#i know there’s still a lot I haven’t done but I hadn’t expected that the content for the LIs would run out so quickly

[dol-dee]

Hm I would love to continue Dee's dol journey and play it more but I feel like I’m starting to run out of stuff

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[wcters]

𝟳 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬/𝗡 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: a video that someone put together of moments where you and matt where being cute

warnings/notes: established relationship, swearing, pda, i’m trying to be inclusive so please let me know what i can do that i haven’t done already!

In the beginning, you could say you were kept a secret, but only because you didn’t want to be in the public that early in your relationship. Besides that, your and Matt’s relationship was never kept hidden. Matt loved you and liked to show you off, but you weren’t a social media person. You were fine with being in the background of things and posted on his social media, but you wanted your private life to stay private. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date an influencer, and you had no problem with it as long as he respected your wishes, and he did.

You didn’t even know he was an influencer when you met, not being on TikTok a lot. You were working ━━ and still are ━━ at a clothing store in LA when you first bumped into each other ━━ quite literally. You were coming out of the back when he backed up into you. You both apologized and went back to what you were doing. You asked your co-worker if she knew who he was because you thought he was attractive. She told you he had been there a couple times before but didn’t know his name. When you were ringing him through, you gave him his receipt. He grabbed it, wrote something on it, and handed it back to you. Low and behold, it had his phone number and name on it.

Ever since then, you two had been . . . You. You immediately kicked it off, going on dates and hanging out, finding out about how he was a triplet ━━ you assumed after seeing the three of them in the store ━━ and finding out he was famous. You used that word, he denied and told you he wouldn’t call it that making you laugh. You had moved to LA for school, and told him that you wanted your private life to stay private if you got together . . . And it did.

You did end up being in the background of videos and livestreams, posted online, and you did feature in a podcast episode, but you never expected videos or compilations of you or matt, let alone just you, so you were surprised when you saw a video titled 7 minutes of Y/n and Matt being cute. You have to admit you smiled and took a screenshot, planning to show Matt when you next saw him. You would wait if you weren’t impatient . . . But you were. He could watch it later. You hadn’t really had a clue as to what would be in it. You didn’t really pay attention to clips of you or you Matt. You had Matt as your boyfriend to experience those moments.

The first series of clips to show up was the many times you had walked in to Matt’s room while he was streaming, and not realizing until you stopped looking at your phone and saw him looking at you. This was always followed by your voice off camera apologizing and him replying with ‘it’s alright babe. You need me to get off?’ He always asked you that when you walked in, not wanting to put the stream over you, and he never did. If you said no, you’d either lie down in his bed and go on your phone or head out to the couch to watch a movie. If you said yes ━━ which you rarely did unless you had a bad day ━━ he would immediately end his stream with a quick goodbye and his attention was on you in an instant.

There were multiple times where you had to help the boys with something for a video. Whether it was setting something up, figuring something out, etc. you were always there. Sometimes it was off camera, sometimes Nick would cut it out, but this time it wasn’t. You remembered them filming this video, being over there when it happened to help if needed and make sure nothing bad happened (them burning another house down).

The three of them had managed to get it out of the box and bag and get it into the right position, but not how to get some of the poles in. “Maybe we should ask Y/n?” Chris suggested as he held up the tent. “No, we don’t need to.” Matt shut down the question as he fiddled with the metal pole. The oldest and youngest were caught looking at each other before they both yelled ‘Y/n!’ You were seen running in, panic in your eyes before you realized nothing bad had happened. “You scared the shit out of me,” you told them, half scolding them, “either way, what’s up?”

“We need help.” Nick smiled, holding up the tent. “You don’t know how to set up a tent?” “We do, it’s just a bit more confusing inside.” Chris answered. “I had nothing to do with this.” Matt butted in, hands up in defense. “Alright. Back up.” You noticed why Nick maybe kept it in as you watched the clip. You were instructing Nick and Chris who were holding up the tent as Matt was gathering more poles. When you asked him to pass you one, you kissed him on the cheek as a thank you forgetting you were on camera. After that, Matt had looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars. To Nick and Chris, you did as you had help them set this whole thing up. To Matt . . . He was just admiring his girlfriend.

After you had gotten together, it became second nature for him to let you know if he was coming up behind you. His hands would grab your waist while he made his passed you. It was seen in the background of multiple TikToks. You didn’t really notice it happening after the first few times because it had become so normal for you, but clips of these motions had made it into the video. You didn’t think those were caught on camera . . . But you didn’t really mind. You thought maybe part of it was because of you how you met, but you really didn’t know, and you’ve never asked.

The next clip was one you’d never forget. When Nick and Chris asked you to help them prank Matt . . . How could you say no? You would never be involved if it was something bad, and this one wasn’t. You knew about Matt’s “crush” on Liam Neeson ━━ having had an idea before he ever admitted it by the amount of times you watched movies and Liam Neeson just happened to be in it ━━ and almost laughed when they told you the idea.

They had asked you to distract him for a long enough time that they could set up all of the pictures, blankets, etc. You wouldn’t say this to Matt’s face, but his room was a little boring - he had the same black pillows and comforter. Without any of your stuff that you had “left” in the room, you were worried about what it would look like. When it got closer to the time that you would be heading back to the house, you had started to get excited. Matt had noticed this and asked what was up, so you had to play it cool . . . You aren’t good at that and you ended up texted Nick and Chris saying something along the lines of ‘he knows somethings up, I don’t have a poker face.” Either way, he didn’t have a clue what was happening.

Your and Matt’s footsteps could be heard through the camera as you made your way toward the door. Matt had texted his brothers and when they didn’t answer, tried to FaceTime them. That’s what could be seen when Matt opened his bedroom door with you behind him smiling. “Oh . . . my god.” Matt spoke, shock on his face. Chris and Nick laughed in response. “This is the prank?” He asked them, “Liam Neeson all over my bedroom is the prank?” The boys nodded. “Wait - Were you in on this?” Matt asked as he turned to you walking toward him and into the room. “‘Maybe.” You shrugged. “I knew something was up,” he wrapped his arms around you as you walked, “you were acting weird.” “I don’t have a good poker face!”

Matt continued to look around the room before Chris turned his camera to face you. “How do you feel about this?” “Well, it’s just a little more Liam Neeson than normal, but it spices’s his room up a little bit more.” “Totally.” Nick agreed.

You had a habit of leaving your things with Matt. Most of the time, it was due to the lack of much needed pockets in women’s pants. When you didn’t ━━ or forgot to ━━ bring a purse, you’d ask him to throw a chapstick or a hair tie into his pocket or wallet. Other times, you were just too lazy to carry something and didn’t want to stick it in your bra.

You also tended to get Matt little keychains to hang on his backpack or car keys. Most of the keychains were from when you went back to Canada to visit your family and bought him something, but you also liked to thrift them too. He would always take them and immediately put them on something. It was his way of silently showing that your his girlfriend and that he loves you, and the things you do for him. Giving him things was your way of saying he’s yours too.

When they posted the TikTok of guess who’s is who, you expected them to only do their things because it was about them, but you were surprised when you saw little bits of you in there. A Canada keychain hanging on his car keys and backpack, a hair tie with his jewelry, and chapstick with his skincare. The comments were flooded with people talking and mentioning you, knowing which one was Matt’s stuff. You smiled when you saw this being featured, and your comment that said ‘girlfriend duties”.

When you had featured on the Cut the Camera Podcast, you had mentioned the Let’s Trip and Versus tour and how you and Matt had to do long distance for a bit. You went to a few of their shows - being flied out per Matt’s request ━━ but because fn your job, you couldn’t be with them the full time. When they were on tour, it felt like you and Matt never saw each other, but in reality you two spoke almost all the time. To some people, Matt could be described as clingy, but you were too . . . And you didn’t mind that about each other.

You never knew that your FaceTime’s were ever caught in camera, but they were in this video, so you guess they were. The boys had done vlogs on the bus, as well as TikTok’s, and this video showed Matt talking to his phone that showed a blurry you. You didn’t even spot that. You could hear you and Matt talking, but too quietly to make out what you were talking about. Long distance was always hard for you and Matt, but you made it work. You would be stupid not to.

When the boys travelled for videos, you usually didn’t go. Not that you didn’t want to, but you had a job in LA and couldn’t be travelling all the time. But when Matt, Nick and Chris asked you to come with them to Texas to shoot a video for Sam and Colby and tour the city, you said yes. You’ve been to a couple of states in the U.S. and thought ‘why not?’ to visiting Texas. Plus, Matt had talked about that amazing thrift store they went to while on your and you were a sucker for vintage.

You didn’t feature in the Sam and Colby video ━━ besides little bits of you in the background ━━ and offered to film if they needed someone to. Matt was scared, and wanted you there. Nick had gushed to you about him wanting to do the Estes method, and you and him wanted you to witness it. You did, however, feature in the Texas vlog the triplets put out on their channel - being seen in the background. But this clip was a specific one from the video.

You were used to the cold, having grown up in Canada, and handled it pretty well. But one night when you went out for Italian, you didn’t dress well enough for the weather. You didn’t think Texas would be that cold . . . But you assumed wrong. While Nick and Chris were talking to the camera, you were in the background shivering with Matt beside you. You were in a long sleeve, vest, and sweatpants. Your legs were warm, you upper body? Not so much.

“You alright?” Matt asked you, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you. “Yeah, a little cold. But it’s fine.” You replied, leaning into him. Matt was like a walking heater. “You sure? You want to switch jackets?” He leaned his chin on your head, swaying you back and fourth. “I’m alright, but thank you. You’re too sweet.” Your conversation wasn’t heard by the camera, but your movements were. Matt could be seen moving his hands up and down your arms and holding your hand as you walked into the place.

You and Matt had similar, but different music tastes. You would recommend each other songs and made playlists, as well as a playlist you both shared with music you both liked. You two would listen to this constantly; while hanging out, in the car, baking and cooking, just doing regular tasks. Matt had given you some guilty pleasure songs, and you had given him some . . . Though he would have never admitted it to anyone besides you. That was until the truth or eat video.

“What is your guiltiest pleasure song and when was the last time you listened to and got into the groove?” Nick asked Matt. He paused, a couple songs immediately popping into his head. “I got to check,” he said as he took out his phone and opened your shared playlist. “This is one that Y/n showed me one time and she loves it.” Matt clicked the song and it started to play. “That sounds like Y/n,” Chris nodded as Nick agreed. “Yeah, that would be my guilty pleasure song. It’s one of her favourite songs so it’s on a lot.”

You remembered seeing a lot of top comments on the video taking about it and seeing the clip a couple times on TikTok with the comments being the same. The next clip after that one was an Instagram story you posted of you two in the car, Matt driving and lip-syncing to the song. Everyone had freaked out over that.

People would also freak out when you would wear his clothes. You had a habit of doing that, you lived oversized and Matt has Great style. TikTok’s and Instagram stories of you wearing a sweater or sweatpants that people recognized were Matt’s were also littered through the video as well. And moments of him slipping a sweater on you or turning you around to see if it was his.

A lot of the moments included in the compilation were just regular things that couples did . . . But you loved the video. You liked it, and sent it to Matt over text with the message ‘people must really like us’. Safe to say, the person who had made it freaked out.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 5)

Masterpost

It took a little convincing to get Jazz to come back with them, but she didn’t want to stay with Constantine because he ‘smelled like cigarettes and generational trauma’ and she couldn’t stay alone. So in the end she agreed to come back to Wayne manor with the promise that Tim would help walk her through the process of getting emancipated since he’d already done it before. Dick informed Agent A they’d be having another new person for dinner and asked Jazz if she had any allergies, which was also a no. Apparently the Fentons tended to be a very hearty family. 

They took the jet back, dropping Jazz off at the manor before parking in the batcave and changing into civics as quickly as they could so they could go greet her. Before they could Alfred sent a video on the family group chat. The video started with Danny pacing in the foye, then the door opened and Jazz hesitantly let herself in only to be greeted by a battering ram of Brother hurtling towards her. 

She managed to get her arms up in time to catch Danny with an Oof before they just clung to each other. Awww, why weren’t any of Dick’s siblings like that with him?! Something to bully them about later.

—----

“What happened?” Danny whispered against Jazz’s chest. 

“The Justice League finally stepped up and dealt with it. Locked the portal, took away mom and dad and Vlad, I don’t know what will happen with any of them but it’s not our fault whatever it is. It’s not our responsibility or our problem, I’m going to focus on university and you’re going to focus on keeping yourself and the babies healthy and safe.” She said softly, feeling Danny wince.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the babies, I just didn’t know how too,” Danny said, and Jazz could feel how he tensed, expecting her to be angry with him.

