are you gonna quit the act and make this official?"

Bakugo tore his gaze away with a sharp tsk, already knowing where this was going. Kirishima smirked at him from the other end of the couch, watching Mina dance with you.

"Shut up."

Kirishima chuckled. "I’m serious, bro. Someone might swoop her up if you keep acting like a dumbass."

Bakugo scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. "Yeah, if they wanna fucking die."

The redhead hummed, eyes flickering toward the crowd. "Well… looks like Monoma picked a perfect day to die."

Bakugo’s entire body stiffened.

His head snapped back toward you, and sure enough—there he was.

That damn copycat.

You were laughing at whatever bullshit Monoma was spewing, eyes hazy from the alcohol. Mina had helped pick out your outfit tonight, and it showed. Your dark denim shorts sat high on your hips, shaping your ass perfectly, while your low-cut black cropped graphic tee teased just enough stomach to show off your belly piercing.

You weren't a fan of makeup, but you always had eyelashes on and some form of gloss on your lips and the chocolate lip gloss you chose today paired perfectly with your skin.

You remembered the way Katsuki's brows raised as you and Mina came down to the common room. He didn't think anyone noticed, but his eyes lingered on your stomach and thighs a little too long before his hands found your waist and walked you to the cab the guys had called.

Your mind was pulled back when the blonde in front of you ran his finger down your cheek, you didn't have enough time to smack his hand away before Katsuki harshly shoved the other blonde. His hand made its way around your waist, his fingers resting on your exposed flesh, sending a shiver right through you.

"Can I help you?"

Everyone knew the unspoken rule. Every guy who had tried to hit on you in the past backed off the moment Bakugo got involved. But Monoma? Monoma was either too dense or too reckless to care.

"What’s it to you, Bakugo?" Monoma sneered, brushing himself off.

Your skin burned where Bakugo’s fingers rested. His grip tightened slightly. You swallowed.

Before things could escalate, someone shouted about a drinking game.

You seized the moment, grabbing Bakugo’s wrist and pulling him toward the forming circle.

You were pulled into Katsuki's lap as soon as he sat down, his hand firmly placed on the inside of your legs, your ass rubbed against his jean glad semi. He was used to this, you sat on his lap daily and slept in his bed almost every night, he was used to you pushing your ass against him but for some reason, he thinks you're doing it on purpose right now.

You weren’t oblivious to the growing heat between you two, the way the alcohol only made you more aware of him. And from the way his fingers flexed against your inner thigh, he wasn’t oblivious either.

The game was already in full swing, a mixture of embarrassing questions, wild dares, and far-too-heavy drinking. You took two shots to dodge a question, only for Bakugo to pinch your thigh and grumble, "Pussy."

You wistled along with everyone as Jiro finished giving Kaminari a dirty snog. Mina’s eyes scanned the crowd before her eyes settled on you her fingers fished through the deck of cards before a twinkle lit her eyes up.

"Okay, next, y/n drink or answer?"

You raised a brow. "Don’t I need to hear the question first?"

Mina waved a Joker card. "Nope. I get to ask anything."

You hesitated, contemplating your options before nodding. "Fine."

Mina's grin turned wicked.

"BJ, backshots, missionary—"

"MINA!"

"—Monoma, Bakugo, or Kiri?"

"W-what, Mina!?" The redhead was equally as concerned as you, Mina rubbed his arm before whispering something in his ear. Whatever it was seemed to calm the sturdy hero down but the blush on his cheek didn't go unnoticed by you or the blonde under you.

You could feel his body tense as soon as the names left your pink friend, your body reacting to the feel of his hand on the inside of your thigh but you willed yourself to not look at him.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, reaching for your drink, only for Mina to wag a finger.

"Ah, ah, Joker card. No drinking your way out of this."

Your heart pounded as all eyes landed on you. Kiri looked less concerned now, like he could laugh off whatever you said about him.

"You know," You and everyone else watched as the blonde for resident 3B stood up as he adjusted his jeans. "We can just act out all three if it makes your answer easier."

You didn't even have time to cuss his nasty ass out before Bakugo grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Your eyes were blown wide open as you watched the angry boy start to yell in his face. Kirishima was already on Bakugo but it didn't register what was going on around you, Katsuki always defended you, always fought off boys who were getting too touchy but this felt different.

You don't know if it was the drinks or the weed but your inside was a mess, you knew your panties were as well and it was getting very hard not to do anything about it.

"You wanna try say that fucking shit again!?"

Monoma had a shit-eating grin on his face as he let some mini explosions go off in Bakugo's face, you knew you needed to get him out of there before he blew up the whole of 3B.

And you weren’t talking about Monoma.

You didn't remember dragging him away from the blonde, you certainly didn't remember as he began dragging you upstairs so one of the rooms. But here you were, in someone else’s room watching as he tried to calm his breathing down.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bed and just let him come around.

"Fucking shit, who the fuck does he think he is!?" It was rhetorical and you knew that but something was bugging you.

"Why is it making you so angry? He does this shit all the time." You mumbled, your eyes noticing the way his body tensed to the sound of your voice. His head snapped towards you as he seemed to remember you were there.

"Why wouldn't it make me fucking angry? He's a lowlife scum who needs to stop fucking talking to you like your a fucking piece of meat." He snapped, eyes very much ablaze from his anger.

You bit the corner of your lip, gnawing at your thoughts. You never had a problem speaking your mind to the blonde, so even as you felt the erratic heartbeat against your chest you asked the question that you knew would change everything.

"But why?"

"Because why would I let someone else have you when you're mine!"

…

You could feel your heart in your ears, the tension was already high but now the room was filled. You watched as he approached you, nervously shuffling on the bed but not taking your eyes off him.

His eyes were dark, burning with something raw, something dangerous.

“You’ve been mine forever,” he muttered, voice low and rough like gravel. His crimson gaze locked onto yours, intense, possessive. “But the moment you put my initials around your neck? That sealed it.”

Your throat went dry as his words sank in.

“You think I’d let some extra take what’s mine?”

He was towering over you now, and you had to tilt your head back just to keep eye contact. His gaze flickered downward—to your lips, your chest, the way your breath was coming faster, shallower. He was watching you react to him, soaking it all in like it fueled him.

And maybe it did.

The crazy part was—you weren’t surprised.

Not at his words. Not at the possessiveness in his voice. Not at the way his fingers twitched, itching to grab you, to claim you.

Because deep down, you already knew.

You knew it every time he shoved past guys who dared to flirt with you. You knew it every time his hand found your waist at parties, steering you away before anyone got ideas.

And it wasn’t just him.

You remembered when Camie tried to flirt with him, and your fists curled so tightly, you nearly drew blood from your own palms. You remembered when first-years tried slipping him love notes, and you scared them so bad, they never looked his way again.

But the moment you knew?

It was that night. The night he was taken from you.

The night you felt like your entire soul had been ripped from your chest.

You barely functioned—until Izuku snapped you out of it, and you threw yourself into battle to bring him home. You didn’t sleep for two nights after that, staying by his side even when he told you to leave.

But he never really meant it.

You could tell by the way his fingers curled around your wrist when you tried to go.

And when he kissed you for the first time? When he made love to you that night? It changed everything.

It was never spoken about, never addressed—but from that moment on, he was yours, and you were his.

And now?

Now, he was standing between your legs, hands on your thighs, looking at you like he wanted to devour you.

His thumb traced your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly. His voice was lower now, raspier.

“What you thinkin’ about, ma?”

You swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

“Our first time.”

A groan rumbled from deep in his chest, and his grip on your thighs tightened. He kneeled down, his nose barely brushing yours.

“You remember it?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Course I do, ’Suki.”

His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed, forcing your legs open just a bit more. His lips hovered over yours, close enough that you could feel his breath fan across your skin.

His next words sent a sharp, hot pulse straight through you.

“You know you’re mine, right?”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a statement. A fact. A warning.

You barely managed to nod, your hand sliding up to cover his, needing to touch him, to ground yourself.

“Always been yours, 'Suki.” You barely got out his name before he smashed his lips to yours, not soft. Not hesitant. It was deep, hot, and desperate, a collision of everything you had held back for too long. You gasped into his mouth, and he took advantage, his tongue slipping inside to tangle with yours.

Your fingers twisted into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more. His hands roamed your curves, one sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. He kissed you like he was starving and in a sense, he was.

His grip tightened on your hips, fingers digging into your curves like he was staking his claim. Like he was trying to make sure you felt everything he had never been able to say.

You pulled away just enough to catch your breath, your foreheads touching. His fingers brushed along your jaw, thumb grazing your swollen lips, he groaned as you wrapped your lips around his thumb. His eyes darkened, his chuckle filling up the room, his voice dark with command as he stared at you.

"Your knees, now mama."

You didn't waste any time, you were eager to please him, your eyes never leaving his eyes as you made quick work on his jeans. Your core clenched when you heard the groan that admitted from the blonde once you wrapped your fingers around his cock.

You swiped your tongue along the base of his cock, moaning at the taste of him but you whined once you felt his fingers bunch around your braids, lifting your head so your eyes met his blazing red ones.

"Stop teasing, or I'll fuck your throat. Suck. Now."

Your lashes fluttered against your lids before you looked down and took his cock into your mouth.

"Fuuuuck." Your eyes rolled back, the sound of the man above of moaning to your actions. You continued to lap at him, your tongue laid flat as you continued to take more of him and soon you were gaging on him.

You pull back swiftly, letting a trail of spit fall onto his tip as your hands work him with firm, synchronised movements. Your breath is shallow, but you waste no time before taking him back into your throat, your shoulders trembling slightly with each gag and splutter that escapes around his length. Katsuki's hands tightened around your hair, his mind racing with thoughts on how you were never going to leave him, not after this.

As you pull back again, saliva drips down his cock, and your tongue teases the slit at the tip while you glance up at him through heavy lashes. Your lip gloss has all but disappeared, leaving its mark instead at the base of his cock, staining his pubes with a faint brown hue. Yet, you show no hesitation, no shame—smiling wickedly as your tongue presses cruelly into his slit, your hands continuing their relentless, rough strokes along his shaft.

He ripped you off him with a deep, shuddering breath. His thumb brushed your swollen lips, and his jaw clenched at the sight of you—eyes hazy, lips glossy, your breath coming out in short, needy gasps.

“Not gonna cum unless it’s inside that pretty pussy mama,” he muttered, his voice gravelly.

You shuffled against the bed as he began to pull down your shorts, his lips trailing kisses along your ankles up to your thighs. A shuddered breath left your lips as his mouth got closer to your inner thigh, his fingers trailing along your clothed clit.

"You gonna let me eat?" You moaned at the desperation in his voice, your head quickly nodding but Katsuki took his time with you. His lips kissing the inside of your thighs, his eyes looking up at you.

"Sukiiii. don't tease me."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want." You gasped as he ripped your panties from your cunt.

He grabs your thighs, spreading them wide with an urgency that makes you gasp. His eyes are wild, hungry, drinking at the sight of your beautiful brown skin like a man starved. The way he looks at you—it's primal, desperate, years of holding back finally snapping like a dam breaking loose.

He dives between your legs without hesitation, his hot tongue immediately finding your clit with fierce determination. Your back arches off the bed as he devours you, his groans vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His strong hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth as if he can't get enough of your taste. Each stroke of his tongue is demanding, almost possessive, making your toes curl and drawing breathless moans from your throat.

"Fuck," he pants against you, his voice rough with need. "Been wanting this—wanting you—for so fucking long." His words are barely coherent as he returns to his feast, alternating between sucking your clit and letting his tongue delve deep inside you. Your moans grew as your hands found their way into his ash-blonde hair, gripping tight as he worked you with an intensity that borders on desperation.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, leaving marks that you'll feel tomorrow—proof of how you were his. Every flick of his tongue, every hungry moan against your wet flesh tells the story of countless nights spent dreaming of this moment. Your best friend, always so controlled, now completely undone by the desire for you, eating you out like it's his last meal like he's trying to make up for every second he spent holding back.

“Fu--ck Kats, gonna cum. Please let me cum.” You all but whined as he pushed a finger into your tight cunt. You squealed as he lightly bit on your clit before his eyes met yours.

“Come on then pretty, want you to cum all over my face before you cum all over my cock.” You could barely hear your moans as the sound of your pussy squelching filled the room, now two fingers buried deep inside of you as his mouth enveloped your cunt for the last time.

Your mind went blank as you squirted all over his face, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he quickly worked you through your orgasm.

“There you go ma, you did so well for me.” He kissed the inside of your thighs before he made quick work of your clothes, your brown nipples were greeted with sloppy kisses, your heart swelled from how tentative he was being. But you weren’t surprised.

The first time you had been together, the first time you had both given yourselves to each other—it had been slow, careful, a confession neither of you were ready to say out loud.

But this?

This was different.

This was claiming.

“Wanna feel you, ‘Suki,” you whispered. “Please.”

The blonde groaned against your neck; no doubt he left a hickey as he continued to kiss the same spot. He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, your leg pulled over his shoulder. With a gentle yet firm motion, he enters you, and a gasp escapes your lips as you feel him fill you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy. He pauses, allowing you to adjust, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. When you nod, he begins to move, each thrust deliberate and deep as if trying to etch this moment into your soul.

"Fuuuckkk, how are you still so tight baby?” You moan from the deep, continued thrusts he gave you. Your fingers wrung their way into his hair, tugging at every thrust you received, your moans were loud-- not realising or even caring whether or not your classmates could hear you.

You felt his hand around your throat, your pussy fluttering around his cock causing him to groan in your ear. You felt him squeeze slightly, causing your eyes to fly open to meet his red ones.

"Open."

It was a demand, your mouth opened instantly-- your tongue hanging out. You watched as a string of spit left Katsuki's mouth and dropped into yours. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed without hesitation, you both moaned at the sight, and Bakugo delivered a hard thrust to you causing your second orgasm to crash over you.

The pace quickens, yet in one fluid movement, he shifts your position. With a rough tug of your hips, he rolls you over onto your hands and knees,

"Ass up mama-- yeah just like that." You moaned as you felt the air thick with anticipation; his demeanour shifted— you hadn't felt him re-enter you, your head turns to look at him but the spank came quick to your ass.

"Don't remember telling you to turn around, face in the sheets. Now."

Whines left your lips as your cunt clenched around nothing from the roughness of his voice. You heard him groan as he palmed your ass, slapping it slightly, you knew he was watching it jiggle so you gave him a show.

You arched your back a little more, wiggling your ass softly but before you could continue you felt him enter you-- hard.

He lines up behind you, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he thrusts in with a belligerent urgency. Every thrust is deep and deliberate, fueled by years of pent-up desire. The sounds of wet skin against skin, the slap of his hip against your body, and your moans mingling in the heated air form a chaotic, raw symphony of lust.

“Say it,” he demands, voice low and commanding as he pounds into you. “Tell me you’re mine—utter it like you mean it.” His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and through gasps and whimpers, you manage, “I’m yours … always.” With each word, he drives deeper, his hunger bordering on desperation, his motions rougher, his grip on you intense and unyielding.

Your nails raked along the sheets beneath you, you gripped the sheets as you felt his hand wrap around your braids-- pulling slightly causing the pain to mix in with the pleasure of his continued thrusts.

"You walked around with my initials around your neck but acted like it meant nothing."

"It did-- meant everything, Sukiii." He growled, his eyes watched as a creamy ring pooled around the base of his cock. His eyes darkened even more, not long later his hand wrapped around your stomach as he pulled you up against his chest, his fingers moved down to your clit-- you squealed, eyes fluttering as he continued his rough thrusts.

"I love you unno," He nipped at your ear, your eyes welled with tears, you didn't know whether it was from the pleasure or the emotions. You turned to face him, your lips meeting his, the kiss was sloppy but that didn't defer from the passion and love you poured into it.