“It’s okay little brother, I understand. That was a lot to process, I’m sure you would have told me soon,” She murmured and he nodded. “Danny, did he… did he rape you?” Jasmine forced herself to ask softly. She didn’t think so, but she just needed to know.

“No, he stole my DNA and tried to clone me. But it didn’t work and Danielle and the other clones were melting. I don’t know how many he tried but I can’t imagine he started in batches of ten. I could only save two, Daniella and one of the boys. It was awful. I don’t know how long they’ll need to stay inside me to fully develop but they can take all the time they need. I can feel them inside me, I can feel their love. I love them too, they’re my babies Jazz, I know I’m young but…”

“You’re going to be a great parent Danny,” Jazz promised softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m going to be the best aunt and babysitter you could ask for.”

She didn’t realize he was crying until his laugh came out audibly wet. “I’m sure you will. Thank you Jazz.”

“No problem Danny. What about the Wayne’s, you trust them? You think you’ll be okay here? I’ll going to Gotham U so I’ll be close. I’d like to work at Arkham anyway.”

“Ya, they seem good, I’ll be fine here Jazz. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Jazz said softly and Danny laughed again, trying to wipe his face as subtly as he could before he pulled back and finally let go.

Alfred cleared his throat delicately to remind them he was still there, though Jazz was glad he hadn’t interrupted their moment. “Dinner is ready when you are Master Danny, Miss Jazz,” he said with a nod and disappeared back down the hall towards the dining room.

“Well I’m starving, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!” Jazz said as she started to steer them both after Alfred.

“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Danny admitted with a chuckle. “The little ones take a lot of energy and I need to replace it somehow I goes,” He said touching his stomach in a way she now realized he’d been doing a lot. How had she missed that?

“Well you eat as much as you need to, and any cravings too. They probably have nutrients you and the baby need. You should see a doctor too. I know you probably went to see Frostbite already but you’re still half human and if they’re cloned from you so are the babies. Ask Bruce about a doctor that you can trust.”

“I will, I promise. You’re right, I really do want the babies to be okay and with what you said about the Justice League doing their job I have a feeling my existence won’t be illegal for much longer.” Walking into the dining room just in time for the family to overhear the last of that conversation. 

“Definitely not,” Bruce said firmly. “I know for a fact Martian Manhunter is absolutely furious hearing they did something like this to another sentient species just because they weren’t human.”

“You know Martian Manhunter!?” Danny said with literal stars in his eyes. 

“Oh here we go,” Jazz said with fond exasperation.

“Yes?” Bruce said, he hadn’t meant it like a question but he was just surprised, and a little worried, there was no way Danny would be prejudiced right?

“Oh my god can I meet him?! He’s been my favourite hero for ever! He’s from SPACE! I love space! I want to know everything he knows about space, and about Mars! I’ve never been to space! Well I’ve flown to the moon a couple of times but I couldn’t go further and be back in time for school.”

He had started floating off the ground as he enthused about space, with fond exasperation Jazz grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and tugged him back down into a seat at the dining room table. It was like Peter Pan with the joy lifting him up, and his excitement was both adorable and infectious. It was so good to see him happy. 

While he was talking food had been being passed around, and Damian, who was sitting on Danny’s other side from Jazz, had been heaping his plate while the older boy was distracted. It was sweet to see him being… caring to another person, he was even putting some meat on Danny’s plate with an odd stubborn set to his jaw. He almost looked aggressive but that was really just his determined face. Damian had accepted Danny in record time, which was a little surprising but it also made sense, they all knew Damian really loved caring for people, and children, and with Danny carrying babies no doubt Damian was already staking his claim on the role of favoured uncle. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce promised with a little smile. He was sure J’onn would be happy to meet Danny so it wouldn’t actually be hard. 

“Thank you!” Danny cheered, only Jazz’s grip on his shirt keeping him from leaping back into the air. 

“Eat,” Damian reminded, shoving a fork into Danny’s open hand. “Pennyworth says you were too worried to eat much at lunch and you need the nutrients!”

“Aww thank you ghostling,” Danny cooed, roughling Damian’s hair who scowled and ducked away, but didn’t lash out At All! Huh apparently pregnancy was a shield against Damian’s aggression.

Danny did start to eat though, and to keep him on track the family started talking with each other. It seemed to make him more comfortable, if things were quiet he felt the need to fill the space instead of filling his mouth. It was honestly sort of nice, even Damian shared a bit more than he usually would have about school, and about his art, then started telling Danny in particular about his animals. Danny hadn’t met them yet after all and he needed to know everything! Which ones were friendly, how to appropriately handle any of them, what treats they could have. 

The way Danny lit up and started questioning Damian about his animals was honestly a little startling, but it couldn’t be more clear that he was genuinely enthusiastic and Damian was preening. Rarely did he get such an attentive listening ear when talking about his pets, especially since everyone who had been in the family for a while had heard similar rants so many times they’d started to tune them out. 

It was a testament to Damian’s self control that he insisted Danny finish his dinner before dragging him away from the table to go show him all the various animals he had collected over the years. Danny laughed as Damian tugged on him and waved back at the family, joking about being kidnapped again (which, worrying) but he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s good to see someone with such a healthy and well supported obsession,” Jazz said with a little smile, watching after her little brother and Damian rush off. “Oh!” She said, snapping her fingers, “I should explain all that for you! If you’re going to take care of Danny you’ll need a crash course in Ghosts and Liminality. I uhh, I have a powerpoint?” She said, looking embarrassed and hopeful as she pulled a USB out of her pocket.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss. I’ll set up the projector in the family room,” Alfred said as he whisked the last of the dishes away. 

“Oh! Thank you Alfred. Can I help at all?” Jasmine asked, already getting up from the table so she could follow.

“Nonsense, you’re a guest and you had a very long day already. I’ll set it up, and then fix a room for you next Master Danny’s for tonight,” Alfred said briskly, shooing her back into the dining room room with the family. 

She looked like she was about to argue but she thought better of it. “Alfred is really the one in charge around here and we all know it,” Dick commented to her with a little smile. “No use arguing with him, and he usually knows best anyway.”

“Well, alright if you say so,” Jazz said with a little smile and tension slowly eased from her shoulders. When was the last time she got to relax? Having to worry about her brother and no one really taking care of the, how long had she been googling “how to stitch up a wound’, ‘how to help a 14 year old with ADHD study’, and various other things to try and care for a boy only two years younger than her. 

“So I know you mentioned to Nightwing that you wanted to go to Gotham U? I don’t know how your grades are,” (a lie, they knew she was a genius and her grades were excellent), “But the Wayne family sponsors many scholarships and if you don’t qualify for any of those we would be happy to just pay for your schooling. What would you like to study?” Bruce asked 

“I want to study psychology!” Jazz said, lighting up instantly. “That’s what I’ve wanted to study since I was seven. I want to be a psychologist, and I’d like to intern at Arkham. I know it’s a dangerous place, but I’m tougher than I look and I have Danny on speed dial so I’ll be fine.”

Well at least she had thought about the danger, and tougher then she looked meant something because she already looked plenty touch. “Well, I know Arkham can always use good doctors,” Bruce chuckled. “Just try not to become the next Harley Quinn,” He said it like a joke but he did mean it, the last thing Gotham needed was another evil genius. 

“Don’t worry, she lacked grounding connections due to her upbringing. I’ll have Danny, and his babies, and I’ll make friends outside of the hospital. As long as nothing happens to Danny I’m sure I’ll be fine, just like as long as nothing happens to me, or the other people he loves, Danny will be fine.”

It sounded like a warning, and it probably was, but they already knew that. Zatana had warned them that Danny could be dangerous. He would need grounding connections, but everyone did, and the Waynes already knew they were going to be family. On their own any of the Bat clan knew they could go off the deep end, a lot of them had even seen the futures with evil versions of themselves but with the other to care for and about, it kept them on the right track… at least mostly.

Next

[moonhoures]

“It Just . . . Slipped”

🕷️ kinktober — day 12: daddy kink 🕸️

pairing: chan (stray kids) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, vaginal penetration, no mention of protection but please use it irl!!, pet names ‘princess’ & ‘baby’ for reader and ‘daddy’ for chan

word count: ~1.2k

synopsis: the title is pretty self-explanatory 😅

posted: october 12, 2023

kinktober masterist

On a random Wednesday night, Chan definitely wasn’t expecting to discover one of your kinks. Yet, there he was. The two of you had been together for about a year at this point, so you had sex countless times. If asked, he would say he was fairly confident that he knew a lot about you intimately. He knew what you liked and didn’t like. He knew what certain sounds meant. He knew what buttons to press to turn you on or make you cum. It was almost like a form of science to him. He might not be an expert, but he could teach a class, you know? Metaphorically speaking of course.

So you could imagine the surprise on his face when on this night, as he’s fucking into you tirelessly, he hears you say, “Please fuck me harder, daddy.”

He almost didn’t catch it. For a split second, he even wonders if he heard you wrong, or imagined it. Several seconds went by before his hips caught up to the speed of his brain, and his body faltered. His pelvis stuttered, coming to a halt between your thighs. Your face was already growing heated as you realized what you had said. Your hands reached up to cover your face, but the damage was done. You couldn’t hide. You couldn’t run. There was nowhere to go.

“What was that?” he asked, less with accusation and more so with a tone of playfulness. If your eyes had been open, you would see a teasing grin on his lips.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly responded, your voice coming out squeaky from the embarrassment that flooded your entire being, “It just . . . slipped.”

“It’s fine, I just . . . didn’t know you had a daddy kink,” he laughed softly on the second part, which made your heart drop into your stomach, “That’s new. Where did it come from?”

“I don’t have a daddy kink,” the defense left your lips instantly, like a reflex. But the both of you could tell you weren’t one hundred percent confident in what you said. For the most part, it was true. You didn’t have a daddy kink, that you were aware of, at least. You didn’t actively seek out any kind of erotic content with that word. And you hadn’t been immensely turned on by the term before. You didn’t have a problem with the term by any means, but never had it crossed your mind to use it in practice? Honestly, you had found it kind of cringy. But now you were rethinking everything.

“You sure? Because you definitely just called me daddy, and it sounded pretty natural,” he said, the cheeky smile still on his face, “You’ve been thinking about that for a while, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t! I swear,” your words muffled through your fingers, making him laugh again. He redistributed his weight so he could reach up and peel your palms away from your eyes. When he had your hands pinned beside your head, he interlocked his fingers with yours and enjoyed the beauty that was your face. Your wide eyes, full of nervousness and shyness. Your cheeks, full of the warmth that came from his scrutinizing gaze. Your lips that he could tell you were biting on, a nervous habit of yours. He loved all of it.

“It’s okay, _______, really. Don’t think about it too much,” he spoke softer now, leaning down slowly to press relaxing kisses against your chest. , “Sex is supposed to be natural. So just let your body do what it wants. Say what feels right, yeah?”

You nodded, still feeling the humiliation deep in your bones. But Chan always had a way of putting you at ease. He was like the human embodiment of the comforting feeling you get from a hug. Like lighting your favorite candle and relishing in the relaxing aroma after a long day.

Your boyfriend continued to kiss you wherever he could reach, returning to thrust into you. You were so immersed in the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you as well as his lips on your skin, that your nervousness began to melt away. Your lips were released from the grip of your teeth, parting as pathetic moans fell from them. Chan kept your hands on the pillows, his fingers tightening around yours as he grinded his hips a little more precisely between your own. He drew the most carnal noises out of you, much to his pleasure.

As his orgasm grew close, he noticed your tell-tale signs hadn’t happened yet. He usually preferred cumming with you, or as closely as he could get. So he reached between you two, wetting his fingertips with your own arousal before circling your clit. Soft whimpers caught in your throat, making him smirk against your neck where he was pressing kisses and making hickeys that he knew you would nag to him about later.

“Gonna cum with daddy, princess?”

“Princess” was not a new pet name for you, but it still made your chest flutter. “Daddy”, however, sent your body into a tingling fit. Maybe it was because it was him that was saying it. You really weren’t sure why it suddenly had this kind of effect on you, but Chan seemed to be eating it up, much to your chagrin. You groaned in embarrassment at his question, feeling like he was mocking you, though you knew he would never do so maliciously. He just liked making you flustered.

“Hm? Speak to me, baby. Who’s your daddy?”

Okay, now he was just having too much fun with this. For a second you wondered if you should give in and play along, or ignore him altogether. But you knew your boyfriend just as well as he did you. You knew he wouldn’t let this go, even after this was said and done. He would make you revisit this moment again and again unless you begged him to stop. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that just yet. Maybe you could give this a try, at least this once?

“Come on, _______, answer me,” he tried to urge a response out of you by nuzzling his nose against yours, making you giggle softly.

“You, Chan,” you finally caved, making his grin widen. His dimples showcased on his nearly flawless skin.

“I didn’t hear you, baby,” he teased you further, making you whine. Though it was mixed with a moan as he slowed his thrusts down, focusing on going deeper. He was reaching the spot that had your thighs twitching with pleasure. That, plus the toying of your clit, was bringing you so close. He could practically taste your orgasm.

“Chan, don’t-“

“Uh uh, say it again, ________. Who’s your daddy? Come on, make my day, princess.“

“Fuck- You are,” you repeated, a little louder as your orgasm came rolling down and out of your pussy. Your cunt throbbed and clenched around him, and he finally allowed himself to cum with you. Your two essences became one as they coated his cock, making a mess between his thighs and yours (and the sheets, unfortunately).

“That’s right,” he whispered, but you picked it up. He let out a laugh as you pinched his waist.

“You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?” you asked while he kissed your cheek.

“Absolutely not.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle

[monst]

Locked in

Dick Grayson x Gn. Reader

Extra: Fluff, And very mild taco sauce angst

     You were content with watching him from your spot on the couch, Haley’s head on your lap while you gave her scritches. You hadn’t seen him in a while. An off-planet Titan’s mission that kept him from your grasp for longer than both of you expected. And to no one's surprise, he’s returned to more work. You admired his work ethic but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish he’d take it easy. 

     “I hope you’re thinking of me over there~” You heard him chime from his seat at the kitchen table. 

     “Kinda.” you sniff “I’m thinking of how peacefully quiet it was when you were gone.” 

     “Ouch,” He laughs. “And here I was, thinking of you~” You know that tone, and you know he’s baiting you into feeling bad. And it’s working. You try your luck and peek up from petting Haley. You breathe out through your nose at the look he’s giving you. Big blue eyes fraught with faux sadness, His pretty lips pursed in a tempting pout. You crack when he furrows his brows looking utterly pitiful. With an exaggerated huff, you relent. 

      But you aren’t going to make it easy for him. You bite your lip looking between the doggo’s ears and fluttering your lashes at him shyly. “I missed you.” You don’t quite manage the coy tone you were aiming for, you're too earnest, as it’s the truth. You did miss him. A lot. His act drops instantly. The lines around his mouth pinch and he averts his gaze. 

     “But not that much.” You add. “I really enjoyed being able to use a blanket.” You lay the breadcrumbs and the Robin pecks. 

     “You’re saying I hog the sheets?!” He scoffs mock offense dripping from each syllable. You don’t waste time quickly narrowing your eyes, the memories of shivering in the night as he steals them away aren’t that far away! He’s raising his arms in defense “Okay so maybe I do… sometimes.” 

     “Sometimes?” You press. 

     “Well, I haven’t recently.” He grins, but there’s a tightness to the corners of his eyes as the joke slips past. 

     “Well, you're here to steal them now…” 

      You can tell that it’s still eating at him. Always feeling guilty that man, you roll your eyes fondly. His bad habits have grown on you too much for you to resent them. However, knowing him he’ll try to make it up to you even if you’re not bothered. You knew what you were getting into when you cast your lot with him. And you know you’ll let him play out his ‘atonement.’

      “Can I make it up to you?” And there it was. 

      “Yeah, you can start by finishing up over there so that you can come cuddle us.” You can see the tension melt from his shoulders at your words. And the sounds of his fingers against the keyboard resume. You yawn into your hand after a few minutes, your eyelids heavy. 

       “Or..” You look over to see his eyes already on you. “You can come here and cuddle me while I work?” He’s batting those pretty eyes at you as if you're not already unfolding your legs and standing. You leave the puppy to sleep as you leave the living room. Your hands slide across his back and over his broad shoulders. You kiss his cheek, laughing when he grumbles about you missing. 

      “As nice as this is, this isn’t what I meant.” He hums. His calloused palms grasp your forearm and you allow him to position you in front of him. He uses his legs to push the chair from under the wooden table. 

      “Dick.” You begin. 

      “I missed you too.” he cut in, patting his lap to drive his point home. “And it’s late, what if you fall asleep and we can’t cuddle?” He’s giving you that look again. All innocent and boy Scout blue and you're instantly suspicious. 

      “Fine. But I don’t see how you're going to get anything done like this.” You climb onto his lap and his arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer. “And no funny business” you add trying not to brush against his fresh wounds. He lets out a sulky ‘Aw man’ before he shuffles you both forward until you feel the wood resting against your back. His head is over your shoulder as he continues to type. Slower than he would have before, due to the awkward angle. You almost fall asleep that way, the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours, the rhythmic tapping of the keys. That is until you feel his lips against your head. 

   “‘m sorry.” 

   “Nothing to be sorry for.” You yawn, your fingers playing with his hair. 

   “You deserve a present partner.” He mumbles. 

   “And you, a patient one, Pumpkin I do miss you when you're gone but I Swear that I don't mind waiting” Your lips press against his scratchy stubble. “Not when I know you always come back.” You both ignore the blaring siren of what his not returning would mean. “‘Told you I'm locked in, are you?”

      He smiled, kissing your temple. “Always angel.” You'd have this conversation again. When he comes back to you from yet another mission all banged up and guilty. Absolutely no doubt about it. But you're here to stay, for as long as you have together, you’re locked in. 

[daddyricsdoll]

You ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: You had adapted to what Ollie needed but recently you had noticed there was something else, and obviously you planned on conquering it.

Warnings: Unprotected sex

Word count: 1k

A/N: Based off of this request. It did happen to come out shorter than expected but I hope you still like it.

“What do you think about the dress?” I ask as I slowly make my way out of the bathroom and toward Ollie. He grins and stands up to trace my curves with the palm of his hands, fingers delicately sliding across my clothed skin. A little groan leaves Ollie’s throat. “Do you have to go out? Can’t you stay with me?” He pulls me closer to his body with his hands firmly splayed on my ass. 

“Ollieeeee, I already told them I’m coming. And I’ve spent the whole day with you on my arm, just give me a couple of hours.”

“But you just saw them, are you sure it’s just your friends?” Ollie rests his chin on my head and one hand glides up my back and wraps around me to hold my waist. 

“Of course it’s my friends, why wouldn’t it be? I love you Ollie, do you know that?” 

“I-yeah, I know. You just look too gorgeous to go out with just your friends.”

“Well thank you, and I’ll dress like this when we go out together ok?” I grin and reassure him, overtime I’ve learnt what he needs, but there’s been a little addition to that list, and I plan to find that out. He holds me tight in his warm arms and we stay together until the pattern of our breathing matches and the only thing that fills our nostrils is the scent of the other. 

Ollie drives me to the venue and he waits till one of my friends arrives before he leaves, but not without a lingering kiss and brush of a hand against my thigh. 

Every once in a while I receive a message from him, asking if I’m ok and having a good time. I can’t help but giggle and send him a perfectly detailed reply before sending him an abundance of heart emojis and “I love yous”. 

Knackered is the perfect word to describe how I felt when Ollie picked me up that I fell asleep to the sound of his voice and touch of his hand. But then woke up with his hand shifted dangerously close to the one spot between my thighs that he hadn’t made contact with yet, but I was sure it would change soon.

He insisted on helping me get ready for bed, since my idea was to just flop on it and magically wake up between the sheets and perfect like Aurora. The thought that he would see me nearly naked didn’t pass my mind until I was sure I heard a groan and hushed curse leave his oh so luscious lips. 

“You ok?” I ask him in a soft voice and lazy eyes. His reply is a hum and “Yeah, I just um- I really love you and you look really beautiful and we’ve been together for how long? Really long and we’ve done a lot but there’s also quite a few things we haven’t done…” Ollie trails off and continues assisting me. “And what haven’t we done?”

“You know, what people in relationships do.” He keeps his answer more vague than I had hoped and in the minute it takes for us to get into bed I also hope he can give the answer through his lips and not the bulge in his pants. 

Unsurprisingly once we get under the blanket and tangled between the others arms our lips find each other too. Ollie's hand weaves into my hair and he pulls my head closer to his, resulting in an exchange of moans from the both of us. He bites my lip as I slowly break the kiss.

“What do you want?” I question him and the answer leaves his mouth smoother than I had expected. “You.” The one word initiates both of us to get invested in the taste of each other's lips and every inch of skin we can stroke. 

Ollie’s body envelopes mine before he lifts himself up to discard my shirt along with his. I mentally claim I’ll never get over the sound of his groans and the new feeling of his lips secured around my nipple is a sensation I beg to feel more than this once.

I could assume he had done this many times as he doesn’t let the rest of my body get cold, thumb circling my other nipple. Involuntarily my body arches and it gives Ollie the chance to leave the clothes that still stick on my body a place with my solitary shirt. 

He looks up at me and when my eyes flicker down he knows what I want. His grey sweatpants soon lay on the floor with my clothes and my core throbs as my eyes make contact with his dick and the realisation of what comes next brings a short moan to my lips.

His brown eyes looked into mine for permission and my nod was all he needed to lift my hips up and slowly inch into me. There was no way we could suppress our moans as our desires reached the beginning of its completion for the night. My raised hips made the contact of his tip and my one sensitive spot inevitable and striking. Each thrust got progressively quicker before he found the right pace and kept me pleased at every second. 

“I waited so long to feel you like this” He groans deeply, centimetres from my lips. I close the gap and fireworks explode as our lips collide and so do our hips. Each singular movement forces the rest of our bodies to move. 

My climax creeps up on me and in seconds I whine, hips somehow raising at the command of my pliant legs. It doesn’t take long until Ollie ultimately cums in a long thrust and groan. He rides both of our highs out and then collapses on me. It doesn’t take long until my fluttering eyelids close and he pulls out to clean me up. Although I may be unconscious I feel his warmth when he enters the bed next to me then engulfs me in his arms. Easing into the night together, always and hopefully forever.

[sansaorgana]

Hi! It's anon from the period thoughts hehe! I think you're spot on with all of that! Thank you :) Any chance you can do a fic with it?

Gale w/a girlfriend or wife that's having awful period cramps/day?

hiii 😘 guess who started her period today? ME 🤣 when I realised this request is next in the line to be written I laughed 😛 because it's something I'm going through at the moment, I got a bit carried away and it's quite long for a cute little fic like that haha 🥰

I have about 10 MOTA requests to write in my inbox 😅 so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that requests for Feyd are open now, too 🤩

You were laying on the couch under a blanket, mindlessly watching the TV with your eyes hazy from the painkiller you had taken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working for the pain but it was making you feel even more dazed out.

When you heard the front door opening, you sensed the feeling of guilt forming a knot in your stomach. Buck was coming back home after work and not only his house hadn’t been cleaned but also there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. You hoped he’d survive on the sandwiches but you felt bad for him.

“I’m back!” He announced his arrival but you didn’t move. You simply couldn’t.

You heard him undressing and taking his shoes off before peeking into the living room and looking at the TV.

“You’re watching this?” He asked surprised. Well, the program was stupid as hell and you were aware of it.

“I don’t want to but I can’t move to turn it off,” you admitted in a raspy, tired voice.

“Are you okay?” Buck furrowed his brows and approached the TV. He crouched down and turned it off.

“Thank you, it was starting to give me a migraine,” you admitted with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He turned around to face you. 

“I’m sorry, I have those days,” you explained.

“What days, love?”

“Ugh…” You winced at one of the cramps. “Code red, Gale. Those days,” you specified.

“Oh,” he straightened himself and put his hands on his hips, getting visibly awkward. “What can I do for you? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, it does. Just leave me here alone…” You mumbled. “And don’t get angry at me because I haven’t done anything around the house. Haven’t cooked anything either,” you lowered your voice, a little scared of his reaction.

You didn’t expect your husband to be angry about such a thing. He was not like most men. But he still could get a little frustrated and irritated. You wouldn’t blame him for that but it would still feel awful to disappoint him like that.

“Hey, you don’t feel good, it’s fine,” Buck only said. “I can make myself sandwiches,” he shrugged his arms. “Have you eaten anything?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you answered. “I took a painkiller but it’s not helping. It made me hazy, though.”

Buck stood there in silence for a while, looking as if he was thinking intensely about something.

“I have an idea,” he said finally. “Are you allowed to take baths in your state?” He asked and you laughed at him.

“Jesus, Gale, can you imagine not being allowed to take a bath when you’re bleeding for a few days straight?” You asked and he blushed adorably. It was quite cute how he was feeling uncomfortable with the subject of periods and how little he did know about them… yet, he still tried to help.

“Let’s run you a bath then,” he nodded.

“Gale, please…” You sighed. “Baby, you’re tired after work. Just make yourself sandwiches and get some rest, too,” you tried to stop him.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Come,” he approached you and picked you up bridal style with the blanket still around you. You squeezed it in your fist so it wouldn’t fall down and let him carry you to the bathroom upstairs.