"Love you to Suki, so much." That was it for him, his lips brushed against yours- he murmured for you to cum and that was all it took, you came around him-- hard. Black dots sported your vision, your body gone limp but his arms still held you up as he chased his own orgasm.

He whispered soothing words into your ear as ropes of his cum painted the inside of your walls.

Your body fell to the mattress, your breathing trying to even out as you felt him leave you. You whined from the emptiness but you felt him clean you up as you trailed kisses down your spine.

"I don't have to say it right?"

You giggled, turning over to face him. "No Kat, I know I'm yours-- so you tell those fass ass girls that you have a girlfriend now."

He chuckled at your response, helping you get dressed. Everyone knew him as the angry explosive blonde, but to you he was just Katsuki and Katsuki loved you.

He left kisses along your body, you both knew you had to go back downstairs, whether it was to the party or not but you needed to go back to your dorms.

Your eyes blinked up at him, confusion swimming in your thoughts, "Wait. Who's room did we fuck in?"

You didn't have long to ponder, the door opened causing your eyes to blow wide but the smirk on Katsuki's face got bigger.

"Guess what copy cat, we just acted out all three."

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[sturnsdarling]

'I get them too, sometimes'

y/n has an anxiety attack, and bff!matt calms her down the only way he can think of in the moment

vibe check: detailed anxiety attack, comforting!matt, anxious!reader, fluffy ending cute vibes all round

1.5k words

A/N: WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN anyways this is based on the iconic stydia scene where stiles has a panic attack and lydia kisses him. I was gonna do it where Matt had the anxiety attack but it felt icky so I swapped it round. as an anxious girlie this was weirdly comforting to write and PART TWO IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

The boys' house was vibrating with the thump of music from every corner. People were pouring in through the front door, all mingling in the living room as Chris' party playlist blared through the speakers. Almost everyone in the influencer space was there, and you felt like the odd one out.

The boys' had begged you to come, pulling the 'it wont be the same without you' card as they all glared at you with puppy eyes. They knew parties weren't really your thing but, it was a celebration for them hitting seven million on their youtube channel and, you knew you couldn't miss it. So after some begging and bribing with 'literally anything you want from that weird old book shop in downtown' you agreed to go.

You felt like you were wearing a sign that said, in big bold letters; 'I don't belong here' as you lent against the kitchen counter, nursing some liquid courage. Chris was on the sofa, his laughter booming over the music as he sat with Nate and some boys you didn't recognise. Nick was at the drink station, making cocktails with the girls, pretending to be a bartender as he tired, and failed, at bar flares, making everyone around him curl over with laughter, as usual. Matt was on the other side of the kitchen, talking to some people about whatever show he was obsessed with at the moment and peering over at you occasionally to make sure you were okay.

More and more people started to pile into the house, more people than you even thought they knew, and at the sight of tens of faces you didn't know, a tight feeling started to form in your chest. You knew you were okay, because you had the boys, but they were off mingling and doing their rounds and you didn't exactly want to follow them around like a lost puppy.

You put your drink down, walking over to the sink to fill a red cup with water, your hand shaking slightly as you brought the cup to your mouth. You took a gulp and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and reminding yourself that you were fine, and you were in the boys' house. You knew that they wouldn't invite anyone that they didn't trust in their home and just kept reminding yourself of that.

An already drunk and giggly girl barged into the kitchen, flayling about without a care in the world as she backed up into you, knocking your drink from your hand and nearly pushing you into the sink.

"oh, shit, m'so sorry babe" she said as you turned around slightly. She placed a soft hand on your shoulder and squeezed it, "oh my god you're so pretty what the fuck!" she squealed, "m'sorry for spilling your drink" she slurred, sauntering away as you forced a smile.

Despite the somewhat sweet interaction, something about it made your fingers go numb, your chest tightening at the feeling of your wet shirt clinging to your skin. The walls started to close in and you felt as if you could feel the world turning on its axis. Your breath felt like sand paper against your throat as you tried to steady your rapid heart rate and failed.

You pushed your way through the crowds of people and b-lined for Matt's room, your knees nearly buckling under you as you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

As if he could feel your energy change, Matt instinctively looked for you in the crowd, catching a glimpse of your frame as you ducked between people, near enough running to his room.

"I'll be right back" he said to the guy in front of him, placing his drink down and following you through the crowd, calling out your name as he did.

You fumbled at the door handle, pushing yourself inside Matts room as your vision began to blur. Your chest was heaving up and down with rapid breaths, every inhale felt nearly impossible and everything around you was pulsating, your vision turning to a fishbowl as you clawed at your chest.

"y/n/n" Matt entered the room, searching for you in the dim light.

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with tears as you pressed hard fingers into your sternum, Matts eyes widened at the sight of you and he shut the door, coming to you in an instant, gentle hands on your shoulders as he tried to keep them in one place.

"hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay" He repeated, knowing immediately what was happening.

"I can't - I can't breathe" you stuttered out, pleading eyes burning holes into his. Your knees buckled from under you, feeling like the world was shifting under your feet.

Matt followed you to the floor, hands still gripping your shoulders. "Its okay, breathe with me, okay?" He said, taking a long inhale and encouraging you to copy him, his eyes baring into yours.

You tried to mimic his movements, a shaky breath rattling through your nose. Matt breathed out, nodding as he did and you did the same, the feeling in your chest only worsening, it felt like someone had tied a belt round your shoulders, and was pulling it closed as tight as they could around your chest, watching with a smile as the breath left your lungs.

You clenched your eyes closed and shook your head, "s'not working, Matt, nothing is working" a small sob left you as you grew more and more frustrated.

His jaw clenched at the sight of your shaking frame, feeling utterly helpless as you clawed at your chest. He brought his hands to cup your cheeks, bringing your head up to look at him.

"Its okay, y/n, m'right here, I'm right here" he poured into you, not letting you break eye contact as he tried to breathe as slowly as possible.

His thumbs stroked soft touches against your cheek, his eyes racing around your face as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Your eyes flitted back and forth between his, searching for solace in his face, feeling like the walls were closing in around you. Matts eyes fell to your lips, and quickly met your eyes once more. Your brows furrowed in frustration, eyes running circles around his features as his lips parted slightly.

Before you could register what was happening, Matt pulled you into him, crashing his lips against yours in a soft yet strong kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling, Matts soft lips pressed against yours as he held you tight against his face. After a moment in the embrace, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, and you started to kiss him back, your arms limp by your sides.

In that moment, you felt as if nothing mattered. Your heart rate slowed and you took a calm, steady breath in through your nose. Matt pulled away from the kiss, hands still wrapped around your face as you took a long breath out through your parted mouth. Matts eyes fluttered open and he let his hands drop down to his knees. Your eyes met his, slow breaths engulfing your lungs.

"h - how did you do that?" you asked in a breathy tone

"I um - I saw somewhere that the best way to stop a panic attack is by holding your breath, so" he muttered, averting his gaze from yours.

"so, when you kissed me" you began to speak

"you held your breath" he looked back up at you, bringing his lips inside themselves, the taste of your lip balm dancing on his tongue.

You smiled, a final, relieved breath leaving your lips as you stared into him.

"thankyou" your gaze was soft and utterly grateful, doe eyes pouring into his as he shuffled where he sat.

"of course" he shrugged, looking down to the floor

You sat in silence for a moment, not a trace of awkwardness hung in the air.

"I get them too, sometimes" Matt said as he toyed with a piece of lint on the floor.

"you do?" you said, still looking at him

"mhm" he nodded, meeting your eye-line, slightly taken back by you already looking at him, "feels like the whole world is crumbling around you, shits' not fun"

"yeah" you chuckled, relaxing where you sat.

"d'you - do you wanna hang out in here for a bit? I can stay with you" Matt said, his eye contact wavering at the offer only to return to you once more.

"oh you don't - you don't have to do that, Matt, you'll miss your party" you shook your head.

"I don't really like parties anyway" he replied, "I'd honestly rather sit here with you on the floor all night" he chuckled, gesturing to the floor.

You smiled as a soft laugh left your nose, "okay" you said.

"yeah?" his head shot up to meet your gaze.

"yeah." you nodded

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[daisynik7]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: next-door neighbor Nanami, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, cream pie, sex without a condom, mention of sex toys, use of pet names (sweetheart), just horny things lol 

Summary: You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help.

Author’s Note: idk, just feeling a little feral for him, that’s all. this is a silly one, sorry. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 2 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

You stare wide-eyed up at the ceiling of your bedroom, legs apart, the blankets shrugged off to the side. You’re naked from the waist-down, panties tossed to the floor with your vibrator hanging loosely in your grip. You’ve been going at it for nearly half an hour now, trying to chase a high that you just can’t seem to reach on your own. Sure, you’re doing fine. That’s just it, though. It’s just fine. Nothing spectacular, nothing mind-blowing. Tonight, you’re desperate to be filled, aching to be stuffed. Stimulation on your clit alone isn’t enough to satiate your appetite. 

You. Need. Cock.

And you think you know exactly where to find it. 

Nanami is your next-door neighbor. He’s quiet, even a bit shy at times. You’ve always found him attractive. Aside from his obvious good looks, he’s been kind to you since you met him when you moved in months ago. You’ve shared several meals together after you gave him fresh herbs and cherry tomatoes from your garden. That seemed to break the ice between you. Nothing more has ever happened, though there’s a palpable tension that surrounds you whenever you’re together, almost like you’re both willing to cross the line from neighbors to lovers, but too scared to do so. Subtle glances, lingering touches, suggestive comments. 

If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

Whatever you need, I’ll be here.

I’m here for you if you need me.

Tonight, you’re in heat, daring to march right into his apartment and ask him for a huge favor. This might go horribly wrong, and maybe you’ll end up moving out from sheer embarrassment, but you know what? The fantasy of taking his big cock deep in your pussy is enough to convince you that it’s worth a shot. 

You wrap yourself in a robe, not bothering to put on any underwear, still wet from your previous orgasms. With three gentle knocks on his door, your heart starts to race, your instincts willing you to walk right back into your apartment and forget about this ridiculous idea. It’s too late, however. He answers, surprised to see you. You greet him with a weak smile, suddenly shy in his presence. “Hello, Nanami. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in. “Are you alright?”

He shuts the door closed and you don’t have the nerve to look him in the eye. You were so confident just moments ago, and now look at you. Trembling and flustered. You cross your arms over your chest, unsure what to say. 

You feel him right behind you now, his body heat radiating towards you, close enough that if either of you moved even the slightest bit, you’d be touching. His breath is warm on your ear. “Are you alright?” he repeats, genuine concern in his voice. He’s always been so sweet to you. So nice. So helpful. Maybe he’d be okay with doing this for you, just this once. 

You turn to face him, cheeks hot, saliva gathering in your mouth. Swallowing thickly, you ask, “Can you help me?” It almost comes out as a whimper, a whine. So needy and so desperate for his touch.

His eyes drop to your waist, focused on the loose knot holding your robe together. His fingers tug gently at it, pulling it apart, revealing your half-naked body to him. You gasp softly, surprised and aroused by his sudden action. “Finally,” is all he mutters before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and greedy, just like you are, tongue pushing against yours, eager for a taste of you. You moan into his mouth, pawing at his chest, bunching his shirt between your fists. He leads you to the couch, sitting down and hoisting you onto his lap, sliding the robe off your body along with the rest of your clothes. You’re completely bare for him now, spread out on his lap. He looks down between you, watching your arousal seep into his grey sweatpants. 

“So wet,” he groans. “How many times did you come tonight?” He grabs your chin, pulling you in to kiss you fiercely. 

“Three,” you answer, licking at his lips. 

He smiles against you, fingers trailing your body until they’re pressed to your puffy clit. “That sounds about right. I heard you through the walls, fucking yourself silly.”

“You did?” you huff, grinding on his palm, yearning for friction. 

He nods. “Oh yes. I heard every filthy moan from this pretty mouth of yours. Been waiting for you to finally give in and ask me for help.” He strokes your clit between his fingers, teasing your entrance to collect your cum, smearing it on your bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against him. It feels so fucking good, but it’s still not enough. 

He knows exactly what you need. With his free hand, he shoves his pants down his legs, releasing his hard cock. You marvel at how pretty it is in his fist, stroking it and tapping it on your clit. You lift yourself off his lap to sink down onto his length, moaning wantonly until he’s all the way inside. Staying still, he kisses you sloppily, squeezing your ass in both his hands. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, nuzzling his nose to yours. “You wanted this cock, and now you have it. Show me how badly you need it.” He leans back against the couch, resting his palms behind his head, watching you like a spectator. “Ride me until I fill you up.”

Too horny to protest (and why would you anyways?), you obey, stroking his cock at a slow pace until you can adjust to his massive size. Once it becomes a fluid motion, you speed up, slapping your ass against his thighs. He’s deep in your womb now, so deep you feel it in your stomach. This is precisely the high you’ve been chasing all night, and it only makes it sweeter knowing it’s with him. Your handsome, nice, and clearly well-endowed neighbor, Nanami Kento. 

He's can’t stand not touching you any longer. His hands return to your waist, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll, yielding to his every thrust. “You needed my cock today, huh? Needed my dick to pound this tight pussy of yours. Your stupid little toys weren’t enough, were they?”

You shake your head erratically, so close now. “Need you, Kento. Needed this fat cock inside me.”

He growls at the sound of his name from your mouth. “Fuck, I needed this too. Been needing it for a while now.” He latches his lips around your nipples, sucking on them until they’re plump between his lips. His thumb caresses your sensitive clit, massaging gentle circles around it. Suddenly, everything is too much. You’re gushing for him, coating his cock in your cream, all messy and obscene. Soon, he comes too, stuffing you full of his seed. Just when you think it’s over, he pulls out to lay you flat on the couch, spreading your legs wide, a naughty grin on his face before he dives in, lapping at your combined arousal. 

You wake up with Nanami’s name spilling out of your mouth. Disoriented, you look around, finding yourself back in your own bed, alone. It was all a dream. A fucking dream (literally). Disappointed and still horny, you sigh, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, calling it quits for the night. 

To your surprise, there’s a knock on your door. When you go to answer it, Nanami stands before you, an obvious blush on his face and an even bigger bulge in his grey sweatpants. He steps towards you, a shy smile on his face. “I heard you calling my name. Sounds like you could use a helping hand.” 

[toyourheartandback]

THOUGHT OF YOU (18+)

luke castellan x reader

even after everything he has done and everything he will be doing you can’t say no to luke

word count: 2.13k

MDNI! warnings: smut, foreplay, p in a v, sweet loving sex (because i’m a romantic sorry), reader has a female anatomy and bad english as always

a/n: don’t judge pls, it took me months to write this between exams and life being shitty. i just hope you like it and i apologize for not being able to be active :(

exam season was finally over. you were just returning home after going out with your classmates, celebrating before everyone separated for the summer. exhausted and slightly tipsy, you fumbled in the dim hallway, desperately searching your apartment keys. as you reached to unlock the door, your halfblood’s instincts flared to warn you that something was wrong. someone had picked the lock of your house.

your heart raced as you slipped the knife hidden from your boot and pushed the door open, stepping inside. the living room was dimly lit, but you knew what to expect. luke castellan was there, leaning casually against the back of your sofa, as though he belonged. without hesitation, you pressed the blade to his neck. he still smelled like woodsmoke and peanut butter, a scent that once smelled like home. "i should kill you right now," he didn’t flinch, instead he chuckled at your words, the low vibration making his skin graze the edge of your weapon.