Buck sat you carefully on the closed toilet seat and turned the faucet on to fill the bathtub with the warm water. He opened one of the drawers of your bathroom cabinet and hummed to himself.

“What kind of bath do you want?” He asked, unsurely.

“What do you mean by that?” You leaned back, resting your head on the cold bathroom tiles.

“You have all sorts of things here… Rose, lavender, vanilla…” He read the words on the bottles of your bath oils.

“Lavender helps,” you told him and Buck nodded his head.

He took the bottle out and you watched him carefully tilting it above the bathtub… only to pour half of it inside the water. You gasped.

“What?” He turned his head around, startled by the sound leaving your mouth.

“You’re supposed to add a few drops…” You sighed, too tired to get annoyed. Also, getting annoyed when he was trying so hard to help you would be simply unfair.

“I’m sorry… Should I run another bath now?” He asked.

“Don’t be crazy. You’ve no idea how much money you’ve just poured down there,” you let out a tired chuckle.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Buck closed the lid and put the bottle back in the drawer. “But is it safe to bathe in it now?”

“Only one way to find out, is it?” You shrugged your arms.

Buck approached you to help you stand up but you shook your head.

“No, no,” you stood up by yourself on shaky legs. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see…” You explained shyly.

“It’s just some blood, I can handle it, baby,” he assured you but he was blushing again.

“Please, just leave me here and go downstairs to eat something,” you told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I’ll go to the store,” he stated. “I’ll buy us some proper dinner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You won’t drown in the meantime, will you?”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not a baby,” you smiled at him and he nodded.

Buck left the bathroom and when you were left alone there, you allowed the blanket to fall down on the floor. Then you got rid of the rest of the clothes and went inside the bathtub, sighing out of relief at the feeling of the warm water.

You were sitting there for so long that the water turned cold, however you felt too comfortable to leave. It was Buck’s soft knocking upon the door that made you finally move.

“I’m back. Are you alive there?” He asked through the door.

“Yes, I’m about to leave now,” you answered.

“Alright. I have chicken,” he told you. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You heard his footsteps going downstairs as you watched the water go down the drain before you stood up, grabbed a towel and dried yourself before putting dark underwear, a black nightgown and a robe that you had in the bathroom cabinet. You put the dress and underwear you had been wearing earlier to the laundry bin and picked up the blanket to fold it and take it with you downstairs to put it back in the living room.

You felt so much better after your bath, you had to admit it. Your hair was wet but you didn’t bother with drying it. It was around six in the evening and you already looked like you were about to go to sleep but you knew that Buck wouldn’t mind that at all.

And indeed, when you walked inside the kitchen, he didn’t even ask about it nor furrowed his brows at your nighttime attire. There was a chicken with mashed potatoes and a salad on the table already, alongside the tea he had made for you.

“I bought more of that lavender oil so you don’t run out of it,” Buck pointed at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter. “And something sweet for you,” he added. “The lady at the store was nosy, she asked me why I was buying chicken for dinner and was my wife sick so I told her the truth and she told me women like sweets when they have… those days,” his cheeks turned pink as he moved the chair for you and you sat down with a smile.

“She was right,” you told him. 

“Oh, good, for a while I was scared she just wanted to swindle me to spend more money,” Buck chuckled and took a seat in front of you. “So, after all, she was helpful.”

“Yeah, I know what nosy lady you’re talking about,” you nodded at him. “She’s annoying but she’s also sweet. Hard to explain,” you giggled.

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel much better, thank you,” you nodded and reached your hand out to caress his and give it a light squeeze before you both started to eat the chicken.

Buck was telling you about his day at work and you were listening with a slight smile. You would usually comment and ask questions or gasp at some things, demanding to know more gossip. But today you were just nodding your head and smiling, still listening but less attentively.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you’d rather eat in silence. You’ve mentioned getting a migraine before,” Buck shut his mouth suddenly.

“I would have told you if I wanted you to be quiet, baby. It’s fine,” you assured him. “And the migraine is gone now. The bath really helped me.”

“Well… I think I’ve already said everything anyway,” he laughed and stood up to get the empty plates from the table to put them in the sink. “I will wash them and you go upstairs and lay in bed. I’ll bring you the dessert when I’m done.”

“You’re absolutely the sweetest, you know that?” You asked him. 

“I’m only taking care of you, darling. Like husbands do. You take care of me, too. Every day,” he looked like he didn’t understand why you were so grateful and it was making him even more special.

And he didn’t even know.

You wondered if his heart was truly so pure that he had no idea how other men could treat their wives. Whenever someone would mention some dreadful story of this sort, Buck would always widen his eyes as if he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he was truly that innocent and oblivious. Or he just couldn’t imagine being so cruel. Either way, he was a gem.

“I just love you so much,” you whispered, getting emotional. Most likely from the hormones.

“I love you, too,” he answered, a bit surprised. “Go upstairs, baby. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I will manage,” you stood up and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

In fact, you’d love him to carry you. But you didn’t want to bother him too much. So you just went to the bedroom and then you sighed at the sight of the freshly put white sheets. You had changed them in the morning, stupidly forgetting about your period coming soon.

With a grunt, you started to take them off. Your moves were slow and when Buck joined you upstairs, you were almost done.

“What are you doing?” He widened his eyes and put the tray he had been holding in his hands down on the vanity table.

“I put them on this morning but I have to change them now. I don’t want to stain them with blood,” you explained.

“You should have waited for me, I’ll do that,” Buck approached you and took the sheets from your hands. “Give that to me.”

“Buck, you’re a sweetheart, but I’m not dying or sick. I can do that, really,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not like it’s my first time having those days,” you explained, carefully avoiding the word period around him because you could only imagine how uncomfortable it would make him feel.

“You can help,” he agreed. “Give me the sheets you want me to put on,” he pointed to the wardrobe with his chin and you rolled your eyes before opening it and handing him the dark navy blue sheets. He gave you back the white ones and you folded them before putting them back.

When the bed was made, you sat under the cover and rested on the pillow. Your husband placed the tray in front of you and you smiled at the sight of a cake and some ice cream.

“Is it alright?” Buck asked.

“Yes, yes, it is,” you nodded with a smile and started to eat.

“By the way, I’m totally getting you a dishwasher,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed your wet hair.

“Are you crazy? They're expensive!” You protested.

“But it’s going to make your life easier,” Buck pinched your cheek playfully. “You can’t say no, by the way, I’ve already made my decision.”

You didn’t say anything then and just finished eating as he watched you with admiration in his eyes. You offered him a few bites and he agreed to take them but most of the dessert was yours to eat on your own. When you were finished, you laid down, ready to take a nap. Buck took the tray from the bed and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered softly.

“Well, then, my dreams better be of you,” you smiled at him lovingly, “if you want them to be sweet.”

Buck winked at you and went back downstairs to take the tray down. You were starting to fall asleep by the time he was back to lay down next to you and hold you close, making you feel loved and taken care of.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[saradika]

— only if for a night

[series masterlist]

din djarin x f!reader

Rated E - 6.5k

Tags: spoilers for 03.01, neighbor!din, established past encounter, flirting / mutual yearning, hot springs makeout, soft dom!din, outercourse, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, PiV

A/N: based on that little line from s03.01 about the hot springs. Many liberties taken with the creed.

When it appears the droid repair will take longer than expected, Din finds himself taking Karga up on the offer for the parcel of land.

And when you go to give your new neighbor a warm welcome - you never imagine that it would be the very man you haven’t been to stop thinking about.

He’d never been all that great at saying no.

It was easy when he was on the job - dealing with strangers. Questions rarely came when the saw him as just a symbol. Something to be feared.

A Mandalorian.

When it was a friend… well, that was a different story. Somehow, Karga had gotten under his skin. Twisting words around until he found himself agreeing to that parcel of land, out by the flats.

His stay was only temporary. That, he made sure of to mention. More than once, each time more firmly.

“Ah, but you always come back.” Karga had smiled, while they overlooked the city, “I know you have your business to attend to.”

Glancing down at Grogu, still spinning in the chair, “But wouldn’t it be nice to have a home to return to? To know you have a place, here?”

“I’ll think about it.” He had hedged, hands braced on his hips.

Somewhere along their walk later - their path had changed. Through the center of town, past the now deconstructed monument.

Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the tidy hut - Grogu wandering through the back door and into the sizable yard, as he found himself signing the deed.

“We’ll worry about the details later.” Karga had winked - and then he was gone.

Leaving Din alone, in his new space. Half-exasperated as he checks through the rooms.

A living space that flows into a small kitchen. Smoothed stone walls, a hallway that leads to a bathroom, with a full-sized sonic. The sharp right curve as the building continues back - a master bedroom taking up the last third of the L-shaped unit.

It might be nice to have a private place to sleep for a few days, while he waited for IG-11 to be repaired. His legs and back aching from sleeping in the starfighter.

And he’s never loved inns. Never trusted them completely - not even on Nevarro.

A small head peeks around the doorway, as he stands in the middle of the bedroom. The cotton curtains fluttering with the breeze, a view of the hot springs and the thick line of trees visible from the open window.

“What do you think, kid?” He finds himself asking.

Grogu coos happily, and his lips curve underneath his helmet.

“Yeah.” He hums. “I think so, too.”

———

“Finally sold that place, next to yours.”

You frown, glancing up from your datapad. Feet kicked up on the desk in your office, catching up on comms.

The news is unexpected, you hadn’t known anyone was looking at the property. Karga hadn’t pressed for you to put out any advertisements in the past couple weeks. Acted like he’s been saving it - but for what, you didn’t know.

“Would say I’m glad, but I was getting used to the private hot springs access.” You smile, removing your feet, pushing yourself up to greet him, “You need me to get the paperwork together?”

“No need, I handled it.”

That makes your eyebrow raise. Karga had certainly done a lot for Nevarro. The green trees outside - the expansion of the city - was more than enough proof.

But you had never seen him handle any of the minute details. Never had been his style.

No, that was your job.

“I’d like you to stop by though.” He says, fingers stroking the white bristles of his beard, “Make sure he’s doing alright. Explain about the expansions, I didn’t get a chance to cover that part.”

“Sure thing.” You nod, already collecting your things, “You know I would anyways, since he’s my neighbor and all.”

But Karga’s focus on this new buyer nudges at your attention - a beat passing, before you add, “Is it someone high profile? Should I know them?”

His answering look is knowing. And cryptic, as only he can be, “Something like that.”

Leaving your office with an amused smile - and you more curious than ever.

———

Your fist raps twice on the closed blast door. A hand smoothing down the front of your tunic, wrinkled with your brisk walk over from the office. The basket tucked under your arm, filled to the brim with goodies hand-picked from "the stash".

A crate stored in one of Karga's many rooms, filled with gifts from shops in town, potential business partners, visiting travellers.

Anything expensive he accepted for himself - the rest you collect, with the dual purpose of handling it for him, and finding a use for the item.

Creating welcome kits for all those who are new to the city, things to make their houses feel more like homes. Blankets to fend off the evening chill. Vouchers for a warm meal at the local cantina. Dried meats and fruits - trinkets for the children if there are any.

Fingers crossed that your new neighbor is someone nice. Not like that Weequay you had roomed next to when you had lived downtown - keeping you up late with their band practice. Chords loudly strum on their hallisket, somehow always off-key. Overly rude, whenever you had gently tried to bring it up.

Back then, you woke with the dawn, due down at the new school just after daybreak. Rough did not even begin to cover it.

Moving out here, the change in your duties, had been nice. Certainly a walk every morning, but the privacy was well appreciated.

Quiet nights after spending the day keeping up with the whirlwind that was Greef Karga. Soaking away the stress in the small clusters of hot springs that make their way along the flats.

No one answers, so you inch around the side of the building to check the back. One of the many bonuses about being this far out - the large yards and extra space. Past the narrow landing pad - the shining chrome ship that rests on it.

Your nose wrinkles at the sleek lines, the overall ostentation.

Stars, if it's another 'Karga'...

Pushing the thought aside as you call out, ahead, "Hello! Anyone home?"

"Back here." A voice replies, sounding muffled.

You’re rounding the corner of the hut, when you freeze. Only the vice-like grip on the handle keeping the basket from tumbling across the stone patio.

Because you do know him.

Intimately.

Though it’s been a while. Over a year, maybe two?

But there was no mistaking the shine of his silver armor. The little friend that’s still by his side.

“Oh.” You greet him, intelligently.

His helmet turns at your voice, his own form going still for a long moment. The child lets out a coo, his small head turning as he leans over the edge of the water, splashing the surface.

“Hi. Karga sent me over. I mean, I would have come anyways.” You clear your throat as you find your voice - hiking a thumb over your shoulder, “Seeing as we’re neighbors, and all.”