"i'm going to lay this on the couch" he smirked as you let him slowly unclasp viper from his belt and set it down as promised, his dark brown eyes never leaving yours. they had always been so beautiful, but they didn't even look like luke's anymore. your bodies were as close as they could get without touching and you could feel the cold radiating from his, so unusual for the boy you once used to snuggle with on chilly nights at camp. "It's just me, toots" his words weren't making sense to you.

he resembled the son of hermes you loved with those dark messy curls and tanned skin, but at the same time he looked nothing like him. luke castellan wasn't the sweet boy who helped you bake cookies for young campers anymore, but a traitor to the gods and to camp halfblood. he should have been that to you too, after everything you knew he had done to annabeth, chris, and everyone you loved. "how do I know he isn't also here?", because there was no way those things were actually done by your tender and perfect luke. it must have been the lord of the titans. your luke would never leave you.

his hands moved slowly, wrapping around yours to gently pry the knife from your grasp and setting it down beside viper on the sofa. "not tonight" luke murmured, his voice softer now. he pulled you closer, trailing every inch of your figure with his cold touch until he reached your waist, sending a shiver through you. your arms instinctively went to his shoulders, an old habit you couldn't seem to break. his nose brushed yours, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes locked on you like he was starving.

you knew you should end this. you should take advantage of his vulnerability, strike him down and put an end to the war. but you also longed for the way luke tasted of butter chapstick. you fingers curled into his t-shirt and before you could stop yourself your lips met his. he tangled his hand in your hair, making you moan as he deepened the kiss exactly the same way he knew you liked. "oh, i missed this so much," he murmured softly against your mouth, his mouth breaking slightly, before connecting with you again. he tapped gently on your thigh, a silent request, and you gave in, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried to your bedroom. the way he moved and the way your body fit against his was muscle memory. almost a year had passed since the last time he had been here, but it felt like no time at all.

the moment your back hit the mattress, luke's hands slid under your dress as he hovered over you. "are you sure?" he asked, toying with the strings of your panties, pulling back from your lips just enough to talk as his eyes were searching for any hesitation. your mind was foggy and the guilt buried too deep to surface, so you answered yes. you mostly plead him to touch you. that was all he needed. he tugged your underwear down and kissed his way along your neck, his lips exploring every inch of your skin. his mouth was frantic and desperate like he was trying to memorize you.

luke knelt over the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders as his lips trailed up your inner thighs. his hands pinned you down while his mouth inched closer to your core, your breathing growing heavier with anticipation. "castellan, you better fucking stop being a tease" you squirmed beneath him, your voice thick with need, as he smirked at your words and dragged his tongue along your folds. the boy was taking his sweet time with you, savoring every part of you, knowing full well you would have kicked him out long ago if you didn't want this as much as he did. you groaned and pulled him closer by his soft hair.

he pressed his mouth against your clit, his tongue twisting circles over it that sent waves of pleasure trough you. a loud sigh left your lips and your head fell back against the mattress. your fingers tangled in his messy curls as you gripped tightly as you were pleading him for more. his playful dark eyes met yours as his chin glistened already with your arousal. “what do you want from me, toots?” his voice low and mischievous, while his thumb was playing with you bundle of nerves. he was never going to stop being a fucking tease. “i want you” you whimpered, trying to desperately pull him closer for a kiss as you cupped his flushed cheeks. he obliged with a brief provoking peck before pulling back with a grin on his face. “how?” he asked amused. “inside of me” you breathed, almost a whisper. “please”

you gasped sharply, your breath hitching as you suddenly felt two of his finger slide inside you. “fuck,” you exclaimed when luke started to pump them, hitting the spot that makes you feel your stomach twist. “you know that’s not what i wanted” you managed to protest between breathy moans, your words faltering under the sweet assault of his lips on your neck. he only chuckled softly between kisses, his warm breath fanning against your skin. his free hand roamed over your chest, fingers teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress. “patience” he murmured as he tugged down the straps with ease to expose your breasts to the cool air. “i told you,” his lips found one of your nipples and without hesitation he sucked gently, drawing a gasp from you. “we have the whole night for ourselves.”

this time you let his head dip between your legs without protesting. his tongue and fingers were working perfectly together, drawing you closer and closer to your edge. his strong grip was pinning you down on the bed by your stomach as your mind started to feel hazy and your core seemed to be twisting and unraveling at once. by the time you voice was reduced to broken gasps and choked breaths and your hands were grabbing the fresh sheets beneath you to anchor yourself, you let your orgasm hit tearing through you like a storm. luke didn’t seem to be fully satisfied as he continued at his relentless pace, making you come a second time with a choked cry and a guttural, uncontrollable scream.

luke finally let you go, sweeping with his tongue your pleasure off his fingers and face to savor every trace of you. you were still trembling, struggling to steady yourself, when his low laugh broke the silence. “i missed your taste so fucking much” he murmured, his words full with adoration as his gaze locked onto yours. his eyes were so deep and tender, that for a fleeting moment it reminded you of the boy you fell in love back at camp. without thinking, you let yourself collapse into his lap, your knees pressing into cold and hard floor beneath the both of you, holding the sweet head counselor of the hermes’ cabin into your arms. your palm found his cheek as your finger traced his beautiful scar. “i miss you” you breathed, the confession slipping past your lips before you could stop it. the truth that you were trying to hide from everyone, even yourself, for so long made you feel both terrified and liberated.

luke’s brows furrowed in a mix of awe and longing, and his stare deepened, darkened, as though he was memorizing every inch of you. then, without hesitation, he closed the space between you in a raw, desperate and messy kiss. his mouth moved against yours with an open and unrestrained hunger as if he was trying to pour all of his emotions into this very moment. he separated from you not to hesitate, but only to get rid of your annoying dress and you mirrored his urgency to strip him of his equally irritating clothes. you were already out of breath again as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him, making you gasp at the feeling of his erection humping your core. “luke,” you whispered, your mouth trembling between kisses. “i need you” he didn’t waste a second to reach the condom in your second drawer from the top near your bed that he knew all too well of and roll it on himself without his gaze ever leaving yours.

you steadied yourself with an hand on his shoulders as he gently guided you down and you slowly took every inch of him. a gasp escaped your lips at the feeling of luke filling you completely, as perfect as he always fit like you two were made to be united by the gods themselves. he cupped your face, tangling his fingers into your hair, and pulled your foreheads together. “you mean everything to me” he murmured before kissing you. your chest tightened, for this night you let yourself believe his words, and started to roll your hips against his in search of the perfect rhythm.

each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing trough you, leaving you panting. your knees were bruising and scraping against the floor of your room. luke carefully moved your legs around him and lifted both of you on the bed behind you, pounding into you before your back could even meet the mattress. his soft moans and kind touch were the only thing keeping you grounded to the moment even as your mind was threatening to drift away under the overwhelming gratification of your bodies entwined. a whimper of his name escaped you like a prayer as your nails dug into the firm muscles of his back. his thrust grew faster, more urgent, as he approached his peak and with a groan he buried his head into the curve of your shoulder, his strong arms gripping your waist as if to anchor himself to you.

his hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he held on tightly, grounding himself as he reached his climax. his pushes were becoming sloppier, but were enough to get you through your edge following him as luke tenderly kissed every inch of your skin he could reach. “i love you” he whispered breathless into your lips. “i love you too” your voice was thick with emotions, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. if only he loved you more than his vengeance against the gods.

you gasped softly when he pulled away, leaving behind an hallow ache that mirrored the emptiness you had felt every day since he abandoned you. he discharged the condom carelessly on the floor before collapsing on the bed beside you, pulling you closer against his chest. luke’s warmth was both comforting and cruel. “can you stay until i fall asleep?” you asked, barely above a whisper as though your voice might shatter the fragile moment. your fingers traced aimless patterns on his skin in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself. you were trying to keep yourself together, knowing that if you let yourself dwell on why he was here the tears would spill over. “like i always do” he promised, tugging the covers over your bodies, and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, pulling you closer as though he could keep the two of you together only with his bare hands.

but luke already had his mother’s blessing and the only thing left was your goodbye.

[chososbabymama]

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of saying ‘no’ when you ask him to do something as he immediately gets up to do what you asked.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who buys your pitbull a thick gold chain, ‘so the other dogs at the park take her seriously.’

Boyfriend!Sukuna who SWORE he wasn’t interested in your silly little tv shows but sits with you every Sunday to watch South Central Baddies.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of chewing on things (bottle caps, pen caps, straws, etc.) so you buy him flavored toothpicks after he chewed the bottom of your favorite pen.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who bought you a huge bouquet of flowers because he knew you’d been feeling depressed the past couple of weeks and he missed seeing you smile.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who openly expresses his love for the way you handle Yuji, treating his nephew more like a son (Yuji definitely calls his uncle ‘dad’, and it makes both of you beam with joy each time).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who took great pleasure in being able to provide for you, taking you on trips, paying for your hair, treating you to dinner. In his mind, it was his way of saying thank you for taking care of him and being there . Always making sure Yuji was taken care of, doing the grocery shopping, not to mention you doing your own work for graduate school, Ryomen Sukuna would be a fool to not show you how much he valued you and your efforts.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who doesn't care to impress your folks. He knew he was a brash man, a little rough around the edges, that he wasn't the type of person your parents imagined you'd end up with. It'd taken 4 shots of Tito's and winning gin rummy against your father for them to start opening up to him (your favorite part of that night was when they'd decided to do a duet and sing I Like It by DeBarge)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who remembers your first date, how nervous he was sitting across from you that night. The poor man had spilled his glass of water all over himself because he was so nervous (he’ll deny it was nerves and claim the waiter bumped the table), accidentally stepped on your toes under the table (several times), and even caught part of his jacket sleeve on fire from reaching over the tables candle. What broke him was when he tried buying you flowers on the way home to try and make up for it, you BOTH were horrified to see hives suddenly break out on your skin and find out through a late night ER trip that your were allergic to that specific flower. Sukuna wont admit this either but he cried like a baby in your hospital room and again when you talked later and said you still wanted to go on a 2nd date with him (appalling luck aside, the date went extremely well).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who likes to bite you. He’ll be lying on your stomach while you use his back to read your book, when you first feel him start to suck on your tummy you don’t think much of it. As soon as you feel teeth you move your hands and look down to see your boyfriend with your tummy LITERALLY in his mouth, wide red eyes boring into yours as if you weren't essentially being used as a chew toy.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who'd gotten your name tattooed around his ring finger after your 7th date.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who was more excited than you when building your first pillow fort, arranging several pillows and blankets around you both to make a nest of sorts (he wasn't at all amused when you'd asked him if his omegas heat instincts were kickin in)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who feels the square velvet box burn a hole in his pocket. His fingers drum against the table anxiously as he watches you play with Yuji, wondering if you wanted the same things he did. But suddenly, you and his nephew turn in his direction. You’d taken one of Yuji’s hands and waved it his way, both of you having wide smiles on your faces as you giggle and tell the young boy to, “say hi to big grumpy!” At that moment Sukuna knew there was no way in hell he'd let another day go by without putting a ring on your finger.

Husband!Sukuna who watches you and Yuji make a house for the gingerbread family in the kitchen. He watched with adoring eyes as the boy in your arms picks up 3 gingerbreads, all decorated differently. With a wide, toothy grin Yuji proudly shows them to the tall man; declaring that, "dad! dad! guess what? it looks just like us! Do you like it?" The pink frosting smudging both of your cheeks, hair being held back by silly cartoon headbands, the fondness Sukuna felt for the both of you. He made his way to the kitchen island, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other to ruffle his boys hair before pressing a kiss to the crown. Nodding and gazing at you both with adoration, he coos out a sweet "Yeah little guy, I fuckin love it."

[msbyslilbimbo]

‼️MINORS DNI‼️

el oh el but pls imagine having sex with shidou and sae recording it, but like.

shidou has a muzzle on, because he’s a loud, bitey boy, and sae is so possessive he hates seeing anyone’s marks besides his own tainting your pretty skin- even if it’s shidou, who is literally his and your boyfriend- and every now and then in your haze, you feel the plastic bump into your clammy skin, and you hear shidou roar in anger.

“take this fuckin’ thing offa me, dickhead,” he growls.

“you haven’t earned the privilege to,” sae says simply. “when you’ve earned the right to be out of the muzzle, i’ll let you out, pup.”

theyre both so dominant, so rough, but sae will always hold the title of “dom” over shidou.

shidou’s big, beefy hands grip your waist sharp enough to leave indents with his nails, and he’s got you ass up on your knees while he pounds mercilessly into you, cock prodding your cervix with every thrust of his hips. the entire bed shifts and creaks as he rocks into you, reeling his hips fully back before using all the force he can muster to slam back into you. your entire body moves with him, and your thighs burn from keeping your hips so high in the air, your only saving grace being your chest and face are smushed into the mattress, drool and tears staining the already dark ruby comforter.

your body trembles. the heat between all three bodies makes you writhe and stir. your pussy throbs around shidou’s girthy dick, juices spilling from your hole causing a froth that splatters against your ass with every pound he gives you.

all the while, sae is on his knees just a few inches away, close enough to touch but too far for your jellied limbs to reach out for, which makes you whine. he’s got his phone camera steady in his hands while his cock stands proudly, but dejectedly, at the sight of his girlfriend being ruined. your eyes struggle focusing on him, but when you do make eye contact, he smirks down at you.

“guess you’re not fucking her well enough, shidou,” he jeers. “she still looks for me while you’re balls deep inside of her. what a brat.” he brings the phone down to your face, and you whimper and try to hide in the mattress from embarrassment and the bright light of the flash.

only for shidou to stop pounding you for a moment, just a moment, and lace his fingers through your hair, pulling you up to face the camera. your arms instinctively firm to hold your weight up and try to ease the burn on your scalp. “is that right?” he snarls. “you want sae to take care of this sensitive pussy? my cock not good enough for you anymore?”

there is no right answer. you know if you say no, you want shidou, he’ll force you to take his cock until you both cum, only for sae to make you face away while you ride him in punishment- which wouldn’t be so bad, if sae would help you, touch you, acknowledge you, but his resistance to cumming can take hours; you’d almost think he’s not into it, if it weren’t for his tightening balls betraying him. he doesn’t even let you look at him, he’s so mean.

you say yes, you want sae, sae will put a cock cage on shidou to keep him from cumming without permission, fuck you at his own pace and his own leisure, and then free shidou into finishing inside of you, tearing up your raw pussy even more while he records it again, the whole time threatening to send it to everyone on his team to show them what a slut you are. he’s made good on his word before and showed them, leading to dozens of soccer players to slide into your dm’s and ask how easy it is to get you onto their cock.

you sniffle and blink a line of fresh tears out, only for sae to catch it with his thumb and bring it to his lips to savor the salty liquid. “well? what do you want, you insatiable girl? do you want me-“

“or me?” shidou hisses. you can see the grit of his teeth through the muzzle.

you gulp. your lips slowly part and you make fishlike mouth movements as you struggle to conjure words.

sae, unimpressed, grips your chubby cheeks in his thick fingers, smushing them close and pursing your lips out. “words. use them.”

“b-both…” you confess. “want both… please?”

you watch sae’s lips curl into a smile again, eyes blazing with excitement over your words. he looks at shidou, “well then. guess we’re going to have to ruin another little hole, aren’t we?” the phone gets guided down to his cock, as he grips it in his hands and starts to jerk himself off.

“you think you’re cummin’ anytime soon, you’re wrong, you little freak,” shidou assures, letting go of your hair and thrusting hard enough your arms give out and your chest lands heavy against the mattress. you whimper as your world spins, fingers fisting the comforter as a means to ground yourself. “not before me, you brat,” shidou grunts before slipping out of you. you cry out as he does, squirming and writhing at the feeling of being so empty. you collapse onto your side, feeling butterflies for the delicious torment you’re about to be subjected to. “i want that little squealy throat of hers. teach her a lesson from all that bitchin’ and whinin’.”

sae rolls you onto your back and gets between your legs, thumb lazily rolling over your clit before pulling the small bit of protective skin back and spitting a hot wad of spit onto your pulsing bud, all the while the flash of his camera fixates on your quivering pussy. you jerk from all the attention to your puffy, swollen gash, and he sneers.