“Neighbors.” He repeats, his voice a low monotone.

It’s so strange to hear it again.

You’d spent ages thinking about it. About that night. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than blowing off steam.

Back then, you had still worked at the school. Filling in as the teaching droid became accustomed to the class - still developing the emotional intelligence part of its AI.

You had been an aide, making sure things ran smoothly. And it had, until those few days that the Child had been in attendance.

It still makes you smile to remember the bits of blue cookie smeared on his face.

That’s when you had met the Mandalorian, picking up his child. And then running into him again, later at the cantina.

Ending up in his ship, even later after that. Staying longer than you meant to, until the indigo sky was streaked with pink and grey.

You still think about the cold bite of his armor against your bare skin. The low rasp of his voice, lips forming around rough words of praise that had burrowed into your brain.

Just one night, but it had stayed in your memory for the hundreds that came after.

“Uh, yes.” You snap back to reality, as you jiggle the basket. Walking over, because it was too late to flee - setting it down on the low stone table.

Your face heats - you're not sure how to word this. Unsure if it was more awkward to get out with it, or pretend like this was the first time you’ve met.

After a moment, you make your decision. Better to just be honest.

Your hand extends, as you give him your name. A small cringe of a smile, as you hedge, "I don't know if you remember-"

His answer cuts you off, as his hand takes yours, "I do."

Oh.

The vocoder makes it impossible to tell the exact tone of his response. If it was a good memory, or if he was disappointed in this strange reunion.

You’re saved from the awkwardness of not knowing, when the child toddles over. A wide grin spreads over your face, plucking a treat out of the basket.

“Just look at you!” Sinking to your knees - you glance up, before handing the piece of candy over, “Is this okay?”

The Mandalorian’s head dips in a nod, a heat in your cheeks as you turn back. Placing it into the little outstretched hands, as you marvel.

“You’ve really grown!”

His ears wiggle, the peek of his teeth as he smiles.

Not bigger, but certainly more confident. A sweetness shining, more certain of the steps he takes. A tightness in your chest, as he shows it to Mando - clutched tight in his fist.

“That’s right.” He replies patiently, “Tell her ‘thank you’, Grogu.”

Grogu makes a sound that could pass as a thanks, making his way to the rock border of the small garden.

Leaving you looking up at the Mandalorian. The angle doing something to you - all that shining armor. You on your knees.

His head, still tilting down. Cocked, your way.

But then, you’re remembering why you’re there. Pushing yourself to your feet, burning with embarrassment.

“Uh, right. The details.” You rush, turning away. Back towards the border of the property, your finger pointing, “The hot springs runs through your back yard and mine. Some huts are lucky enough to have their own.”

A shrug, as you turn back, “But most have to share. It’s great this time of year, it gets chilly at night. He’ll love it.”

Your head tilts towards Grogu, still munching away. Mando nods, slowly walking over to stand beside you, looking out at the natural springs. The thick trees above, making a sort of barrier to the huts behind it.

“Oh, and your house.”

The last detail.

“They’re built so you can add on. It’s a good size for one right now. But if you need more space there’s room on the sides, or add another floor.” You gesture to the spots, so he can picture the expansion.

“Should be pretty easy. You would just tell me or Karga, and there’s a couple droids that have it down to a science.”

His head tilting to look where you point. A beat, before he asks, “Have you added onto yours?”

Your eyes meet his visor, surprised.

Lips pressing together as you think about it, your head shaking. Smiling sheepishly.

“No. Like I said… it’s uh, good for one.”

He hums at that, but doesn’t ask anything else. Nor does he look away, his hands resting on his hips.

A dozen questions on the tip of your tongue. Holding them back because you’re not sure how to ask them. Not wanting the answer to be different from what you’re hoping.

So instead, you just smile.

“The last step is usually a tour, but I’m sure we can skip that part. Wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time.”

There’s a beat, while he seems to think about it. A hesitance, before he nods.

“Right. Thank you, we should be fine.”

Almost a reluctance.

But you’re certain you’re imagining it.

———

It’s lucky that he didn’t take you up on the tour. You barely make the walk back to your house before your comm is beeping - an emergency that has you running back into town.

A no-show from a contractor, for a job that needed to be done today. The afternoon is spent with your sleeves rolled up, helping out yourself, the work bleeding into the evening.

The morning becoming a blur, as you drag yourself home. Just thinking about sinking into the springs for a couple minutes, resting your aching feet.

Grabbing a ration bar as you change into one of your suits, your robe and a towel thrown over your shoulder. Leaving the door open, letting the cool night air into your house as you head towards the back.

Your things dumped on a low wooden bench, as you stretch - arms high above you head. A low, throaty groan as you step into the hot water, finding your favorite nook to rest in.

It’s only then, in the water with the skies above, that you think about the Mandalorian. A thrill at seeing him again, even if it didn’t go anywhere.

With his line of work, you can’t pretend you weren’t worried. Hadn’t been thinking about him, hoping he and his son were alright.

Hoping for other things, as well.

When your eyes finally open - you freeze.

The object of your affections sitting a few yards away from you, supplies spread out on the stone table. In the middle of cleaning a long rifle, a piece of cloth in his hands.

Seemingly frozen as well, his helmet tipped your way. The moment stretching out, until you’re letting out a little “oh”, dipping down into the water.

“Sorry,” You give him a little wave - unsure what else to do, “Didn’t see you out here.”

Moving closer to the edge, your hands bracing on the raised lip, “I can go. Long day, just needed a minute.”

“No.” He shifts then, a gloved hand going flat, “Please, stay.”

You’re pleased. To continue soaking, and to continue taking him in. Your chin resting on the curl of your fingers, watching him work.

It’s quiet - the rustle of the leaves above. A chirp of the crickets, the summer days starting to tip into autumn.

“What happened today?” Mando asks you, your head lifting.

Frowning - the question loaded. Did he mean earlier? Like, when you first rounded the corner into his backyard?

He takes pity on you, “You said today was long.”

“Mmm.” You sigh, now understanding. Biting back a smile, pleased that he’s asking about you, “I guess it wasn’t too bad. Just putting out a few fires for Karga.”

He hums, like he understands your implication.

But then, you’re remembering that he’s friends with him. Your nose crinkles, “Not that I am complaining. He’s done a lot for this city, we’re all grateful.”

“You can be honest with me.” His tone sounds amused, and you relax.

The tools set down, as he moves closer. The slow creak of his armor, the overhead lights glinting as he lower himself to one of the chairs that rest close to the edge.

Close enough that he could step into the water, the steam that rises up in the chilly evening air. His helmet tipping down to where you sit.

Your eyebrow lifts, “You thinking about coming in? I can close my eyes for you.”

Remembering what he said, before. The reason why he stayed wrapped in his armor, his helmet always firmly fixed in place.

His head tilts, considering. A long moment - as you hope - before he answers.

“Not tonight.”

The disappointment pools in your belly - but you move on quickly as he asks, “How long have you been working for him? I didn’t see you at the school.”

He had looked. That moment when he walked through town - later, when they ran into the pirates. A worry, fueling him to act when they had threatened to take that drink in the renovated building, where the old saloon used to dwell.

The disappointment melts into fondness, “A while. Close to a year? It’s fun, he can just be a lot, you know?”

He makes a sound of agreement, knowing full well.

“Very convincing and influential. I find myself doing all kinds of stuff just because he asks,” You laugh, your chin cupped in your hand, “He’s got his eyes on some big prizes. High Magistrate. Mining and trade routes.”

Your gaze drifts, going far away, “It’s great for the city. The expansion, all the money coming in. He loves it. The job, the finery of it all. But, personally… I’m not sure it’s what I want.”

The words trail off, as you get lost.

“What do you want?” His voice brings you back.

You blink, looking up at him, “I just want a place to call my own. Something just for me.”

Head tilting towards you little hut, as you start to feel a little self-conscious, “I’m sure that sounds stupid.”

His helmet stays focused on you, as he answers.

“No. I think I understand.”

———

When it came to this hut, he had floundered. Finding himself agreeing, even though he knew he’d be gone again in days. Now, there’s a question that lingers. Heavy on his mind and heart as the hours bleed into the next.

But this time, he knows what he wants. When the question comes, he’ll have the answer.

The next evening, he’s waiting for you.

Surprising you, seeing him in just the flightsuit, as you exit your hut. Pausing mid-step when you see how he lingers. Self-conscious now, in his own way.

Your question comes, again.

“You coming in?”

This time, he nods. Fingers lingering at the zipper on his chest - the anticipation curling in your stomach as you watch.

His hands going still. Wanting this, but the sting of his betrayal to the creed is still a fresh, aching wound. Letting someone see his face. Even though it was the only way.

You head inclines towards a spot in the back of the springs. Where the trees are thick, blocking out the twinkling stars above.

“I can wait there.” You tell him, “I won’t look.”

It’s the last assurance he needs.

He nods.

Making you way to the back, sinking down into the springs. Nervous and excited and thrilled, as you find the spot - where he joins you soon after.

Helmet still on, you can hear the buzz of his groan as the hot water hits his skin. Easing the aches in his back, from the hours of flying.

It’s a little narrow for two, but you fit together - facing each other, under the trees. Where the night and the shadow of the branches weave together - until you can only see the soft, loose outline of his shape.

You can’t believe he got in. Fingers itching to reach out and touch - but you hold back. Still not knowing how he feels, if he wants the same thing as you.

Instead, you fill the silence with soft questions. About him this time - where he’s been, what’s happened since you last saw him.

Some of the tension easing.

And slowly, he tells you. How they became separated. How he had gotten him back, only for the reunion to be cut short. Never saying how the absence effected him - but after seeing their bond today, you knew it had to be hard.

Finally, about their reunion.

With each story, each confession - you find yourselves moving closer. Inching along the natural stone seating until the feet of space dwindle down to mere inches between you.

You wonder if he can hear your heart. The way it thuds in your chest, as his knee brushes yours.

It’s quiet now, other than the ripple of water as your leg stretches out - foot resting on the outcropping of rock he sits on.

"I'm not staying long. Just a few days." The rasp of his voice breaks the silence. His leg brushes yours again.

A soft warning. Letting you know that this would be like last time.

But it’s not the same. Not really.

Your lips press together - the peek of your tongue as you wet them, "You'll be back. You just bought a house here."

"Yes.” He acknowledges, “But I don't know when-“

“I don’t mind”. Your own confession comes easily, in the dark. Leg shifting until your foot taps against his thigh, against bare skin, "Stop overthinking things. When was the last time you had some fun?"

There’s a low breath at your question, a buzz through his vocoder.

"Not since I last saw you."

You know he doesn't mean yesterday. The tickle in your stomach turns into full-on butterflies as your fingers drift - bridging the small gap between you. Finding his on the stone.

Fingertips dragging across knuckles, the back of his hand. Against smooth, bare skin. Before he moves - his hand curling around your wrist, tugging you forward.

A startled yelp as he hauls you into his lap, your thighs bracketing his - shins pressing into the bench beneath you.

Hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders. His own slowly sliding over your thighs, up to your hips. Fingers kneading soft flesh as you shift, fitting yourself snug against him.

Feeling him.

The clothed, thick curve that’s pressing against your core. A soft sound in your throat as you rock your hips unconsciously against his cock, finally putting pressure on the spot that has been aching for him.

“Maybe you can remind me how.” He rasps, his own hips tilting up, grinding.

Your laugh is strangled as you meet him. Relief in many more ways than one as you brace your hands on his shoulders. Moving more purposely this time as you roll your hips.

Finding the spot that makes you shudder, nails sinking into his skin. His own hands grasping at you, the sharp hiss of breath through his helmet.

It’s too dark to see more than outlines, but you still find his visor. Trying to imagine where his eyes would be, before yours drop down - admiring the rare glimpse of his neck.

His shoulders, broad and strong. Fingers touching features you can’t make out - the coarse, peppered-grey curls on his chest. Decades of scars, each with a story. His form slightly softened by age, but still moving you effortlessly.

The grip on your hips loosen, a hand drifting up. Leaving droplets of water on your skin as his fingers skim your waist, then higher.

A knuckle brushing your breast, over the top of your suit. Teasing at the edge.

“Gods, yes.” You sigh, leaning back to give him room.

To watch him tug the cloth to the side, then down. Baring a breast, and then the other. Fingers dipping down to the water, dragging a wet thumb over the pebbled peak.

You’re clenching, your pace picking up. Leaning into his touch, grinding your pussy against him.

That low voice of his, encouraging you, “Keep riding me, mesh’la. Fuck, just like that.”

It makes you shudder. Pleasure coils in your head, the build-up making your thoughts hazy. So close to what you need, but not quite enough.

A frustrated whine slides through your teeth, your eyes lifting to his. A hand letting go to dip down, between your thighs - but he catches it with his own.