“you can take her throat, shidou,” sae says coolly, as if you’re not splayed out on camera. “bring her to the edge of the bed so you don’t get in my way.

“because i want this cunt all to myself right now.”

[etheries1015]

(In Lilias dream) General Lilia X reader : Hidden pregnancy

General warnings: The reader mentioned being pregnant, but no pronouns are used. Situationship described, mention of heat...honestly, just a shitty scenario I half-baked when day-dreaming at work the other day. really self-indulgent and not my best work, but ima share it anyway. Cause'. I like the idea, even if I can't execute it very well. HAHAHA

"You" general Lilia pointed during the dream, startling you as you ate peacefully at the food you 'humans' had so kindly put together for the fae army. You looked up curiously and tilted your head, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of the beautiful man you had known to be important to you.

"You're pregnant. With a fae child, nonetheless." He said bluntly. The suddenness of his comment left your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you were immediately alarmed. With a loss of appetite and eyes wavering, you threw a panicked glance at Sebek and Silver; both who were staring at you with wide eyes and spoons halfway out their mouths.

You hadn't a clue that fae were able to tell such things. Questions swirled around your mind all at once: Did Lilia in reality realize this? or perhaps his magic and senses dwindled so much he hadn't taken much notice? What are you to say in response? However, there were more pressing issues to think of at the moment. And that was the way the two boys rushed to your side in shock, Silver grabbing your hands and looking you in the eyes earnestly.

"You...you're what..?" The silver-haired boy peered into your eyes with concern, "You're...pregnant? Is it...is it his?" You pursed your lips and held back tears that threatened to pour out of your melancholy orbs and your hands trembled with fear. You gave a nod in response. You could feel the gaze and judgment of the fae surrounding you, including Sebek, who knew well enough to hold his tongue at this moment where you seemed to be at the edge of a breakdown. Bauer, his grandfather, on the other hand, scoffed in almost disbelief at the mere notion a fae would copulate with a human. Such were the times in the dream that Lilia was having, however, you felt no true judgment wafting off of the long-haired general.

"Yeah. It's his. But...he wanted to leave and I ...need to go home. I can't.. I mean, I want to stay, with him, but I know that he is losing his magic and he wants to go to a faraway land, and I...I don't want to hold him back from doing what he wants. Besides, he believes he's too old to start parenting all over again, I just-"

You started going off on a nervous tangent, vomiting every word and excuse that came to your mind. Bauer made a snide and astonished comment about the situation, Sebek following suit not without a piercing glare from Lilia and a sneer of dissatisfaction. Uncertain how to proceed, Lilia moved past Silver and placed an uncertain and awkward hand on top of your head in an attempt to console you.

"Fae are eternally loyal to one mate. If your fae lover is noble and virtuous, he will not abandon you. Speak to him, perhaps there's a misunderstanding." You almost winced at the word "lover," for could you really classify your relationship with him as such? Of course, there were times of flirtiness, but you two felt comfortable in each other's presence (clearly). Yet...Lilia Vanrouge is a very mysterious man who worked in ways that will forever be unfathomable to you. He kept his relationships at arm's length, and you were not far behind. You just so happen to be there at the time of his heat, the instincts of two bodies craving affection indulging in primitive actions. So...what he felt about your...relationship...was beyond you.

General Lilia averted his rosey gaze from your own trembling orbs, your lips pursed and embarrassingly staring at the ground unable to make eye contact with the others.

He would have insisted you stay behind in your state, however felt compelled to bring you with him under the guise that he would better be able to keep a watchful eye on you in case this was some sort of ploy to induce some sort of surprise attack. However, it was obvious to any onlooker the way he tended to your needs, protect you from harms way, and at random inquired of your state. The rest of the army that followed him was in awe seeing their general practically 'dote' (for lack thereof better terms) on this random human who was impregnated, to their knowledge, by some other fae.

You wanted to hold on to the belief that he subconsciously knew the truth, even in this dream world, the Lilia you had come to love was attentively paying attention to your fragile state at all times.

And...somehow you knew that it would be alright.

[doodlingbiscuit]

Bite Me

Hey, first drabble I've finished! I have many more in the works, don't worry! :]

Rise!Donnie x Reader

Words: 3,760

Warnings: Biting, Slightly suggestive content, Mentions of blood Please let me know if I need to add more content warnings! I am still learning!

Donnie’s eyes trace over the curve of your shoulders, catching onto the slight muscle shifts as you reach up to put away the dishes. He can feel the need rising and tries to shove it down. He knows that it’s only a matter of time until he gives in to it. 

Donnie has never had a feeling like this before, being the least likely of the brothers to give in to his more yokai urges. Sure, hissing and growling came to him instinctually and was natural for him to do, but biting? He felt like that was something that he could not allow himself to give into. This was just another blaring reminder that although he walked and talked like one, he was not human. 

He almost considered locking himself up just in case these instincts delved into something deeper, he was quite familiar with the concept of other mutants becoming slave to their more animalistic side. But just before he definitively decided one way or the other, you had persuaded him to go out to a local cafe with him. He came out warily, expecting to want to bite every human he came across, but interestingly enough the instinct had dissipated entirely. He had celebrated internally, maybe just a bit of fresh air was what he needed to push the urges aside, he had been spending too much time in the sewers lately. Maybe it was just the sewer fumes finally getting to his head. 

Yet as soon as he caught a glimpse of you through the window, he could feel the urge to bite come back full force. His eyes slide over to another human, testing out the limits of what he was feeling. As soon as you’re out of his eyesight, the lessens but sure enough when he turns back to look at you, there it is again. 

Although he prefers to use his mouth as a metaphorical weapon, there were times that he had been desperate enough to use it in the literal sense. He had bitten and chewed his way out of many situations before, often getting out of them by quite literally the skin of his teeth. He had bitten to hurt; to wound, but the way he wanted to bite you was something else entirely. 

He had never wanted to bite someone so gently before.  

Donnie hadn’t told you about this urge of his, feeling too embarrassed to even bring it up. He didn’t even want you to know about it, hoping the feeling would pass without ever having to get you involved in it. This whole thing was so stupid, he was better than this. He had seen your shoulders before, it wasn’t like it was anything new, he had known you for years before ever getting into a relationship with you. But now every time he caught a glimpse of your shoulder, he oogled you like a middle school Victorian boy. This was surely just another instinct messing with his head and Donnie being Donnie could surely fight it off on his own. But after two weeks, it persisted. 

He was constantly chewing on the inside of his cheek nowadays, an old stim that had come back in full force these past few weeks. The mindless chewing satisfied him to a point but apparently, it wasn’t enough. 

You were both chilling on the couch watching some mindless video essay on the projector. The urge to bite was lessened when he held you like this but it still lingered in the back of his mind, and he was unconsciously chewing on the inside of his cheek to try to stave it off. You were cuddled perfectly into him and he was content to lay with you for hours. Glancing down to admire you in his arms, he goes still. Your jacket had slipped oh so very slightly down, revealing the entirety of your shoulder to him. 

In his realization of what he was looking at, the urge grew tenfold, and in his momentary loss of control, his teeth sliced clean through the inside of his cheek. He only realizes that he has bitten hard enough to draw blood when the metallic tang seeps into his mouth.

Immediately catching onto the way he had frozen underneath you, you turn to him slightly in curiosity. Not expecting his wide eyes to be staring back at you. 

“Are you… okay?” your eyes flick back and forth between his. 

Donnie just stares at you for a moment before shaking his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. He nods sharply once and moves to get up, softly shifting you off of him. 

You’re left to sit there in confusion, watching as he briskly walks to the bathroom. 

He shuts the door quietly behind him before quickly making his way over to the sink. Spitting into it, he watches the blood slowly trail down the side and into the drain. He drags a hand down his face and comes to the reality that biting his cheek wouldn’t work forever. 

This was not good. 

So Donnie tried to compensate in other ways. 

He tried buying chew toys, something that he knew had helped Raph before, keeping them hidden around the lair when he felt the urge to bite you. Donnie felt a little foolish ducking away from you and going to bite a chew toy instead, but… it was better than hurting you. 

You had caught onto his slipping away from you and he could see how it concerned you. Amazing, perfect you, had immediately thought that it was something that you had done. He was quick to shut down those thoughts, although he wasn’t entirely truthful as to why it wasn’t you. Unfortunately, his lack of an explanation still made you suspicious of him. He had the conversation with you almost two weeks ago now and you were still zeroed into every slight change in his demeanor. He was now more wary to sneak off in your presence. 

Which led him to this moment; chewing his cheek raw as he fiddled with scrubbing a particularly dirty plate. There was no way he could escape without immediately alerting you; doing the daily chore of washing dishes had become a way for you both to decompress after a long day and it had become a habit you both had come to enjoy. While he washed the dishes, you would dry them and put them together. Leaving now would surely make you think that something was wrong and that would start a conversation about Donnie’s behavior… and yeah, he didn’t want to get into all of that. 

Between keeping up a conversation with you and washing dishes, he can feel his control slipping away from him and chewing his cheek was, again, not helping. He stares into the soapy water, battling with himself before allowing himself a glance towards you. 

Across from him in the kitchen, you’re putting away a stack of glasses in the particularly high cabinet, one that you could only reach if you stood on your tippy toes. You take a glass from the stack and then place it up onto the shelf one by one. In the midst of your movement, there your jacket goes again, loosely hanging off of your shoulders. 

He bites down on his cheek a little harder, the pain from when he cut himself before breaking himself out of his reverie. Donnie sucks in a breath and forces his eyes away from you.

He’s only able to focus on the dishes again for mere moments before his eyes drag themselves back over to you. Before he realizes what he’s doing, his hands slip out of the gloves and he’s already halfway across the kitchen and out reaching toward you. 

Hands sliding across your waist, he pulls you slightly against him before leaning down into your space, his head hovering mere inches over your shoulder. 

Pausing to put away the dishes, you crook your head slightly to him. 

You say something to him in question, but his mind doesn’t register it, he’s too focused on your shoulder. 

Everything else fades to the background as he’s stuck in a stalemate between his mutant and logical mind. His mouth opens, blowing hot breath across your neck causing a shiver to travel up your back.

God, he can’t take this anymore. 

You’re saying something again, trying to catch his attention but he doesn’t hear it. You squirm slightly in his arms but Donnie only tightens them more. 

His eyes bore into your shoulder memorizing every slight muscle shift you make as he brings his mouth down closer. He opens his mouth wider, almost about to bite down-

“Donnie!” You say firmly, pushing against his embrace. 

You shrug him off easily, successfully breaking whatever hold his instincts had on him and turn to him exasperated. 

“What has gotten into you?”

Donnie stands there, at a loss for words. 

Which rarely happens to him, he often seems to have way too many.

He fumbles with his words, “I uh-.”

You stand there expectantly waiting for him to talk. 

Donnie’s mouth opens and closes like a fish before just stopping entirely. 

“We can’t just keep dancing around each other like this.” You huff out, “There is obviously something wrong with you and I think it’s reasonable enough to want to know why.” 

You cross your arms one over the other as you look at him, muscles shifting slightly beneath your skin.

Unfortunately, this means Donnie is distracted once more by you. 

Focus, Donnie.

They’re expecting an answer. 

Donnie’s mouth opens once again to respond. “I-”

“And don’t try to explain it away this time. You might be smarter than me, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb.” 

“I never said that.” He bristles at the implication. “You sure imply it when you won’t trust me with what you’re going through.” You bite out. 

His eyes drop down to your shoulder once more, before flicking back up to meet your gaze.

“I want to bite you.” He blurts out. 

You take an ever so slight step backwards from him and he feels his heart drop into his stomach. 

“You want to what?” 

It’s not entirely an accusatory statement and he’s sure that you’re only asking for clarification but he can only feel the dread of what he’s about to explain to you creeping up on him.  

“I want to… bite you,” he repeats.

It all suddenly seems so real when Donnie says it out loud and it leaves an uncomfortable feeling on his tongue. He wants desperately to be rid of it. 

“That’s why I’ve been acting all weird.” His face scrunches up in frustration with himself and he taps his palm against his forehead. 

“My mutant instincts are messing with my mind. You know when people get cuteness aggression; when they like something so much their brain doesn’t know what to do with itself and instead counteracts it with something negative. Well,” He swallows. “I think that’s what’s happening to me… with you.”

You both stand there for an agonizing couple of beats before the sentence fully registers in your mind. 

“Oh. Oh...” You huff out a laugh in relief. “That’s what all of this has been about? I was beginning to think that you didn’t like me anymore.”

“What? No! This is the turtle side of me saying I want to be near you… though not in the most productive way, I might add.” He murmurs the last part out. 

“Donnie, why wouldn’t I understand this part of you?” Stepping forward, you take his hands into yours, softly laughing. “I mean you already purr and hiss like a cat.”

Donnie takes a little offense at the comment, but it's hard to hide the smile creeping up from the corner of his lips. He’s just glad that you’re still joking with him. 

“It’s called ‘churring’, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, uh huh. You overgrown cat.” You smile playfully at him before turning a bit more serious. “When I got into this relationship, I wasn’t expecting you to be human, I don’t need you to be human. I need you to be Donnie.” 

He squeezes your hand and nods.

 “I know, I know.” He murmurs, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.  “But I am sorry for keeping it hidden from you, I’m just afraid of-”

“Hurting me?” You finish his sentence. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me on purpose.”

“I’ve tried to distract myself from it with other things but I have yet to try… giving in. It might go away if I can.” Donnie clears his throat before looking to the side, feeling a blush start to bloom on his cheeks. “If that is something you would be interested in.”

“I might” You smile playfully. “...How do you feel right now?”

Donnie thinks for a moment, the urge is still there but it’s lessened considerably.

“I think-” He swallows. “I think I’m okay for now.”

“Next time this urge happens, please let me know. I’m fine with it, but I just need a warning, you know?”

His instincts had given him a much-needed break for the rest of the day and he was able to act normal (well Donnie’s usual normal anyway) for the rest of the day. After finishing up the chores in the kitchen you both had gone through the motions of the day before finally settling into bed. Donnie’s body was curled around you as the big spoon and you both watched whatever videos that happened across your phone. Both of you had fallen into a sort of trance as you both watched the screen and Donnie could feel sleep beginning to tug at his eyelids. 

But of course, there was that feeling again. 

Donnie's head falls against your back in defeat as he can feel the urge to bite you rising again. He really didn’t want to ruin this moment with you, but you had said that you wanted him to be more honest with you… and that was something he could honor. 

Donnie props himself up onto one of his forearms and leans slightly over you so that he can see your face a bit more clearly. He murmurs your name softly and you murmur back in response. 

“Can I…?” He leaves the rest of the question in the air. 

You turn your head a bit more to look at him and set down your phone, the sleep in your gaze slowly wearing off as you recognize what he’s asking you. 

“O-oh. Yes, of course.” You adjust a little bit in his hold before asking hesitantly, “Do I need to do something?”

He slowly shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t think so. Just tell me as soon as I go too far.” He murmurs out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay.” You murmur back.

He wraps his arms around you once more, holding you loosely against him just in case you want to pull away before reaching up to slowly drag the fabric of your shirt away from your shoulder. Donnie breath blows across your shoulder again as he hesitates once more. 

“I’m serious. Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nod softly.

His tongue sweeps across his teeth as he makes a final nervous swallow before opening his mouth once more, going as slow as possible from him too, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. He needs to be careful with you, any fast movements from either of you and he could break skin. Although he wanted to bite, he didn’t want to cause you pain. Donnie’s mouth hovers for a few moments before finally settling it onto your shoulders. 

You involuntarily flinch when he bites down on you and Donnie immediately stops, pausing to see your reaction.  

“You’re okay, Donnie.” You breathe out, “Just… surprised me is all.”

He hesitantly continues, slowly but steadily increasing the pressure of the bite just up until the point where he is too afraid that he’ll break the skin. He holds the pressure there; just languishing in the moment. The instincts seem to have settled in his chest, satisfied and he pulls away. 

When he sees the bite mark, he can’t stop the involuntary churring reverberating from his chest, and dear god, was his tail wagging too? He didn’t churr often and when he did, it was-

Embarrassing…

You turn to him slightly with a smile creeping out of the side of your mouth. “Happy?”

He huffs through his nostrils and nudges his head against yours, feeling too embarrassed to admit that simply biting you could make him get like this. 

His snout nudges in between your neck and shoulder, planting a soft kiss there. 

You pat the arm that he has wrapped around you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

He peppers another kiss along your collarbone before maneuvering so that he hovers over you, now able to reach more of your neck. Donnie feels your heartbeat get faster through the kisses he leaves along your shoulder. 

One bite mark would deter off another Yokai, but it's less likely for them to see it if he only left one, it would be better if he left more. 

And you did say that it was okay for him to bite. 

He leaves one kiss along your neck, nipping slightly before pulling away, checking for discomfort. 

"Oh c’mon, Don.” You laugh slightly, allowing him to continue. “I'm not made of paper.” 

His churr deepens as he leaves bites along your collarbone and your shoulders. Your heartbeat picks up and your hearts beat in unison, tangling yourself into one. Donnie’s instincts demanded more and more of you only stopping when you let out a gasp. 

He pulls back, checking over your face for signs of pain. 

Your face is scrunched up slightly into a grimace. 

“Donnie, I’m okay.” You reassure him. 

He opens his mouth to respond and he notices the tang of blood in his mouth. 

Not his blood, yours.

His eyes flash down to your shoulder again, seeing red just beginning to bloom on your shoulder. The churring in his chest peters out as he feels his stomach drop. 

There it was, blaring proof that he went too far. 

“I knew this was a bad idea.” He murmurs to himself. 

He can fix this, he can fix this. 

He clambers out of the bed and starts to leave to get supplies. 

Sitting up in bed, you reach out to stop him but you’re unable to. 

“Donnie-” You start to get up to follow but he gently stops you from getting up. 

“Stay.” He says firmly. 

Sitting back down, you instead watch Donnie leave, making his way out of the bedroom before coming back with a first aid kit and ice pack in hand. He quickly makes his way over to you again, laying out the first aid kit before picking out an antiseptic wipe. 

“Donnie, I’ll be fine you didn’t even bite that hard…” Your words trail off as you watch his expression change into one where you know he’s made up his mind. 

He pulls the collar of your shirt down so he can look at it a bit closer. He feels a sort of pride as he looks at the mark, one that immediately sours.  

“You are never going to let me do this again.” He says firmly, taking the wipe out of the package. “I don’t care how much my instincts tell me to.” 

He presses it into your shoulder and you flinch a bit at the sting of it. 

There are so many bite marks… all of these will surely bruise. 

He busies himself as he cleans up the various marks on you, everything else fading into the background. 

“Donatello.” 

He pauses, he hasn’t heard you say his actual name in a while. 

You lift a hand to his face, softly guiding him to look at you. 

"Accidents happen. I knew it might hurt… you knew it might hurt. We went through with it anyway.” You drag a thumb across his cheek before letting your hand fall to your side. “I don't regret letting you bite me.”

Donnie opens his mouth to protest but you give him a look that makes him shut it once more. 

“If this is something your instincts are telling you to do, then there must be some reason behind it all. Just ignoring it obviously didn’t help last time and it won’t help in the future. If I have to get some love bites from you once in a while, I think I’m okay with that.” You say gently, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and even if you do, I trust you.” 

Of course, you had to pull out the genuine love and affection, you knew exactly how fast that it takes him to crumble under that kind of pressure. 

 Donnie sighs, “God, I love you so much.”

He pulls you to him, leaning his forehead against yours. 

You laugh softly, “I love you too.”

Donnie maneuvers the both of you so that you’re sitting in his lap, the deep churring starting up again, although lessened from before. You sink into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of the reverberations traveling up through his plastron and onto your back. 

Donnie continues to patch you up, going into medic mode so you both sit there in silence enjoying each other’s company. Once finished with cleaning up the bite mark, he places a soft kiss on it and you let out a soft hum. 

He warns you before he carefully places an ice pack onto your shoulder, while his other hand traces circles across your other forearm.

Leaning your head back so that it's propped up on his shoulder, you smile up at him. 

Donnie is so focused on holding the ice pack to your bite that his eyes only just flicker over to yours before going back to what he was doing. His brows scrunch together as he slowly peels back the ice pack to check for bruising. 

“If biting makes you all lovey-dovey, I don’t think I mind it.” 

He lets out a huff of breath, that directly counteracts the churring’s volume that heightens considerably. 

He wasn’t going to admit it, but he didn’t mind it either.

“Donnie?” 

He responds with a simple hum. 

“Does this mean I get to bite you?”

[suzukiblu]

welp I remain INCREDIBLY weak to positive reinforcement, haha, so day two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim takes the obvious opportunity that Bernard chattering and Kon being a little bit dumbstruck gives him–because like, of fucking course he does, he’s a Bat–and offers Kon the caramel-dipped waffle quarter again, and Kon, like . . . okay, well fucking obviously he’s gonna eat it, Bernard made the damn caramel from scratch and Tim is offering it to him. Like, there is not a world in which he does not eat that. 

He takes a bite, mostly distracted by what Bernard’s going on about with whipped cream and hand mixers and whatever and idly having some related kinky thoughts because, like, in his defense, whipped cream, and then forgets completely about what Bernard’s going on about with . . . whatever Bernard’s going on about. 

“Oh my god what did you put in this,” Kon blurts, half-covering his mouth with a hand before he accidentally spits out any waffle crumbs and staring at Bernard for a moment. Like, the waffle is warm and basically the perfect mix between outside crunch and inside fluff, but also it tastes like–what the fuck is in this, seriously, is there sex pollen in this or something? 

“Oh, it’s actually basically my banana bread recipe, so . . . banana? Like a significant amount of banana, and then some sour cream, and a little cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla,” Bernard ticks off, gesturing with a waffle chunk of his own before spooning some whipped cream onto it, because Bernard apparently just made . . . everything on this breakfast tray from scratch, okay. Like . . . yeah. Okay then. “And also there’s some chocolate chips and chopped pecans in there, because like, literally what is not better with chocolate, seriously. Admittedly I don’t actually know how good it is with peaches, haven’t tried that one before, but I figure at least the caramel should be good.” 

Kon stares blankly at the dude and resists the instinctive marriage proposal currently warring with his natural “kept boy” instincts, then takes another bite of waffle when Tim offers it. It keeps tasting, like, fucking delicious, and also now he can break down “fucking delicious” in a little bit more detail than, like . . . just “fucking delicious”, basically. 

. . . will Ma kill him if he asks another cook for their waffle recipe? Is that a thing he might have to worry about? 

. . . . . . could be worth it, honestly. And she might let him live if he shares. 

“Do you, like, cook a lot, or . . . ?” he asks, half-trailing off when Tim feeds him more fucking deliciousness, which is in his defense pretty distracting. Like–Jesus, how did Bernard get an alleged banana bread recipe to make waffles this fluffy? Like, what fucking witchcraft was involved in that one? 

“Constantly and all the time and nowhere near as much as I wanna, so honestly the excuse to make an extra sauce was kinda nice, not gonna lie, it’s very relaxing,” Bernard replies frankly, stacking up some banana slices on his waffle chunk and then making himself a little waffle sandwich to stuff into his mouth effectively whole. The little waffle sandwich is weirdly adorable. Like, to the degree Kon would probably find it adorable even if he weren’t high on pink kryptonite right now, but like, maybe that’s the banana bread waffles’ fault. “Well, actually caramel is low-key the devil because you cannot ever take your eyes off it ever without it burning to shit and ruining your godsdamn pot, but it’s not like I didn’t have time to baby it so it’s whatever. Why, do you cook?” 

“Um . . . naw, just I help, um . . . well, there’s, like–I help bake, a little?” Kon replies hesitantly. Which, like, is mostly just him fetching shit and kneading stuff for Ma so her arthritis doesn’t act up as a dumb little excuse to, like, hang around the kitchen and living room area when she and Pa are talking, sometimes, but . . . technically it counts, he guesses? Like, technically? 

Bernard perks up, like–instantly, and to a really surprising amount, which is a little weird, and Kon isn’t sure what that’s about. 

“Oh, so the most evil culinary art then, wow,” Bernard says, sounding impressed. Which is definitely not what he is actually is, unless Kon has somehow given him a very incorrect impression of his baking skills, but still feels a little flustering to hear in relation to, like, something besides being good in bed. Like, just given the nature of this particular long weekend and all. 

“Uh–what?” Kon asks, trying to figure out what Bernard’s actually talking about here, and Bernard starts making himself another little banana/whipped cream waffle sandwich with an easy little shrug. 

“You know, like how the first rule of cooking is have fun and be yourself and the first rule of baking is stay calm because the dough can smell fear, is what I mean,” he replies reasonably. 

“I mean it’s not that hard, honestly, I can kinda like, just feel when it’s baked enough without having to check, so . . .” Kon shrugs himself, feeling a little awkward about it. Like–it’s kinda cheaty, honestly. “Or like, proofed or whatever.” 

“I hate you, come work at the restaurant I’m gonna open when I’m thirty-two, you can make all our bread in-house,” Bernard says very feelingly, and Kon forgets the awkward feeling to start snickering, because this dude is ridiculous, and still funny as fuck on top of that. 

“I literally just help out, man,” he says. “I am at best the actual baker’s errand boy.” 

“You just told me you can feel when the bread’s risen enough, you bastard, I am gonna press-gang you into this restaurant if I have to,” Bernard retorts huffily, then pauses, looks speculative, and asks: “Does that work on souffle, actually?” 

“I mean, I guess it would?” Kon replies with a frown, tilting his head a little. “Never tried, but–” 

“Hey Tim, I’m press-ganging your boy onto the line, good news, you won’t have to deal with me ranting about how much I hate my pastry chef every morning over coffee when we’re thirty-two,” Bernard informs Tim casually, and Tim’s mouth quirks in amusement and Kon just laughs helplessly again. 

“Oh my god, Bernard, I am the last person you wanna get to make pastry, much less restaurant pastry,” he says, still laughing. 

“I don’t know, your presentation skills would be pretty good, I’d think,” Tim says reasonably, which totally derails Kon’s cracking up. “You’re pretty artistic when you want to be. And definitely creative, and good with your hands on top of that.” 

Kon feels briefly startled–like, startled enough to not even make a sex joke about the “good with your hands” comment–because he like . . . basically never does anything that’d really count as “artistic”, as far as he’s concerned, and he’s really only “creative” in terms of coming up with creative new ways to curbstomp bad guys or whatever, not . . . 

He bites the rest of the waffle quarter out of Tim’s hand, mostly to give himself a second to process all the weird things he’s feeling about Tim saying something like that, and then has some more weird feelings when Tim swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth to get up a smudge of caramel and then taps it lightly against Kon’s mouth to like . . . invite or offer, maybe, Kon’s not sure which. 

Though like, obviously he licks it clean either way. 

“Ohhhhh, hey, so how delicate does the TTK get?” Bernard asks, his eyes gleaming. 

“Uh–I mean, borderline atomic-level, depending?” Kon replies, a little bewildered still. “But like, that’s kinda an adrenaline-fueled apocalyptic sitch kinda thing, so mostly just . . . I dunno, tweezers? Mini-screwdriver? Somewhere in there?” 

“Okay, so when every single fine dining establishment in Gotham tries to poach you from me, I need you to remember how much you liked my dick when you were gay and pay that favor back by not accepting their disgusting amounts of money and prestige,” Bernard says, and Kon can’t help laughing again, or feeling, like–kind of warm, again. Like, kind of in the horny way, but also kinda . . . not, maybe. 

Seriously, it’s so weird how much hanging out with Bernard feels like getting a crush on a girl he’s just met. Like–very, very much so. Increasingly so, at this point. 

“I dunno, man, unless your fine dining establishment has a pink K chandelier . . .” he counters teasingly, and Bernard looks straight-up delighted by that idea. 

“Ooo, I bet that lighting would be sick, very romantic ambiance for the customer base,” he says with a grin. “What do you think, I could do my supervillain career in Metropolis and then retire to Gotham with all my ill-gotten gains and invest in a chandelier or twelve. You totally wanna get fucked after-hours on my prep counter under flattering rosy lighting, right?” 

“Come on, man, I look good in any lighting,” Kon scoffs, making a show of preening. “Or on any counter, as a matter of fact.” 

“Valid,” Bernard agrees with a sage nod, and Kon feels an irrational level of heat in his face but grins at him again anyway. Like–whatever, it’s the kryptonite; doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the ride. 

“Yeah, I’m sure the health department would love that, you two,” Tim says wryly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement. 

“Oh my god, Tim, like we wouldn’t clean up after,” Bernard huffs, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Like I don’t know basic food safety standards. But fiiiiine, I’ll put in a special counter just for fucking your boy on when I’m doing the initial remodel, would that make you feel better?” 

“You designing your future professional kitchen with a specific place reserved to have sex with my best friend in it?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly with a briefly speculative expression. 

“Yes, obviously,” Bernard says. 

“If you made sure the security cameras’d have a good view, I guess,” Tim allows. 

“Why would I need to, look at him, the cameras will be magnetically attracted to him,” Bernard scoffs, and Kon feels sort of–flustered, maybe, and flushed, and kinda–flattered, almost? Just . . . something about that particular sex fantasy is . . . 

Like, it’s just–it's still just a jokey fantasy, yeah, but it's one that sounds like, like . . . like an actual plan would, almost. Like, obviously still just a joke, but . . . he doesn’t know, just a more flattering joke, somehow. Kinda. Also, if he’s really thinking about it . . . well, obviously there’s sex in it, but it’s really less a sex fantasy than it is just, like . . . 

Well. Just . . . a fantasy, he guesses. Like . . . like they’ll all just still know each other in their thirties and know each other well enough to wanna hang out that much and . . . 

Just–yeah. So it’s a little more flattering, kinda. Like, as a fantasy and all. 

It is also making it real fuckin’ hard to concentrate on breakfast, under the circumstances. 

Tim offers him another slice of peach, and Kon bites his lip and glances up at his face again. 

“Rob, man, yours is gonna get cold,” he points out. 

“Really not worried about it,” Tim says, which is sort of hard to argue with, but like . . . 

“But–” Kon starts reflexively, and Tim taps the peach slice against his lower lip. 

“Eat your breakfast like a good boy, and I'll give you something good while I eat mine,” he says, and Kon’s brain fritzes out completely and his gut goes absolutely molten. “Open up.” 

Kon doesn’t even take a moment to actually say anything or even nod, just immediately opens his mouth. 

Tim smiles down at him soft enough to really fry his brain and sets the peach slice on his tongue. There’s some caramel sauce on it, and Kon flashes back to Tim doing the same thing to him with the candy with his own damn come on it and kind of, like, spontaneously combusts or explodes into a supernova or just melts down into caramel himself. 

Tim taps his mouth shut with two fingers under his jaw, and Kon just about fucking swoons over it. 

So–yeah, he is definitely not gonna be arguing about the temperature of anybody’s breakfast right now.

[corroded-hellfire]

I’m sorry for getting distracted like ten times before sending this but tbh it’s kinda your fault <3

Imagine you’re sitting in the backyard with Eddie while watching the kids run around and Eddie starts talking about how happy and thankful he is for the life he has now. He gets emotional with you and even starts to cry and I just wanna see him cry happy tears. LET MY BOY BE HAPPY.