Bringing it back up to his shoulder, before his dips below the waistband. To where you’re wet, slick with arousal. Whimpering when his fingers circle your clit, making you mindless. Prone to babble, the words hushed in the quiet night.

“Stars, I missed you. Feel just as good as I remember.”

A beat, where his fingers linger. Just for a second, before he’s shifting beneath you - increasing the sweet pressure.

“You thought about this?”

Your eyelids flutter closed, your chest crushed against his. Feeling the slick slide of his fingers, exactly the touch you needed.

“Mhm. All the time.” The confession come easy, drunk as you are on pleasure, “How hard you made me come, how fucking good you are with your fingers.”

The praise sinks into his skin, smoothing over the thin cracks of insecurity. He had thought of you, too. Often.

Fucking his fist to the memory, so like the way your hand worked between your own thighs at night.

Just a night but it had felt like so much more. A connection.

He has you close. It almost feels like time is ticking down, each press of his fingers bringing you towards the end. An arm wraps around you, pinning you against him as you gasp.

More praise falling, just for him.

“Oh, you’re going to make me come. Just like that, please-”

His breath harsh as he concentrates, as your face buried into his neck. Muffling your cry as you’re brought over that edge, going stiff in his arms.

Gasping against his skin, as he coos in your ear. The words muted through the haze, buzzing against your skin. Finding bliss, in this dark corner of the springs.

A long moment of silence, as you find your limbs again.

“Did you mean what you said?” He asks, as your cheek presses against his helmet.

Cool against your hot skin, a soft sigh as you relax against him. Embarrassed, now your head is a little more clear, “What, that I fantasized about you?”

Mando makes a sound, a low laugh, “When you said you’d close your eyes. Did you mean that?”

Your head tilts back, so you can see him. Where his face would be, your palms skimming down his arms, “Yeah, I meant that.”

He stands then, taking you with him - your legs still hooked around his waist. Walking you to the side of the springs before your feet touch down, fingers curling around your wrist - tugging them up until your hand covers your eyes.

“Is your house the same as mine?”

Helping you out of the pool as you answer, his hand around your other wrist, “Mirrored.”

Guiding you to the back door, taking a second in the dark to wipe you both down with the towels you left.

Before he’s pulling you deeper, through the kitchen. Back to your bedroom. It’s still dark when your back is pressing against the matress, his hips between your thighs.

The light is low here. A string of ambient bulbs twinkling above your bed, casting the room in a soft glow. He pauses, as you shift below him.

Looking debauched, where you lay against the mattress. Bare legs, you core just covered by the cloth bottoms. The peek of flushed, tight nipples where he has tugged your top aside.

Practically begging for his mouth, the brush of his tongue.

He had been planning to take you in the darkness. Now, he can’t bear the thought of not being able to watch you fall apart with his own eyes.

“Can I blindfold you?” He husks, fingers trailing up your thighs.

You don’t know why he’s asking, but you agree, “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes.” The tips changing course, tracing the cut of your swimsuit, along the inside of your thigh, “Do you have something I could use?”

Already, the lack of sight has you on edge in the best way - your legs inching further apart. The hand not covering your eyes reaching up - searching beneath the nest of pillows.

Fingers catching on the elastic of the sleeping mask, as you tug it down. Another gift that Karga had discarded, one that found its way into your pocket, along with the matching silk robe, the jar of bath oils.

He helps you fit it into place, his thumb smoothing over your cheek - as your sight dissolves into true darkness.

Gasping, as he tugs at the ties of your top - baring you. A pneumatic hiss that you don’t recognize - ears straining as something heavy is set down on the side table.

The wet swipe of a tongue against the curve of your breast, flattening over your nipple. Wrapping around to suck, teeth just barely scraping the sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” You hiss, reaching for him. Grasping strong shoulders that hover over you, as his knuckles trap the other, gently pinching.

His helmet. He took it off, for you.

The weight of his actions crash into you, a tightness in your chest that has you gasping. His groan sounding pretty as presses an open-mouth kiss against your sternum, the sound unfiltered.

Another, as he moves down.

“Wanted to fuck you in the hot springs,” Fingers catch on the waistband of your suit bottoms, your hips lifting as he pulls them down, “Tug these off of you, just like this. Would you have let me?”

You moan, unable to help it - your answer eager, “Yes. Anything you want.”

He hums in approval - broad hands nudging under your thighs, another tug as he pulls you towards the edge of your bed.

Even with the mask your eyes close, a thrill of excitement as you wait for the press of his cock. Aching for him to fill you, your mind taking you back to last time.

How he had sunk into you. The sweet stretch until the cool armor on his thighs pressed against your skin from behind.

“But there’s something else I wanted more.” His voice breaks into your thoughts, bringing you back.

And it’s not his cock that kisses your cunt. It’s his lips, pressed against the slick, swollen flesh. Your hips flex as you whimper, his hand sliding to press against your stomach.

Pinning you down, as he groans against your pussy. Tongue pointing to flick against your clit before he pulls back. The scratch of facial hair against your thigh as he presses a kiss there.

“Thought about you, too. Dreamed about tasting your sweet little cunt. Making you come on my tongue.”

His mouth following his words, warm where the rest against your skin. Taking his time as he spreads you open with his fingers. Tongue tracing from the tight bud of your clit, down.

Pressing the tip into you. Tasting your release, your slick arousal, as you reach for him. Fingers sinking into soft curls - another realization, another small detail about him that you tuck inside your heart.

You tug on them as he sighs against you, fucking you with his tongue. Slipping back up to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, while his fingers nudge at you.

Sinking the tip of one inside, teasing. Knuckles deep in your greedy cunt - first one, and then another. A low hum against your slit as you whine. Fingers crooking against the spongey spot that had you keening last time.

The combination is too much. Senses heightened to an extreme - each messy flick and press of his tongue sending sparks down your spine to collect and pool low in your belly.

Hearing each and every groan he makes, the rough timbre of his voice. Your own moans joining his, twisting around each other like your fingers in his curls.

The words panted out, achingly desperate.

“Oh, fuck-”

“Please, right there-”

Each breath shorter than the last. Your hands scrambling, leaving his locks to grip onto the pillow, as your hips flex against his mouth.

His fingers pounding steadily against a spot that makes you see stars. Chin and lips smeared with your slick as he coaxes you over the edge.

“Osik. I can feel you clenching around my fingers, mesh’la.” He groans, eyes fixed on where you take him, the silky shine of his fingers.

Flicking up to your face - wanting to watch you fall apart for him with his own eyes, “Want you to come for me, want to feel you gush on my fingers.”

And with a gasp, you do.

Your senses fading to a buzzing, white noise as your hips lift off the bed. Coming hard, pulsing around thick fingers as he watches, tilting his head to press his tongue against your clit. Feeling you there, each little thud where he’s pressed flat against you.

Leaving you gasping, loose-limbed. The sound turning warm and happy with the elation that spreads, settling over your limbs.

His hand swipes across his chin, as he pushes himself up. Arms wrapping under your thighs again, scooting you back onto the bed.

Achingly hard as he peels off the bottoms he still wears. Slick-stained fingers wrapping around his cock, the rough groan of relief as he jerks from base to flushed tip.

More than pleased by the way he has you smiling. Contented and floating, just from his fingers - the inexperienced swipe of his tongue.

He’d learn, for you. Let your fingers twist in his hair, tug him to the right spot until it’s all that he knows.

For now, he soaks you in. His knees pressing into the bed, hoisting your thighs over them. Angling his cock down, to tap against your pussy - a string of your slick clinging to the tip.

“Fuck, just look at you.”

Feeling it’s wet heat, the way you’re arching into him already. Eyes greedy as he presses into you, watching the tip sink in.

How the tight grip of your cunt chokes him - inching in further, before he’s retreating. Pulling back, sliding the soaked tip across your folds again.

Your teeth grit, your hands searching for him. Curling around his wrists, as his hands hold your hips in place.

“Mando, please. Don’t tease me.”

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. Tonight, you’re his. Days of uncertainty - wondering if you had thought of him the way he did of you, culminating in this moment of desire that burns through him.

Not wanting to hear the name that follows him like a shadow.

“Din.” He grits out. Something tight in his chest loosening, “My name. It’s Din Djarin.”

Your lips wrap around the gift, making him throb when you parrot it back to him. That need making itself known, as he sinks into you again.

“Want you to stay it when you come.” His hands yank your hips, as his snap forward. Seating himself fully as you moan - as he buries his cock in you.

Din’s voice sounding tight, as he adds, “You got that?”

“Yes, Din.” You sigh dreamily, clenching around him as he moans.

Letting him set a rhythm that starts slow - lets you feel each inch as he drags himself out, before snapping in. Picking up as you cling to him, shifting until your legs are wrapping around his waist.

Hovering over you, tucking you beneath him as his hips snap against yours. Your hands wandering - sliding across his shoulders. Thumbs sweeping over the hollow of his throat, down through the coarse hair across his chest.

So much skin, bared for you to touch. You want to know every inch. Wish you could see - but you’re not that greedy. Happy to take this reunion for every ounce that it was.

But he leans into it. The warmth of your hand, the way your thighs wrap around him. That stiff hold of his shoulder and back loosening, as he lowers himself further.

Unable to resist the urge to see what it’s like. To press his lips against your cheek, feeling the bite of your fingernails when you sigh in surprise.

The whimper as he moves closer to your mouth, until his lips are ghosting over yours. Your head tilting up to chase him in the dark.

His name, once again.

“Din.”

There’s a snarl that rises in this chest. Muffled by the time it reaches to his throat, as his lips finally press against yours.

Starting slow, like the rut of his hips. Just a soft brush, before he draws back for a breath. Coming back for another, as you sigh and arch into him. Lips parting as his tongue brushes the seam, his hand slipping up to cup the back of your head.

He tastes like you. The sweet tang of your pussy on his tongue. Delving into your mouth as he fucks you, as you can do little more than just cling to him.

Soft moans and the needy press of your mouths layering with the wet sound of your joining. The angle stroking his cock against the spot that his fingers found, stealing your thoughts.

Not even realizing it’s your own voice, the panting “please, please-”. Each breath after a soft “oh” that gets sharper, higher, with each gasp.

“Fuck, that’s it.” The voice in your ear sends a thrill down your spine. Joining that familiar fire that pools in your belly, “You’re taking me so well. Are you going to come for me again?”

His lips press against your throat, where your heart flutters. Feeling the bitten-back whine, as your legs clench around him.

Bracing yourself for the pleasure that’s about to tear through you, the spark that starts down low before it races down your limbs.

“Give me one more, cyar’ika.” He rasps, and you can’t help but obey.

That strung-tight string snaps. His name a sob on your lips as the orgasm crashes over you. A pleased hum against your skin as his thrusts snap harder - the rhythm sloppy as you tremble in his embrace.

Din’s breath is hot against your neck, his forehead pressed to your cheek. Feeling the tight clench of your wet cunt around his cock - his fingers biting into your hip as he seeks his own end.

“Where do you want me?” He grits out, “I’m not going to last, feel so good-”

Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him deeper. Fingers lacing around his neck, the tip of one finding his curls again.

“Come in me.” You beg - hearing his rough groan at your words, “Still have the implant.”

“Fuck.”

He had felt it, last time. You had guided his fingers to the ridge beneath your skin, in that moment where you waited with baited breath for his cock to fill you.

Emptying himself the first time from behind, bent over some crates in the hull. The second, hours later. On your back, like this - but he had been armored then, your bare skin reflecting off the beskar as he stood between your thighs.

But now, your limbs are tangled. The heel of a foot pressed against his ass, his body rolling against yours. The messy press of his mouth against your skin.

A hiss, as he inhales.

Hands gripping onto you, as that breath is released in a rough groan, your own name on his lips. A sharp thrust as he buries himself deep, a shallow rock of his hips with each flex of his cock as he spills into you. The warmth flooding your walls, as he moves until you’ve taken all of him.

Until the aching, burning need is extinguished - as he relaxes like you did. Your nails scratching up his back and into his hair, a rumble of contentment as he shifts onto his side, and then back, pulling you with him.

Reaching down with one hand to pull the plug of the lights from the wall, blanketing the room in darkness. Fingers gentle as he lifts the mask. The brush of his lips against your eyelids.

Your cheek pressing against his chest, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.

“I’m really happy I got to see you.” You yawn - blissfully limp, as you curl against him, “Even if you have to go.”

Sighing, as you arm drapes across his waist, “I’ll keep an eye on things until you come home.”

Home.

He can't pretend he hasn't already thought about it. What you had told him earlier, about these huts.

How the structures could change, evolve.

Spanning the space between your properties - expanding the walls and connecting hallways until the two houses become one. Truly a haven, a place where he could see himself growing old.