Your wish is my and @munson-blurbs’s command our darling wife 💚

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Autumn in Hawkins is…well, like any other time in Hawkins, but with a crisp bite in the air. The leaves that budded in the spring and held a lively green in the summer are now beginning to turn brown, curling in on themselves as they fall off of the trees. The sun dips behind the clouds earlier and earlier, bringing many of the town’s residents inside their homes for the night. 

But not your family. 

You and Eddie sit side by side on the porch swing, watching your kids run around the backyard. All three of them—four, if you count Luke’s dog—are playing a rousing game of tag. Ryan and Luke have teamed up against Eliza and Patch. It isn’t much of a fair fight, considering your daughter is only three years old and the dog doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, but no one is complaining. 

Eddie’s hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is pure chaos,” he whispers in your ear. 

“Insanity,” you agree. Eliza shrieks giddily as Ryan picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. There was a time where you could carry Ryan; now, he’s sixteen-years-old and turning into a young man. It was as though the years had slipped through your fingers without you realizing. “What were we thinking, adding another one into this mix?”

Instinctively, Eddie splays his palm over your stomach. You’re only a month along and aren’t close to showing yet, but he still feels that protectiveness over you. 

“Four kids and a dog,” he muses, shaking his head. “This is your fault, y’know?”

“My fault?”

Eddie nods, a serious look on his face. “Oh, yes. It was two against two when we just had the boys. But then you had to be so damn perfect, and so I had to give you a baby.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“And what about this one?” You glance at where his hand rests. “Is that my fault, too?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie grins. “I mean, you looked so beautiful pregnant with Eliza. How could I possibly let that be a one-time thing?”

You’re about to protest that it was actually a nine-month thing, but you’re interrupted by Patch barking excitedly. 

The brown and white puppy runs as fast as his little legs will take him, doing laps around the three kids. He seems content when Eliza is put back down on the ground, and he can go over and check on her.

“I’m okay!” Eliza comforts with a breathless laugh. 

She pets Patch on the head as he sniffs all over her small legs and feet. Luke snatches his little sister, and though he doesn’t pick her up off the ground, he holds her prisoner against his chest.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Patch?” he teases. “Remember, I’m the one who feeds you!”

Eliza squeals and wriggles against the fourteen-year-old’s chest. Ryan decides to take the attention off both of his siblings and plop down on the grass right next to Patch.

The plan works perfectly as the Australian Shepherd and Labrador mix abandons both younger Munsons and climbs onto Ryan’s chest.

Eddie chuckles from next to you. When you turn to look at him, an infectious grin has you joining in his laughter.

“We’re raising some great kids, huh?” he muses, still watching them.

“Let’s hope this next one turns out just as amazing,” you say, squeezing your hand over Eddie’s where it’s perched on your stomach. 

He turns his hand around to lace his fingers with yours before bringing your hand up to his mouth. His soft, yet slightly chapped lips press kisses from your knuckles all the way to the inside of your wrist. The two of you may have been together for over six years now, but the display of affection still makes you dizzy with giddiness. 

“I keep wondering about how they’re going to react,” Eddie says, nodding towards your children out on the lawn. “I think I’ve imagined them responding in every possible way.”

“Can I be the one to say it to them?” you ask. It feels a little silly, but the idea of getting to say the words “you’re going to have a baby brother or sister” to them fills you with glee.

“Of course, princess.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two of you watch Eliza demonstrate to Patch how to roll over. Luke pretends to give his little sister a treat from his pocket and the girl playfully growls at him.

“Do you think Luke will wanna name this new baby?” you ask Eddie as his thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand.

“God, I hope not,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. “He’s been obsessed with WWE lately. We’ll have to name it John Cena.”

You giggle and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Man, this pregnancy was already hitting you with the exhaustion. 

“Well, Eliza would probably pick Hercules or Megara,” you point out. “Not much better.”

Eddie leans in and kisses your forehead. “Maybe we have to institute a ‘no wrestlers and no cartoon characters’ rule this time.”

“But then Eliza wouldn’t be Eliza,” you point out. It was Ryan who had chosen the name while watching The Wild Thornberries. “So, we might have to make an exception if needed.”

“Fair enough.” 

Before you can set any more ground rules, Luke calls out from the grass:

“Attention, lady and gentledad! The Amazing Eliza and her fearless pup, Patch, would like to perform their death-defying spectacular!”

You sit up a bit, watching as Eliza crouches on her hands and knees. Luke fishes a slice of bologna out of his pants pocket—you’re not sure how long it’s been in there, and you’re not sure you want to—and stands on one side of his sister. 

On her other side, Ryan holds Patch in his arms, the Aussiedor wriggling in anticipation of his snack. 

“And now,” Luke bellows, “we will release the beast!”

With that, your oldest son places Patch on the grass. Before all paws even touch down, the dog bolts towards Luke, leaping over Eliza with surprising grace. 

Eliza jumps up, excitement written all over her cherubic face. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see that? Did you see me and Patch?”

“We sure did, sweet pea.” You look over at Eddie to gauge his reaction, only to see that his eyes are glassy. The kids are already plotting Patch’s next trick when you ask your husband what’s wrong. 

Eddie shakes his head, swiping at a tear that managed to escape. “I was just thinking about how much they smile,” he says softly. “Especially the boys. It wasn’t always this way.”

You lace your fingers with his. “I know.” You remember the early days of babysitting Ryan and Luke. They walked on eggshells around Brittany, always prepared to be dismissed or outright rejected. Each “I’m too busy to play with you,” extinguished a little more light in their eyes. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most of all for bringing joy back into our lives again. For reminding us how a family should be.”

Another tear rolls down his cheek as he takes in the unconditional love that surrounds him. You reach over with your free hand and wipe the tear away with your thumb. 

“Every smile and little giggle from those boys has brought me so much joy ever since I met them. Seeing their general happiness grow over these last ten years has been a highlight of my life.”

You bring Eddie’s hand up and press a few soft kisses against the back of it. 

“And now there’s another infectious laughter added to the mix,” Eddie says with a teary chuckle as Eliza’s wild giggle floats over to you on a crisp breeze. 

“And another one soon, I’m sure,” you say, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “I can’t picture this kid having less than an enchanting laugh.”

Eddie sniffles and nods his head. “We’re all so lucky to have you here. The best mom and the best wife.”

“Not to mention that loving and attentive father our lucky babies have. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how happy you make all of us,” you tell him. 

He tries to shrug it off, but you’re persistent. 

“It’s true! Every laugh and smile I saw from the boys in the early days was because of you. You’re the reason they had light in their lives those grade school years. And you’re the reason Eliza is as stubborn as a mule, but still the greatest kid who is full of love and laughter. And then there’s me.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “I’ve never felt so safe before. So safe and loved. And I get to goof off and laugh everyday with my best friend. Cause I’m lucky enough that I got to marry my best friend.”

Eddie’s tears are coming in harder now. It brings a smile to your face, though, to know he realizes just how loved every single person in this family is. That the love only grows stronger every day and soon there will be a new little person to give and receive even more love in the Munson house. 

Your husband clears his throat and rubs over his eyes with the sleeve of his black zip-up hoodie. 

“Dad?” you hear Luke say, approaching closer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures him as he tries to make sure any trace of tears is gone. “I’m okay.”

“Then why were you crying?” Eliza gasps out as she runs over to the two of you. 

“Just happy,” Eddie responds, picking the three-year-old up and setting her in his lap. “I’ve got the greatest wife and kids in the world.”

“And dog,” Luke adds as Patch trots his way over. “Patch is the best.”

“And Patch,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 

The puppy puts his front two paws on the porch swing next to you and you take the hint. You bend over and pick up the precocious canine, who happily makes himself comfortable in your lap. 

Ryan comes over and sprawls out on the grass at the edge of the stone patio. He stares up at the rest of you and lets out a content sigh. 

“Dad’s a big old softy,” the sixteen-year-old quips. 

Eliza climbs up on the porch swing and Eddie has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as the seat bucks from her movements. 

“Daddy is not soft,” Eliza states as she pokes her father’s bony shoulder. She then rubs her hand over his stubble as if to further prove her point. “Hard and scratchy.”

“What about big and old?” Luke asks, doing his best to keep a smile at bay. 

“Everyone is big compared to Liza Bean!” you butt in, reaching over with one hand to poke her belly. “She’s so teeny tiny!”

Eliza nods once in agreement. 

“Right, Mama! And, yeah, Daddy is old.”

You, Luke, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at her casual words. Eddie’s jaw drops open, and he looks at all of his family members with an affronted face. 

“I am only 41!” Your husband defends. 

“Old,” Eliza reiterates. 

Eddie grabs Eliza and clutches him close to her chest.

“Listen here, little missy!” His fingers dig into Eliza’s sides, making her squeal out in laughter. “I’m young enough to beat you up!”

“I don’t know if anyone can win against Eliza…” Ryan mutters.

“No!” Eliza shouts through her laughter. “I younger! I stronger!”

Eddie ceases his tickling and holds the three-year-old tight against his chest. 

“You can never escape.”

“Bite him!” Luke suggests.

“I’ll bite back,” Eddie says. “And my teeth are bigger.”

“Don’t want to damage your dentures,” Ryan says, a smirk dancing on his face.

You and Luke can’t help but laugh, but Eddie only narrows his eyes as his oldest son and leans into whisper something in Eliza’s ear. Your daughter’s face breaks out into a grin, and she nods her head enthusiastically. 

Eddie lets her down and takes a wide berth walking around her brothers. Neither of them takes their eyes off her small figure as Patch jumps down from your lap and follows the girl. While Eliza distracts them with the direction she’s walking, Eddie silently slips off the swing and is able to pounce on Ryan.

“Hey!” Ryan calls through laughter.

Despite how hard your eldest son tries to get free, Eddie is able to hold Ryan’s arms behind his back. With him subdued, Eliza launches herself at him, quickly glomming onto her biggest brother’s torso. 

“We got you!” Eliza calls. 

Ryan manages to get all three of them laying down on the grass, all squirming around like exposed worms looking for shelter. 

Luke simply shakes his head as he sits next to you on the porch swing. 

“Such children,” Luke admonishes. 

He uses his heels against the patio to gently push the swing back and forth as the two of you watch the other three squabble. 

“Us mature ones would never act this way,” Luke says to you.

“Never,” you agree with a chuckle.

You have no doubt something diabolical is spurning in the fourteen-year-old’s head, but you know that nothing you do or say will be able to stop it. Instead, you just lay your head down on top of Luke’s as you watch Eddie and Eliza try to keep Ryan down on the grass. 

“Mature,” you repeat to yourself. “That’s definitely us.”

[hyuckiefluff]

Pretty Boy

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers wc : 1.2k + summary: you are determined to convince your roommate to let you put mascara on his pretty eyelashes but things escalate when playful touches become more intimate. a/n: this is a short story that i wrote in like an hour sorry if it’s kind of all over the place lol. it has an open ending so possible part 2 if it doesn’t flop?? tysm for reading &lt;33

part 2

"Jaemin, come here!!" you followed him out of the room as he escaped.

"Nope! Not a chance!" Jaemin retorted.

"C'mon, you're being so dramatic,"

"I'm not the one trying to poke your eyeballs with a strange object," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he walked away, keeping a safe distance from you.

"Please, it's just mascara. I'm trying to see how it looks on you," you said, practically sprinting after him across the shared department.

"When I agreed to room with you, I didn't know I was signing up to become your little experiment," he grumbled, effortlessly leaping over the couch and assuming a defensive stance. "Why do you even want to put mascara on me?"

"Like I said, you're being dramatic. And you have the prettiest eyelashes I've ever seen, so I must see what they look like all done,"

He rolled his eyes, having had this conversation with you before. You had always pointed out the unfairness of him having such long lashes but never doing anything to them.

"I'm not letting you come close to my eyes with that thing," he firmly stated, causing you to let out a sigh of frustration.

“Wait, what’s that behind you?” While you didn't expect him to actually fall for it, he momentarily looked over his shoulder, and in that split second, you swiftly jumped over the couch, landing right on top of him with a victorious war cry.

"C'mooon," he protested, but his hands instinctively found their place on your hips, keeping you in place.

"I'm just going to apply a little bit," you said innocently, moving closer to his face. He remained silent, which caught you off guard, considering how vehemently he had opposed the idea just moments ago.

His gaze was fixed on you, and you took it as an opportunity to concentrate on your task. You were so focused on not accidentally poking his eyes that you failed to notice what his hands were doing. He started slowly caressing your hips, it seemed like he was doing it unconsciously at first but then he started gently pinching and groping and it was getting harder for you to keep your hand steady.

"Does it usually take you this long to do this?" he asked, looking upwards as you worked the mascara brush on his lashes.

"Well, excuse me, but you're distracting me," you responded, pausing for a moment to give him an accusing look. When he met your gaze, you almost dropped the brush because of how absurdly beautiful he looked. His eyes appeared larger, framed by the now even longer and darker lashes. Despite his frown and occasional uncomfortable blinking, he looked mesmerizing.

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the smile threatening to escape. However, he caught your gesture and gently took your hand, placing a kiss on it. "What are you smiling at? Do I look that ridiculous?" he asked, his voice lowering in tone.

"No," you replied, your voice slightly faltering. "You look good." If he hadn't already sensed your flustered state from the way your voice trembled, he certainly did when you flinched in response to his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you down closer to him.

"Really? Show me then," he said, his gaze fixed on you. For a moment, you were confused, dazed by the way he was looking at you. Then it clicked, and you understood what he meant. Without hesitation, you pulled out your phone to take a picture of him.

As you captured the shot, you couldn't help but bite your lip at how intimate it looked. He was looking up at you through his eyelashes, a slight smile playing on his lips. The image clearly showed the fact that you were straddling him, his hands resting on your thighs. You knew you'd have to delete this picture after showing him because your best friends were notoriously nosy, and the last thing you wanted was for them to stumble upon a photo of you practically riding your roommate.

"Are you gonna show me or..." his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cleared your throat, handing him the phone. You would have gotten off his lap by now if it weren't for his hand still holding you firmly in place.

"Mhmm..." he hummed approvingly as he looked at the picture. "I like it. I'm sending it to myself."

"What? No, no," you panicked, attempting to grab your phone, but he held it out of reach, lifting it over his head. Retrieving it would mean getting even closer to him. Instead, you gave him a death stare and an expression that clearly said, 'Seriously dude?'

"If you like it so much, I can just take another one of just you," you pleaded.

"But I like this one because you're in it too," he responded, raising an eyebrow.

Your stomach dropped, and before you could form a coherent response, Jaemin propped himself up on his elbows, your phone abandoned somewhere behind him. His face was now incredibly close to yours, his minty breath filling the space between you. You couldn't move away, and if you're honest with yourself, you wouldn't even if you could. After two years of being roommates with Jaemin, you had grown used to him being clingy and affectionate, and while you had found yourself on his lap on previous occasions, it had never escalated to this level of intensity.

Unconsciously, you bit your lip, a nervous habit of yours, catching Jaemin's attention. He lifted his hand and gently caressed your bottom lip with his thumb, causing you to cease the biting. Now his focus was entirely on your lips, and perhaps it was your imagination, but he seemed to be getting closer. "Don't bite these pretty lips; you'll roughen them up," he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Sorry..." you murmured instinctively, your voice sounding small and vulnerable. It was a clear indication that he was flustering you.

There were so many alarms going off in your head, warning you of the dangerous territory you were about to venture into. If you were smart, you would heed those warnings and run away.

"Okay, well, I'm done here, so..." you began to say, your voice trailing off.

"Are you? But there's a space here that needs taking care of," he pointed towards his eye, and as you leaned closer, you struggled to see anything out of the ordinary.

"What? Whe-" Your words were abruptly swallowed by his lips as they pressed against yours, catching you completely off guard. A whimper escaped your lips, met with a low grunt from him, as he skillfully moved his lips against yours. His hands found their way up from your hips to your waist, exploring the exposed skin revealed by your riding-up shirt. The kiss started off gentle but quickly escalated, his lips and hands working their way up your body. It was you who deepened the kiss, prodding him with your tongue, silently asking for entry. He sighed contently, granting you access, and the kiss grew wetter and more intense as your tongues danced together. His hips began to buck up, creating a delicious friction between your cores, eliciting moans from both of you.

There was no turning back now. You were well aware of it, and Jaemin seemed to understand too, as he pulled away from the kiss, suggesting, "Maybe we should move to the bed."

The implications made your lower stomach churn with a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you nodded, a smile playing on your lips.

"Let's go, pretty boy," you said teasingly, before darting away, Jaemin hot on your heels, eagerly chasing after you.

part 2

feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

[waleriqww]

GRINDHOUSE

Part 1 Part 2

The memory of the two of you meeting when Jong Gun was in prison

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, I suggest you get in line. Hey Bobby, spit that candy out right now!” As you quietly walk beside the guard on your left, you make sure not to make eye contact with anything or anyone around you. You’ve already passed the third cell, and this godforsaken place reeks. Ignoring the stench that tickles your stomach is exhausting, and you’re close to cursing your profession as the bile threatens to rise. You keep swallowing frequently to stop yourself from vomiting in front of the guard beside you. It’s been more than two and a half years since you’ve seen a real mental hospital. During this time, you’ve been working in a clinic that barely qualifies as one it’s basically a cramped room. But even that hopeless, lightless space was a million times more bearable than this disgusting-smelling place. At least it gets aired out half an hour before appointments.

“It’s really good that you came, Doctor. Director Choi hasn’t slept in two days Hey, for God’s sake, put your underwear back on, Aldo!”

When the guard suddenly turns around and yells, you pretend not to notice the tall, burly man walking unsteadily down the hall, completely naked from the waist down.

“Sorry, what was I saying? Oh, right! Mr. Choi… This whole thing must’ve shaken him. He hasn’t slept in about two days. Neither have Sister Lee and the Chaplain. They think the boy is possessed by a demon. I’m not a religious person, but I’ve been praying for days. May the gods help us.” As you’re distracted by the man clawing at a wooden table with his nails, your attention shifts from the guard talking beside you. Your eyes involuntarily lock onto the man. His nails scrape the wooden surface with a grating sound, and blood drips from his nail beds down to his fingertips. But he doesn’t seem to feel the pain. He’s muttering to himself, shaking his head as if he forgets what he’s saying, then leaning harder onto the table and scratching more violently. Instinctively, your steps lead you to his table to stop him.

“Ms. Y/N, this way, please.”

The guard’s firm voice makes you pause. Your gaze shifts to him. The stern look on his face, his furrowed brows, is a clear warning: do not interfere. This is the kind of place where you can’t touch even a regular patient without permission. With that awareness, your eyes linger on the man once more. You sigh and return to the guard waiting a few steps away. You can’t even remember the last time you saw a real mental hospital. Let’s be honest you’ve never even treated a real psychiatric patient in your life. You’re a marriage and family therapist. Even your training was molded by a system too comfortable to care about actual patients. This job isn’t for you. And God knows, even you have no idea what the hell you’re doing here.

At the end of the cells, a wave of cold air hits your skin, making you shiver. This corridor doesn’t reek like the last one, which is good. The man next to you is saying something, but your mind is elsewhere. Report structure, next appointment… If you can get out of here without catching hepatitis, you should compile your report and set a time. But the first real thought that crosses your mind? Finding the friend who referred you to this hospital and murdering them.

“Director Choi is waiting inside, Ms. Y/N. Please, this way.”

You exchange a brief glance with the door ahead. Following the guard’s direction, you knock. You wait for a response, but the command you expect comes late. You turn to the guard, but he has already turned around and headed back toward the cells. Just as you open your mouth to call after him, a short “enter” comes from inside. You slowly open the door and slip inside. As your profession demands, you should appear confident—but your shoulders are already slumped. The room is stifling. Clearly a place that hasn’t seen sunlight in a long time. When you make eye contact with the man dozing with his head in his hands, you bow in greeting. He straightens immediately, adjusts his posture.

“Hello, sir. I’m Y/N. I was referred here,” you say.

His expression changes, and he smiles with satisfaction, reaching out with both hands to shake yours.

“Hello, Ms. Y/N. I’ve been expecting you. Please, have a seat.”

You sit where he gestures and observe the man standing. He’s tall, thin—maybe in his early fifties. He’s wearing a white shirt and classic dress pants that end at the ankles. He apologizes for a quick phone call, then asks for two coffees. He even pulls the phone away to ask how you take yours.

“I’m grateful you came, Ms. Y/N,” he says as he ends the call. “Believe me, thousands of patients have passed through these cells, but this… This is the first time I’ve seen anything like this.”

He rolls up his shirt sleeves to the wrists. You meet his eyes. With a tense smile, he pulls a file from the drawer. His voice, like his gestures, is tight. He takes a shaky breath and continues speaking.

“Three different specialists came. All three fled that room in a panic. This… how should I put it…”

He pauses for a moment.

“I haven’t used this word in years, but this is a terrifying case. You’re the best in your field—I’m not afraid to say it, Ms. Y/N. I haven’t slept in two days. I don’t know what it’s called in your profession, but I can say I was psychologically harassed. If I didn’t know he wasn’t a murderer… I’d think he put me in a hypnotic trance.”

“A hypnotic trance?” you ask curiously.

“Yes. A hypnotic trance. I don’t know what happened in that room. Nothing is clear. Not the conversations, not the expressions… You can’t imagine how hard I’ve tried to remember after that session, Ms. Y/N. But I can’t recall a thing. It’s like someone opened my head and stirred the inside with a spoon.”

His pupils are dilated, his voice trembling. He’s scared—seriously scared. You’re about to say something when a knock interrupts. A woman enters, sets the tray down, quietly places the coffee, and leaves.

“Inducing a hypnotic trance isn’t all that difficult, Mr. Choi. Don’t let that scare you. Anyone trained in the technique can do it. Controlling the brain takes effort, but the person you’re talking about must be very knowledgeable. Is there any issue with me speaking to him?”

As you place the coffee cup back down, Mr. Choi shakes his head.

“Your friend worked at this hospital. I know her well. I have no doubt you’re capable, but I hope this doesn’t overwhelm you, Ms. Y/N. The issues with that man’s mind are far more serious than anyone else in these cells.”

You nod and stand. The Director stands with you. He gestures, and you begin to walk with him. As you proceed down the corridor, heading away from the cells confuses you. Realizing he’s in a different section makes you furrow your brows. You pass through a door with a transparent curtain. At the end of the corridor is a locked room. As you approach, the tense aura presses on your gut, but you try to stay calm.

You continue until you stop in front of that locked door.

“This way,” says Director Choi. The guard trailing behind you steps closer with equally nervous steps. You try to maintain your composure as the tension clings to your skin. As the guard unlocks the cell, you hope he doesn’t fumble the job. When the door opens, Director Choi makes no move to enter. The guard turns and disappears. You frown and swallow involuntarily.

“His hands are cuffed. He hasn’t attacked anything yet.”

It sounds like he’s saying he doesn’t want to go in. You give a slight nod. You don’t want to go in either—not one bit.As you step inside, a tickle forms in your throat, but to avoid revealing your anxiety, you suppress the urge to cough, pressing your tongue to your palate. As the door opens, Mr. Choi stays behind, and you enter alone.

He’s right there in front of you. Head bowed, cuffed hands resting on the table. Strands of hair fall over his face, casting a shadow on his eyes. You can’t tell whether they’re open or closed probably closed. He’s wearing a plain shirt, buttoned all the way up to the crease on the sleeve. If not for the cuffs and the rumors, you could mistake him for someone high-ranking. Killers don’t wear neatly ironed clothes.

“Welcome.”

You were lost in observing him. The closing door startles you. The soft chuckle filling the room unsettles you, and your feet freeze in place. You’re not sure if he’s noticed you watching, but you feel observed. You remain composed, take a few steps, and decide to approach the table. His tan hands twitch, then rub together. His head remains bowed, and it unsettles you more than it should. You try not to notice how fast your heart is racing.

“Not going to speak, Doctor?” he says in a layered voice. You place your hands on your legs and take a shaky breath. You don’t want to stutter. You choose your words carefully.

“I’m Y/N. They told me inside that you need help.”

He laughs. Nods slightly, then lifts his head to meet your eyes. Now you get a better look at his face. You encounter his irises, unusually white pupils, which, rather than adding to his intimidation, seem to be a distinctive element that sets him apart from everyone else. The shadows cast by his hair don’t hide the sharp lines of his features, the shape of his nose, his eyes, his lips you memorize them. He has a beautiful face. Killers are supposed to be dirty. His isn’t. You spot a small mole on his nose and a red scar between his eyes. He runs his tongue between his teeth a few times. You’re struck by the shape of his mouth. You pause. You really wonder, is he even a killer?

“I do need help, Doctor” he says. Tilts his head and watches you. He looks like a small child. He swallows. As he does, a pained expression crosses his face.

“There’s a bit of pain between my legs.”

A child? Forget that.

You ignore the dirty joke.

“Director Choi said you hypnotized him and controlled his mind. Do you have that kind of expertise?” you ask, flatly.

He looks around the room. When he purses his lips, your hands cling to your pants without thinking. He appears thoughtful, then looks back at you.

“Did I do that?” he asks curiously. His voice is childlike, but to you it’s just annoying. You don’t respond. You wait.

“As far as I know, there’s no legal restriction in our country on who can or can’t perform hypnosis.”

Despite your tension, you chuckle a joyless laugh.

“If you’re that knowledgeable, then you should also know that manipulating someone’s mind violates a physician’s professional boundaries” you say.

He leans in, closer to your face. You grip your pants tighter, hold your ground. You’re now face to face. His eyebrows are neat, lashes aligned. His face is sharp and symmetrical.

“Sweating from increased body heat, accelerated heart rate…” He smiles. You hadn’t noticed the sweat until he said it. His breath fans across your face, making him harder to ignore.

“You must be having naughty thoughts to be this excited, Doctor,” he says, grinning. Gets closer.

“Or… You’re not a real doctor.”

His breath grazes your face again before he pulls back. He leans into his chair, watching your stunned expression with amusement. You part your lips and release your grip on your pants.

He keeps watching. You avert your gaze. You try to calm yourself down before you slam the door and walk out.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Doctor?” he asks. You look at him again. He’s still watching. His lips are dry, cracked. That dry? They must not be giving him water.

“I’m not satisfied with the service, Doctor,” he says. He must’ve noticed where you were looking. You quickly meet his gaze again. There’s a warmth there it confuses you even more. You take a deep breath and reach for your bag. He eyes the bottle of water you pull out.

“But you still haven’t answered my question, Doctor.”

You stand, approach him. The closeness triggers him, he studies your every move. You’re tense, but not like when you first entered.

“I’m not obligated to answer personal questions. Especially if the person asking is my patient,” you say. You open the bottle and bring it to his lips. He doesn’t break eye contact as he drinks. A drop trickles down from the corner of his mouth to his chin. You swallow. His lips now have more color. But his damned eyes still haven’t left your face. Your hands tremble as you return the bottle to your bag. You clear your throat.

“How sweet of you to already claim me, Doctor,” he says. You frown, face him.

“You won’t answer personal questions with me that makes me your patient too, doesn’t it?”

Is that what he focused on? He must be obsessed with details. You read a little article somewhere about murderers being detail oriented and symmetry obsessed. Now it gives you goosebumps remembering it.

“If that’s what you’re fixated on, I don’t recall implying that I would treat you,” you say.

He clicks his tongue, the sound echoing in the room. He lifts his gaze, meets yours. Tilts his head slightly to the right, keeps watching.

“Pity, Doctor. I could’ve behaved for you.”

Of course he’s playing. You know if you don’t take this job, your friend will kill you. You know what’ll happen if you object once you’re out of here.

“I think that’s enough for today,” you say, standing. “I have a report to deliver to Mr. Choi.”

He must’ve gotten the message. He smirks. Watches your body as you stand.

“I like you, Doctor.”

As you walk down the corridor, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. You’ve just come out of a terrifying session. You breathe easier now than you did inside the room. You wipe the sweat off your neck and shoulders with a tissue from your pocket. When you find Director Choi’s office, he lifts his head from the papers and watches you with curiosity. You drop your bag and speak before reaching for the file.

“In our next session, I want the cuffs removed. Also, I request a pitcher and glass be left in the cell” you say sharply. While he stares at you in shock, your eyes catch the name written in bold ink on the file cover.

7552 – Park Jong Gun

I don't think anyone will read this story, but the fiction suddenly teleported into my mind, so instead of keeping it in my notes, I'm writing it here lol. sorry if I wrote something wrong

[solbaby7]

I know that the bar is swamped, but if you find the time and have the liquor, could I please have a neat Manhattan with a salt rim?

(Idk how to say this but like, submissive neat? If you're alright with that)

lololol “if you’re alr with that” babe, i’m foaming at the fucking mouth for it. this is gonna be a wee bit more than a blurb lemme tell u.

not edited teehee

[ “don’t make me put you on a leash” + smut + sub!az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Usually, you don’t mind needy.

The grabby hands pawing at your thighs. Kisses that linger on your neck, nose tracing the curve of your shoulder. Hushed words crooned into your ear to distract from the way eager fingers graze at the stitching of expensive lingerie.

It was his reprieve.

Azriel’s favorite way to unwind after spending his days as the dutiful spymaster. With you, he gets to lay down his weapons. Turns off the killer instinct that never seems to comprehend the meaning of a break. Hangs up the battle worn leathers that eats, sleeps, and breathes the contours of Azriel’s body.

But, with you? With you, he doesn’t bother about trivial things like power or strength. He relinquishes his title, shuns his duties, turns his back on honor and responsibility in favor of sinking down on his knees and turning all that over to you.

And usually, you don’t mind.

But the day had been especially stressful; never-ending and the open mouthed kisses trailing up the soft flesh of your inner thigh wasn’t loosening the tight knots embedded along your shoulderblades. “Knock it off.” You grumble softly, an achy spine hunched over glossy wood while weary eyes struggle to decipher the words written on parchment. Knuckles rub against your eyelids, toes nudging at the neat taper of his waist to push him off.

The gentle correction does no good for an impatient pet and Azriel only listens for but a second.

He tries again, going a different route when applying pecks to prettily pedicured toes. A palm curls around your ankle, fingers digging into your soles until a groan of approval rips free from your throat without permission.

Just like that, the damage is already done.

One sound becoming the equivalent of throwing him a bone. “That’s—that’s actually…really nice, Az.”

The praise satiates a need within him, urging him to keep it up, to try harder—to do things that had you gasping and yelping and screaming out raving reviews. It becomes an addiction; fueling an obsession that teases the fine line between devotion and fixation.

Every touch is annoyingly controlled, a soldiers training bleeding into the bedroom when giving his all on a task. He strives to be the best when coaxing knots coiled deep within the muscle of stiff calves, swiftly distracting from the way he suckles marks into the softness of supple thighs. “Feels good?”

“Mmhm,” The grip on your pen wavers, loosens, then falls altogether when Az urges his shadows through your hair; phantom fingers applying generous pressure to your scalp until lids flutter closed and your back slumps fully into your chair. “Just what I needed.”

It’s like adding gasoline to a fire.

You forget yourself when indulging yourself in its warmth; ignoring now flames grow when stoked—how they burn when life is breathed into it. How it eats and eats; singeing and charring, wringing out the life from the air and replacing it with soot.

By time you realize the damage, Azriel’s too far gone. Already high on the kerosene you splash at him and happily huffing in the fumes. “Can make you feel better.” Curious massaging morphs into outright groping, his hands eating at whatever he can hold as his tongue follows behind to lick up the crumbs. “Please, let me taste?”