Not now, but... maybe someday.

Once this final quest was completed. Once he was redeemed. A true Mandalorian, once more.

But, that would be some time away. He has no idea what he will find on Mandalore. How long it will take to find Sundari, uncover the mines. It was no use to dwell on that future, when everything was uncertain.

So, instead… he finds himself silently hoping that the Anzellans will take just a little while longer.

Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think 💖

mesh’la - beautiful / osik - shit / cyar’ika - sweetheart

[kinokkotsu]

Home. — Yuta Okkotsu x F.Reader

Today’s Music Recommendation: M. By Anil Emre Daldal

As soon as Yuuta stepped inside the gates of Jujutsu Tech, everyone was there to welcome him, including you.

You held the sides of your long pleated skirt so hard that the fabric began to seem crumble. You were extremely nervous to meet your..friend who hadn’t been with you and the rest for almost a year and now he was finally back home.

There you spotted Yuuta who had grew his hair out and his eyes seemed like he had not slept for decades with eye bags underneath. He grew a bit taller than the last time you saw him.

When His eyes met yours, he gave you a genuine smile. The one you had been craving to see.

You pursed your lips as you held back the tears in your eyes and just calmly walked towards the tall male and give him a friendly hug.

“Welcome back, you..changed a lot.” Yuuta laughed at your very first response.

“That’s right. I’ve grown up, haven’t I?” the rest of the group joined the laughter in which you could only smile at his silly joke.

As many left after welcoming him, you stayed with him and followed his way through the old dorm that he used to stay in. Which you of course helped the man carry his stuff back into his room.

“Woah..i expected my room to be dusty and smokey but seems like somebody has cleaned up my room.” He glanced at you teasingly who was swallowing her own nerves anxiously.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Maki and Panda were planning to do so I just volunteered to help.”

You broke the eye contact you had with him and proceeded to open his luggage and recognize his wardrobe.

This man who you thought of as a pure soul had turnt into some scary looking creature but you found yourself still getting comfortable with him.

“Oh and i got you a gift.” Yuuta broke the dead silent within the room with his soothing voice. You who was sitting on her knees before the wardrobe, glanced over your shoulder and looked at the guy that sat at the edge of his bed.

“Come here”

“Why would I? You come here.” you scoffed which made Yuuta chuckle and made his way through towards your figure.

Both of his hands reached out with a thin rose-golden necklace that shone beautifully under the sunlight that was illuminating the room. Your jaw slightly dropped as your eyes admired the jewelry that was intertwined with his slim fingers.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It indeed is..”

You began to feel embarrassed for staring at the necklace like you had never seen one before. But in fact, you had never received a gift from no one like this which specialized the beauty of his gift.

“Now I want you to hold your hair for me so I can help you wear this.” Yuuta instructed with a gentle smile. Your eyes locked within his gaze before you nodded and followed his orders.

He was gentle with his movements. Though his face didn’t show any signs of emotion, deep down he was completely nervous as if he was about to piss in his pants right in that spot. he had never done this to any other females which was totally obvious.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. The feelings you got for this man currently got you folding completely. Despite being nervous, You didn’t even know you were holding your breath until his hands were moved away from your shoulders.

“There, I knew it would look good on you.” the male laughed as he let himself fall back onto the ground.

you stared on your neck, ignoring the burning heat in your cheeks. “yeah, thanks.”

“Just thanks?” He hummed. You shot a sarcastic smile on him. “What? You want an overreaction out of me?”

“You can say that,” shrugged the male, giving you a sweet grin.

“Save it.” You couldn’t help but smile. “now go rest, you’ve had a long day.”

All the worries you had while he was gone, The thought of him not coming back, The thought of you not having to confess your feelings for him, just the thought of you not being able to see the face of his can suffocate you from anxiety.

He was back home.

Please Comment and Reblog I really appreciate it 🫶🏻🫶🏻 (follow me also I don’t bite) and yeah i feel like this is what would happen if shibuya incident didn’t occurred.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 5

        [Master List]

   “Danny!”

            Turning towards the voice, Danny held the door to the coffee shop open as a familiar blond came running up to him. “Hey Jesse, you work today?”

            They nodded, walking through the open door. “Yeah, just about to start. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, everything okay?” They eyed him knowingly. Danny had seen Jesse at Mr. Bianchi’s funeral and although they didn’t speak to each other, they’d both acknowledged seeing the other.

            “Been pretty busy with the daycare and some personal things. How’s school going?”

            They sighed. “Exhausting. I have this big test coming up for chemistry and I’m barely passing the class. I’ve spent every spare minute studying, and I still don’t feel like I understand what’s happening! One second.” They vanished into the backroom, returning a few moments later with an apron and hat on. “I haven’t even had time to work on my hobbies lately! Just work and school all day every day! It’s like, yeah I know my education is important but would it kill my professors to give me a break so I can hang out with friends or- god forbid go on a date with my partner?”

            He held out the cash for his drink which Jesse took without a word, still on a roll. Seeing his opportunity when they took a breath, he cut in. “I could help you, if you want?” They eyed him curiously, pouring the first two shots into the hot coffee while the rest pulled. “I have a bachelor’s in bio-chem, I was pretty good at both. Here’s my number,” He scribbled his number down on a drink sleeve and slid it across the bar. “text me a time if you want some tutoring.”

            “Oh my gods,” They breathed, taking the piece of paper. “you’re literally my savior- TIM! Your friend here is a god amongst men! Buy his coffee for him!”

            Danny frowned. “I already paid for my drink though.” He reminded before glancing at Tim. He’d expected the man to be in a suit again, hair combed back neatly, briefcase in hand; that was, after all, how he’d looked when they first met. But it was a Saturday, so it was unlikely he’d be going to any meetings which meant his apparel made a lot more sense.

            The man wore his hair pulled back in a messy half up half down bun, ripped skinny jeans, a red flannel tied around his waist, and a gray t-shirt that said ‘I <3 Mothman’. His ears were adorned by various silver studs and chains that complimented his black leather bracelets. A skateboard was held firmly in his left hand.

            “Well- fine! Free coffee for a month, you’d really be helping me out!” They poured a few more shots into the cup. “I’m in a good mood, Tim your coffee’s on the house today.”

            Tim looked between the two. “That makes absolutely no sense, Jesse. I have more than enough to cover my own coffee. In fact,” as if to prove a point, he pulled a couple hundred dollar bills out of his wallet and stuffed them into the tip jar. “keep the change.”

            “I have no idea what’s happening anymore.” Danny sighed, just wishing for his coffee.

            As if reading his mind, Jesse finally slid his coffee into his awaiting hand before whirling around to start the exact same process with Tim’s drink. Danny hadn’t actually run into Tim again since the first time they’d met. Whether it was because Tim didn’t come every day or Danny had been making more coffee at home these days, he wasn’t sure.

            It wasn’t unwelcome to see the man again, but he wasn’t sure they exactly qualified as friends like Jesse seemed to believe. “How’d those meetings go?” Danny asked after taking his first sip of coffee.

            “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re done and now I’m avoiding any more they try to throw at me like the plague. How’s the Daycare going? You guys opened a little while back, didn’t you?” Tim leaned against the counter, waiting for his own drink to come out.

            With a nod, and another long sip of the boiling hot coffee, Danny replied. “It’s been going all right. Lots of kids now, I’m working on hiring some help at the moment but I’m just glad I can help out, you know?”

            Tim agreed, grabbing his coffee. “Seems like you’re doing something really good for the Bowery.”

            “I’m trying.”

            The two walked towards the door, wishing Jesse a good shift, and headed outside.

            “Well I’m meeting my boyfriend at the skatepark, what are you up to on one of your few days off?” Tim asked, pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

            Danny laughed. “Bold of you to assume I get any days off. If I’m not working at the daycare I’m usually at a soup kitchen or doing paperwork or something else. Today I’m actually just going to the observatory though. Skateboarding is cool though; I didn’t actually recognize you at first with the whole skater thing.” He laughed. “You look a lot more comfortable like this than in the suit getup you had last time.”

            Tim grinned. “Much. And much like you, I don’t get many days off so I’ve gotta head out, make the most of the time I do have off.” He paused. “Actually, wait,” Pulling a sharpie out of his pocket-did he always keep a sharpie in his pockets? - he scribbled something on his drink’s sleeve before sliding it off the cup and offering it to Danny. “here’s my number. We should hang out sometime.”