You should say no.

He doesn’t exactly deserve it. Touching without permission. Refusing to sit still. Begging for treats instead of waiting patiently like good boys should. Whining when you weakly start pushing him back. Growling when you attempt to close your legs.

They’re all red flags—behaviors that warrant correction and yet you ignore them all when Azriel looks up at you with those eyes.

Like vats of honey in the sunlight, absolutely oozing with sticky sweet submission; staring up at you like you were an angel gifted from the heavens.

You suppose the day had been long.

And even gods praise their most dutiful servants.

Teeth bite into the fat of your cheek as feet neatly perch at the edge of your seat, knees parting open as you give into selfish desire. “Fine.” He’s all but drooling before you can get the word out, staring at the skin bared to him. You glisten under faelight, ego inflating when you catch the way Azriel ogles the thin slip of cotton separating you from his prize. “Only a little though. Have to make sure you save room for dinner.”

Dinner be damned for the only feast Azriel craved was between your thighs and he wastes no time digging in once given the go ahead.

His tongue paints a trail up the seam of your pussy and the harsh line of your shoulders finally eases. Two fingers spread you open while the slick muscle circles the rim of your entrance and that rigid knot in your spine finally knows peace.

Satisfaction melts your discipline down more than acceptable, that much becomes apparent when Azriel’s muffled moans shift into sloppy grunts. His nose is all but buried in your cunt, arousal shiny on his lips and dripping down the curve of his chin.

It doesn’t take long for it to get sloppy. Spit sliding down the cleft of your ass, smearing along inner thighs and on the seat cushion below. But you forget to care when you notice the flush of Az’s cheeks, the shallow heave of his chest as the need to coax those wrecked sounds from your mouth outweighed the need to breathe. “Hey,” You huff out, peering down at him, stomach fluttering when he only burrows himself deeper, tongue fucking into a drooling hole. “You need to come up for air.”

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Common sense and rationality left itself at the door, tossed away intentionally out of sight so he has a reason to keep eating and eating and eating.

This time you don’t melt under the pleasure, thighs clenching around his head, smushing his cheeks as you ban access to your fountain of youth. “The mouth on you is pure sin, might almost make up for the fact that you’re a shit listener.” He’s a right mess, cheeks red and lips swollen. One hand furiously stroking at a desperate prick. His mouth opens to complain—maybe to beg, but your thighs only squeeze tighter, teeth digging into the soft part of his cheeks in gentle correction. “By the cauldron, I’ll leash you.”

It only stokes his fire, fresh logs added to keep the inferno from flickering away; abdomen flexing as his body reacts to the threat.

Please, please, please! Azriel’s eyes scream.

You should say no.

Though, restraint had never really been your strong suit.

“If you’re so willing to rob yourself of air for the sake of a cunt, then I suppose we’ll just have to see how long you can hold your breath.”

[autisticrosewilson]

Put this in the discord forever ago but I'm thinking about it again so trans fem Robin Jay in an au where she has other relationships besides the bats!

Thinking about Robin Jay who hasn't figured it out yet because he JUST got somewhere safe, for a given value of safe, and he's just starting to figure out who he is when he's not in survival mode

And Bruce doesn't really notice, Dick isn't around enough to notice. But the other people around them?

Kids are far more perceptive than people give them credit for, the boys at school seem to know instinctively that there is something that sets him apart from them. Something more than background or wealth. It's something deeper in the way that Jason sits and the way he talks and subtle hints in the way he dresses. Things they don't even know they're picking up on really. And Jason doesn't know what it is, what he's doing that's putting him so at odds with everyone else.

He sees Diana for the first time on TV when he's too young to really comprehend superheroes and villains and the world they live in. And he thinks "wow, I want to be like that." And he meets her in person hiding behind the mask of a boy whose name he stole, and he thinks this is what it feels like to have a crush. To admire the way her hair falls and lipstick just slightly smudged and the skirt swishes around her thighs when she fights. He doesn't know yet what gender envy is, and for the moment he feels like a normal teenage boy. He's not sure how he feels about it.

But Diana notices and she sees the difference between the men that ogle her, he longing for something deeper than intimacy, the very parts that make her up and the loss at not having them himself. She has seen many girls like Robin, so she helps in the way she helps all her sisters. By training with her, making her into a warrior because girlhood is like a sword, sharp and made to spill the blood of enemies, to protect those who can't protect themselves.

Dinah clocks the new Robin immediately. She was a girl like that once, a girl who didn't yet know what she could be, what she could do. She does what her mother did for her, when she was still young and scruffy and sneakily trying to wear her mother's heels.

Jason has never worn fishnets before. It's new and a little embarrassing because he knows this is not something that boys do...but he doesn't hate it.

He really, really doesn't hate it. And it's not even that big of an addition to the Robin suit but he likes that it sets him apart from Dick. A way to make Robin his own without feeling like he's failing. He likes working with Black Canary, he likes learning from her. He likes that she lets him match with her. He keeps the fishnets, and the jacket, and the earring. But he doesn't wear them in Gotham because Bruce wants Robin and what Jason wants means little in the face of the legacy he has inherited.

Alfred notices before Bruce. Everyone notices before Bruce. He notices that Jason prefers sweet, floral scents to more masculine ones. He notices that Jason's favorite pants are the ones that are so baggy they look like a skirt when his legs are together. He notices that Jason always seems to wriggle his way out of getting haircuts. He doesn't know for sure. He doesn't really know what to do about it. So he calls in help, because it's important for a soldier to know when they need to call the cavalry.

Selina remembers the first time she did a trick in front of Jason, the way his eyes were glued to her heels. Maybe she shows off more than she needs to, but she rarely gets such an appreciative audience.

Jason asks her to teach him. He doesn't know why he asked that. It's silly, and childish, and he didn't even think about it until the words were out of his mouth. But she agrees! And he doesn't know where she got the heels from but they fit. And they're barely anything, just Mary Jane's with platforms like some of the girls at school wear, but he can't stop looking at them. They make him just a little taller, maybe the same height as other boys his age. And when he walks they make a satisfying little clack clack clack that makes him impossibly giddy. He wonders what it would be like to dance in them, what Bruce would say if he saw them, how the boys at school would react. If their gazes would trail his legs and stick to his thighs the way they do with the girls.

For all his detective skills, Dick doesn't figure it out until he's told. Jason was just supposed to be spending the weekend with them but he's spent most of his time hiding in his room or following Donna. He thinks maybe it's a blooming crush but when he suggests it she just looks at him, that placid little eyebrow raise that means she knows something he doesn't. She asks him when he will bring his sister back.

Jason watches the way Donna does her makeup, the perfect swoop of her eyeliner and the glittery highlight that brings out the curve of her nose. He watches when Kori puts on her fashion shows, the delicate straps over her strong shoulders and the way her skirt fans out when she twirls. He admires Ravens hair, the purple so dark it looks black until it's in the sunlight, long and thick and all the way down to her waist. He supposes he's not as subtle as he thought because the first time he tells her his real name she asks if he's sure. Of course, he'd told her then, not sure what she could mean.

It sticks with him though, a needling in the back of his head. Is he sure? He thought he was. His name doesn't sound right anymore, it seems to rot in his mouth when he introduces himself to people. It was the name his parents gave him, it's the only name he's ever had. He has Robin, but Robin is not his. The next time he visits his mother, when she finally has a grave to rest, he asks her what else she would have named him. The stone does not answer, but looking at the letters engraved on it gives him enough of an idea.

It takes time to work up the courage, even to himself. He only manages under the cover of darkness, safely locked in his room after patrol. He faces the mirror even though he can't see himself, it's better that way. Cathy he whispers, his voice soft and quickly swallowed by silence. It's not...right. but it's better. He does it again and he thinks he likes the sound, likes how light his voice is. She starts looking up names.

[meganwritesfanfics]

How to Save A Life (Dr. Jack Abbott x Reader) Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Trigger Warning: Violence against women. Our boy is stressed.

“Robby,” A voice called and Robby turned to see Jack rushing into the room. “Where is she?” 

“Jack,” Robby quickly grabbed Abbott by his shoulders. “I need you to take a breath. You cannot come in here guns blazing ok. Right now, we need to figure out a plan.” 

“How long has she been in there with that fuck.” Jack growled. 

“Only about 10 minutes.” Dana said as she came up and put her hand on Jack’s back. “I got a glimpse when I was moving some patients. She looks good Jack, she seems calm.” 

“Dr. Robinavitch.” A voice said called. And the trio turned to see Gloria coming in. “Did I hear correctly, do we have a doctor held hostage?” 

Robby sighed grabbing onto his stethoscope and pulling on it. “Yes, I was in the process of getting our other patients and staff safe, then I was going to call you.” 

“Have you called the police?” Her eyes darted to Jack with a questioning look. “Dr. Abbott, what are you doing here.” 

Jack opened his mouth to speak but Robby quickly cut in. 

“It’s Dr Y/N Abbott who has been taken hostage.” Robby said. 

“Shit,” Gloria sighed. “Ok well, I am going to call the police we need…” 

“He said if you call the police he will kill her. You can’t call them.” 

“Jack I understand you are scared but we can’t let…” 

“I’m more than just scared Gloria, I’m livid. This shouldn’t have happened. Robby and I have been asking, no begging you for more security. And now my wife is trapped in a room with a crazy man whose threatening her life.” 

“We can have this discussion later. Right now we are going to get the police involved. They will know how to handle this situation and make it so Y/N gets out safe.” 

“I need an Echo machine.” Y/N voice called out. 

“I’ve got it.” Jack called as he gave Gloria one last glare before he went to grab the machines. 

“Robby, you know how Abbott is, we can’t have him here right now, we need to get him out of the room.” Gloria said. 

“Gloria, we both know there is no way I’m going to be able get Jack out of here. At least not without Y/N by his side.” 

Gloria sighed. “Just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. I’m going to talk with the police figuring out what the best course of action is.” 

As Gloria left, Dana and Robby watched as Jack threw on some scrubs as he made his way over to the room with the Echo. 

“Here you are Doctor Abbott.” He said as he greeted Y/N at the door, his eyes darting between her eyes and the man who stood next to her the gun digging into the side of her head. 

“Thank you.” She smiled her eyes filling with tears when she saw Jack. 

As Jack passed off the machine, their hands brushed and Jack fought his instinct to just grab her hand and pull him to safety. 

“Alright let’s get back to it.” Driscoll snapped as started to pull Y/N back. 

Y/N mouthed I love you before she turned back to Driscoll. 

Jack stormed away heading back to Robby and Dana. 

“What are we going to do?” Jack said his whole body was shaking. He hated that he couldn’t do anything. He needed to have a task or he was going to go insane. 

“Gloria is calling the police.” Robby sighed. 

“What!” Jack snapped. “That could get Y/N killed we…” 

“Jack, we can’t do anything. We aren’t equipped to handle this. And you know that you aren’t thinking straight right now. The police will know what is best to do. They will help Y/N.” 

Jack sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. He knew Robby was right. 

After 15 agonizing minutes Gloria returned. “I have talked with the hostage team, they are going to stay outside but will move in if things turn bad.” 

Jack let out a dry laugh. “So we are just going to wait.” 

“Doug Driscoll has no priors, the police are confident that once he gets what he wants, he will let Y/N go.” 

“And what happens if the tests that Y/N is performing turn out bad. What if he get’s bad news. Do you think he isn’t going to get a little emotional. And can you confidnetly tell me he won’t take that emotion out on my wife!” Jack screamed. 

“Jack I think you need to take a walk.” Robby said. As he placed his hand on his friends back and started to walk towards the trauma bay. 

“I can’t deal with her.” He growled. “She doesn’t give a shit about anything but her fucking money.” 

“Jack, I know you are terrified right now. But blowing up on Gloria, while hilarious, isn’t going to help anything. Y/N is smart. And she is a fucking badass, she’s not going to let this bastard do anything to take her away from you ok.” 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked his ass already.” Jack joked slightly. 

“Oh just wait until he let’s his guard down, that fucker won’t know what hit him.” Robby laughed and the two laughed today. And for the first time since he got there Jack felt like he could breath slightly. 

“Never a dull day in the Pitt.” He sighed. 

“So a kid huh,” Robby said changing the subject. “How are you feeling about that?”

“Honestly more excited than I ever thought I would.” Jack beamed. “You know how she told me. She bought Coop a bandana that said big brother.” Coopers was Jack and  Y/N geriatric black lap. 

“How far along is she?” 

“About 8 weeks.” Jack sighed and the fear started to set back in. “I tried to convince her to stop working. I was worried the stress wouldn’t be good for the baby.” 

“Jack, you and I both know Y/N is going to be working until she is ready to pop. And she is far too good at her job for us to lose her.” Robby smiled. 

“I’m really hoping its a girl.” Jack smiled. “I just think having a mini Y/N running around will be the greatest thing.” 

“Oh you won’t stand a chance if it’s a girl, Y/N already has you wrapped around her finger, and if you have a girl, you will be completely outnumbered.” Robby teasaed. 

“That sounds like heaven brother I can’t lie.” 

“I’m happy for you man.” Robby smiled. 

“Jack,” Dana said popping in. “Y/N just called for an EKG.” 

“I’m on it.” Jack said as he rushed to gather everything he needed. He also grabbed his pocket knife and hid it in his pocket, hoping he might find an opportunity to get Y/N out. 

As he got to the door he found Y/N waiting with Driscoll still behind her. 

“Dr. Abbott here says that she needs two people to do this EKG that I need, is that correct?” He snapped and Y/N locked eyes with Jack. 

“Yes, you need two people to run the machines.” Jack lied. 

“Alright, well come on in then, but no funny business.” 

Jack just nodded as he walked into the room. 

“Are you a doctor?” Driscoll asked as the two of them worked on setting up the EKG. 

“Yes, I’m Doctor Y/L/N.” Jack said not risking saying that he and Y/N were married in case it set him off. 

“Good. I don’t want any nurses not after having waited for so long to get seen.” 

“Mr. Driscoll was complaining of chest pains, he is concerned that he may have had a heart attack.” Y/N said as she stood on one side of Driscoll attaching the nodes. “Nothing  showed up on the Echo. But we want to get as many tests as possible.” 

“All I want is to get the care that I deserve.” Driscoll snapped moving the gun from pointing at Y/N’s head to pointing at her stomach. 

“Hey!” Jack snapped before he even could stop himself. Y/N looked at Jack eyes wide and Driscoll just smiled smugly moving the gun back to Y/N’s head. 

“You got a problem with what’s going on? Huh tough guy.” 

“If you want to get the care you deserve, I’m your guy. I’m the Senior Attending. I outrank Doctor Y/N.” 

“Jack, don’t.” Y/N snapped. 

“Well then you should have volunteered buddy. Doctor Abbott here took one for the team, and I’m sticking with her. And I hate to break it to you, she’s a lot easier on the eyes than you are.” 

Jack fought back a growl and he stuck his hand in his pocket wrapping his hand around his pocket knife, opening it in his pocket. 

“Hey!” Driscoll screamed as he pointed the gun at Jack, “What do you have in pocket!” 

Y/N took the opportunity to lunge for the gun but Driscoll was fasted and he slammed the butt of the gun into the side of Y/N’s head. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Jack roared. 

“Hands up! Let me see you hands!” Driscoll screamed as he grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck roughly and shoved the barrel of the gun roughly into the area where he just hit her, causing her to yelp in pain. “Get your hands out of your fucking pockets or I will fucking shoot her.” 

Jack threw his hands up quickly. “They are out! Jesus, I have nothing in my pockets!” He looked at Y/N and could see the blood coming down from her temple, and she had tears streaming down her face. “Please just let her go.” He pleaded, his voice cracking.

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