            Okay Jesse, you win this time.

~~~

            May in Gotham wasn’t nearly as cold as Danny though it would be, although having an ice core might have something to do with that, but he continued to stock his daycare with jackets, gloves, and hats just in case. The recent downpours had forced him to add umbrellas, raincoats, and rainboots as well. He said ‘he’- in reality, he let Dora pick out most of the clothes for the kids. It was something she liked to do.

            Danny shifted uncomfortably at his desk, waiting. Mia’s friend was supposed to come in for an interview shortly and despite his excitement to have more help, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. When Mia said she had a friend who was ‘good people’ and just wanted to help, he had expected someone from the area- not one of Bruce Wayne’s foster children.

            Duke Thomas was eighteen years old, would be graduating from high school at the end of the month, and had been accepted to Gotham U for the following semester. He had a trust fund that would see him through the rest of his life and no need to work, least of all work with children in the Bowery. Maybe it was a bit hypocritical to think that way though- Danny certainly didn’t need to work with children in a random universe in a random city with children from the most rundown part of said city.

            Surprising no one, Danny wasn’t exactly good at the whole ‘boss’ thing. Sure he was a king, but he had a council and he made them take care of the social aspects, and hiring Mia had been different, he already knew her! He’d never actually interviewed someone for a job, and he wasn’t even really sure what he was supposed to say or do.

            There was a knock at his door, and he straightened his jacket out before shouting a calm ‘come in!’. Mia stood on the other side, gesturing for her friend to enter, and sent a glare over her friend’s shoulder directly at Danny. She mouthed ‘be nice’ to which he responded, ‘I’m always nice’, before closing the door.

            “You must be Duke,” Danny smiled. “I’m Danny, pleasure to meet you.”

            Duke shook his hand, it was firm, stronger than Danny expected. “Mia’s told me quite a bit about you, sir.”

            “Oh Ancients, no, call me Danny. I’m like four years older than you at most. Sir is weird.” They both took their seat, Duke shooting him a grin instead of responding, and Danny spread out Duke’s application in front of him. “So Duke, why do you want to work here?”

            Duke clasped his hands in front of him. “Honestly? I think what you’re doing here is really great. I grew up in an area that needed help like this. We never had anything like this when I was younger. It’s a really awesome way to help the community.”

            “That’s good to hear. I’m not from here so getting my feet under me was a little difficult at first, but once I made some connections things got a lot easier. You’re finishing up high school at the moment, right?” Duke nodded. “What are your plans after that?”

            Duke nodded slowly. “I’m going to attend Gotham U, I’m not sure what for yet. But during the summer and the days I don’t have class I want to do something with my time. Something good. I think that’s your daycare.”

            “Do you have any experience with kids?”

            Duke considered the question for a moment. “When I lived in the Narrows I had a neighbor who… had a drug problem. Her daughter came over one day to ask if we had any eggs. She was trying to cook herself food because her mom had been gone for a few days. After that I tried to take care of her. Brought her food, made sure there were leftovers for days I couldn’t, showed her my homework and taught her what little I could. It wasn’t much, but I learned a lot about taking care of little kids.” Something in his voice was tight, which made sense, it was obviously not a happy story. “We’re still friends and she’s doing much better now.”

            Well at least it had a bit of a happy ending.

            Danny liked him. He seemed genuine, seemed like the kind of guy who would do his very best for the kids, and actually wanted to help them. “How many hours are you looking to work in a week and what is your schedule like?”

            It didn’t take long for them to sort everything out. Duke would start the week after school ended, the first week of June, and he would work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, ten to six, and (despite his protests that it was too much) would be making thirty dollars an hour. Danny really didn’t care if it seemed like a lot, he could pay Duke thirty dollars an hour for full time work for the rest of his life and not make a dent in his fortune.

            Mia gave him a smug look after Duke left. Why? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like Danny had been opposed to her friends working here, he’d encouraged it! He reminded her of that, and she rolled her eyes grumbling something about a hostile takeover, but it was difficult to hear over the shrieking children, even for him.

            With Mia working nine to three every day, and Duke working ten to six three days a week (once school let out), Danny might be able to take a bit of time off in the afternoons on those days. Still, he thought he should maybe hire someone a bit older, with a lot more experience before he could take any kind of trips or vacation time.

            That night, Danny found himself craving burgers. Nasty burger to be specific, but he’d be fully dead before he’d willingly set foot in Amity Park again, so he had to settle for the next best thing. Batburger.

            There was one not too far from where he lived, technically it was over the border into Crime Alley, but he wasn’t exactly scared of Crime Alley. He lived in the Bowery. Arguably worse than Crime Alley. And also, he was already half-dead. He wasn’t exactly worried about getting mugged.

            But get mugged, he did.

            “Hey you!” Someone shouted. Danny sighed, turning around to see a man wearing a mask with a gun pointed his way. “Hand over your wallet and phone.”

            Now, Danny was rich- like, incredibly wealthy, but he didn’t actively carry around large amounts of money. In fact, after buying his and Mia’s lunch that afternoon, he didn’t have any cash on him at all. And his phone was Wayne tech until Tucker gutted half of it an added his own stuff. It wouldn’t be worth much.

            And Danny was capable of going invisible and intangible, so he wasn’t exactly worried about this guy. He honestly felt bad he didn’t have any cash to give him though. “Listen man, I don’t really have anything worth money on me right now. If you want, I can get you a meal at the bat burger though?”

            The mugger looked confused. “What?”

            “I don’t have money on me, just my card which I would totally cancel before you could do anything with it, and my phone is worthless. But I was heading to Bat Burger anyways so if you’re hungry I’d be willing to buy you a meal.” Danny shrugged nonchalantly like his offer wasn’t absolutely insane.

            The gun began to lower slowly, Danny noticed a slight tremor in the man’s hand, and then the gun’s safety was back on, and the gun was stowed. “You’re that guy… My buddy from the Bowery said you hand out meals sometimes. You… you were at the soup kitchen.”

            Danny shrugged again. “Listen man, I do what I can. And what I can do right now, is buy you a meal. If you want.”

            That’s how Danny found himself sat across from a complete stranger eating burgers. Except he wasn’t a stranger. The man had shyly taken off his mask before walking in, afraid the employees and customers would think he was robbing them (a safe assumption) and freak out. The man -Miguel- turned out to be a bit closer to a boy. Probably seventeen (eighteen at most), with dull green eyes, freckles, and ratty brown hair.

            Probably best to act like he didn’t know who this kid was- it would be startling to realize an adult remembered you and your brother after almost being mugged.

            “So, what’s your story?” Miguel asked.

            Scoffing, Danny swallowed a bite and took a swig of soda. “I don’t have one.”

            “C’mon man, everyone’s got a story.”

            Danny raised an eyebrow pointedly. “And what’s yours?”

            The kid glared. “Point taken.”

            Wiping the grease off his hands, Danny leaned back into the booth and sighed. “I’m Danny. I run a daycare in the Bowery because it helps people and that’s what I like to do. Your turn.”

            “’m Miguel.” When he stopped there, Danny raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to keep talking. “Jus’ needed some money for dinner.” Danny had noted that he’d only eaten half of the food he’d gotten and wrapped everything up neatly.

            “Are you saving that for tomorrow? Or someone else?” Miguel pulled back like he wasn’t sure he should answer. “I like helping people. And I don’t do it in the ‘legal’ ways, if you’re afraid of cops or cps or something.” Danny pushed as much truth into his words as he could. Even if the kid couldn’t pick up his aura he pushed genuine-care-worried as hard as he could towards the boy.

            Miguel rubbed his palm with his thumb nervously. “My… my little brother’s waitin’ on me to bring ‘im somethin’.”

            “How old is your brother?” Danny asked. At Miguel’s quickly tensed nature, he put his hands up. “I’m not calling anyone on you, Miguel.”

            The boy shifted anxiously. “Thirteen.”

            Danny nodded, taking another bite, hoping that a moment’s reprieve would help Miguel calm down. “School?” He finally asked. Miguel shook his head, hanging it in embarrassment. “Parents?”

            “…I…” Miguel’s fists tightened, his breathing picked up, and he looked at Danny with panicked eyes. “I take care of him, ‘m really good at it and I don’t let ‘im go hungry or nothin’ and-”

            “Miguel, woah, woah, woah, it’s okay.” Danny comforted. “I’m not here to judge you kid.” He waited for Miguel’s panic to subside, for his words to sink in, before continuing. “I help people. That’s what I like to do, remember? Do you have a job?”

            He shifted uncomfortably. “I… ‘m in a… gang- ‘ts the only way ta get money for someone like me!”

            “Yeah, it’s got to be hard for someone in your position.” Danny finished his burger, wiping his hands again, crumpling the napkin, and tossing it onto the table. “Okay. So. I could use some help in the evenings and on weekends keeping the daycare clean. Toys need to be sterilized, floors vacuumed, and carpets cleaned, that kind of thing. I’d pay well.” Miguel opened his mouth, but Danny kept going. “I could tutor you and your brother on the weekends as well, I imagine he’ll be going into high school next year?”

            “Y..yeah…”

            “How old are you? What year of school would you be in?”

            Miguel fidgeted, clearly confused. “Seventeen. I’d be a senior next year I guess.”

            “Okay, so I can tutor the both of you, get you ready for school next year, and I’ll obviously pay for that too. Where are you living? I can set you guys up with an apartment too.”

            “What the fuck are you sayin’ man?” Miguel looked at him like he was -well- a fruit loop.

            Danny sighed and slid his card across the table. “I know it sounds like a trick; I swear it’s not. I help people. Call me your fairy godmother if it makes you feel better. I’ll let you think about it though, I know it sounds fake and you’re probably worried I’m like, some crazy trafficker or something. So, come find me, or call me if you want that.” He stood up, grabbing his trash. “In the meantime, let me get another meal for you to take to your brother.”

            Miguel’s ‘you’re absolutely fucking crazy’ look didn’t go away in the time it took for Danny to get him another meal (which was definitely more like three meals) so he reminded Miguel to call him and went on his way. Hopefully after the eventful couple of days he’d had, he could sleep in extra late tomorrow.

            Right?

~~~

            Wrong.

            He’d never been more wrong. How come it was so easy to jinx himself? And why did these things always happen to him? Apparently the power went out in the middle of the night and Danny’s alarm decided that meant it should go of at six in the morning (Ancients fuck factory settings), he was going to go back to sleep after shutting it off but the sound of an explosion not too far away woke him back up, so he stumbled out of bed and decided on coffee. What? Explosions were not for ex-vigilantes.

            Except his coffee maker had decided to not come back on after the power went out and he realized the whole thing was broken (he could fix it, but it would be easier to just go out and get coffee for the time being), which is when he thought things were looking up. The barista knew him (not as well as Jesse, but he thought his name was Eddie?), his younger brother went to daycare, and gave him his drink for free. The drink that he promptly spilled all over himself. No Tim in sight to buy him a replacement coffee.

            Fine, he didn’t need it anyways. He needed to go to the grocery store, so he’d just buy a premade coffee- with a lid that screwed on. It was a foolproof plan.

            “You should be more careful, walking in alleyways by yourself.” A hysterical voice called from the shadows of the alley he was cutting through. “You Wayne’s always thinking you’re safe because of the bat. But he’s not here, is he?” When Danny realized who was speaking he decided to nope out of the situation immediately.

            Nope. Fuck that. He didn’t do clowns. Didn’t matter what they looked like, if it walked like a clown and talked like a clown it was a fucking clown. Turning around, Danny moved to walk away from who he assumed was the Joker but had never actually met before. Wasn’t he in Arkham? Jazz had complained about him once or twice. He’d also heard complaints from several of his subjects about the man, a problem he never thought he’d have to deal with personally.

            A hand grabbed his shoulder and before Danny could stop himself he spun around and threw a punch at the man’s face. He. Didn’t. Do. Clowns.

            A sickening crack came from under Danny’s fist and blood poured out of the man’s nose. The man screamed and laughed hysterically; Danny questioned if he really was insane to be laughing at a broken nose.

            What exactly was Danny supposed to do in this situation? Joker decided for him, pulling out a gun and aiming it at the Halfa. Not the smartest move. Intangibility swept through him as the trigger was pulled, the bullet flying straight through him and lodging into the brick wall behind him. It only took another second for Danny to knock the gun out of his hand, grab the man by his shirt, and throw him across the alley into the opposite brick wall.

            The opposite brick wall which immediately collapsed on top of the body he’d thrown. Shit. Jogging over, Danny searched for a pulse. Aaaaaand… there wasn’t one. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No biggie.

            “Ancients damn it.” He grumbled, pulling his hand away from the dry bleached skin and taking a step back. “Well you really stepped in it this time Danny.” He stared at the body, one hand on his hip, the other rubbing across his forehead as he debated what to do. “Could call the cops, don’t really want them to know I killed a guy, could try to find the bats- really don’t want them to know I killed a guy…. Could leave him here? No, no telling what someone would do with the body- might try to bring him back.”

            “And what have we here?” A deep modulated voice came from above Danny.

            Looking up, Danny came face to face with someone he was honestly surprised he hadn’t met before. The Bowery was part of Red Hood’s territory even if he was more known for his work in Crime Alley and Danny had been almost mugged a number of times, still, he’d never run into the crime lord. Despite knowing he should avoid vigilantes at all costs, Danny couldn’t help the bit of excitement at meeting the one his people called ‘the Avenger of the Dead’.

            Danny remembered the situation he was in and sighed, resigned. “Listen, it was an accident.”

            Red Hood tilted his head, dropping down from the fire escape he crouched on, gun still trained on Danny. When the man glanced toward the body he faltered, hand lowering slightly before looking back to Danny. “What the fuck?” It came out like a whisper.

            “He grabbed me and pulled a gun on me, I… didn’t mean to throw him that hard but I don’t like clowns.” Red Hood nodded as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. If he remembered correctly ‘the Red Hood’ was an old moniker of the Joker’s. Danny found it hard to believe someone nicknamed ‘the Avenger of the Dead’ would be in cahoots with the Joker, so it was more likely that he’d stolen the name to make something better out of it.

            He probably hated the clown more than Danny.

            Holstering his gun, Red Hood looked back to the body. “I’m guessing you don’t want anyone to know?” Danny nodded warily. “I’ll have someone take care of the body, give me a second to make a couple of calls.”

            Danny stood uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other while the Red Hood moved further down the alley. It gave him an opportunity to study the man. He was, well, to put it bluntly, he was jacked. He was almost a foot taller than Danny with broad shoulders and obvious muscles filling out his tight-fitting suit. It wasn’t like the suit was all spandex either, it was a much thicker material, definitely layered with Kevlar and probably some other tech and protective layers, and yet you could still see every muscle on the man.

            Danny wasn’t checking him out. Not even when the man placed one hand on his hip which jutted out to the side and showed off his extremely firm looking ass. Firm looking? Danny mentally face palmed. You’re not allowed to thirst over a crime lord. Even the Avenger of the Dead.

He tried not to listen in on the conversation- he didn’t want to accidently learn the man’s identity or something and focused on the sound of the city in the distance. Sirens, guns, and the explosions from the morning all indicated an Arkham breakout and his concern immediately shifted to Jazz.

            Whipping his phone out of his pocket he pressed one and called. It rang three times before he heard his sister’s voice.

            “Danny?”

            “Jazz! Are you okay?”

            There was a lot of background noise, and it took her a moment to respond, she was likely distracted. “Yeah I’m fine. The breakout happened before my shift today, I just got in. Listen, the boss is, obviously, not happy so I can’t talk. I’ll call you tonight. Maybe we can do takeout at my place?”

            He confirmed and was quickly hung up on. The timing was good, Red Hood making his way over right after.

            “Okay, I’ve got someone on their way to take care of the body. You need help getting home? Actually- let me rephrase- I’m going to get you home.” His voice left no room for argument.

            Danny argued anyways. “I was on my way to go grocery shopping. I’ll be fine.”

            Hood grunted. “Sorry man but we’ve got an Arkham breakout on our hands. Better for you to get home now and shop tomorrow. Besides, with the Joker dead it won’t take as long to clean everything up.”

            He noticed the way Hood said Joker was dead seemed almost smug, but he didn’t question it. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re not going to tell anyone that I did this, right?”

            Hood tilted his head and Danny pressed on before he could respond. “Because I mean, technically I killed him, but it was self-defense, and also this guy totally deserved it, but I’m just not totally sure it would look good for me with the parents whose kids I take care of and I would really prefer to not have to explain to all of them that ‘yes I killed the Joker and yes I’m still taking care of your kids’-”

            “Guy!” Hood cut in. “I’m not going to tell anyone. But I think you’d find most people would feel even more comfortable leaving their kid with someone who can defend themselves and their kids. Now let me take you home, I’ve got other people to catch and not a lot of time.”

            Danny relaxed at his words. “Oh don’t bother with me, I can-”

            “Just shut up and hold tight.” Red Hood grabbed Danny’s arm, pulled him close, extended his grapple, and they were flying.

            Now, Danny was used to flying, it was common practice for him even after hanging up his metaphorical cape, he flew on the daily, in his apartment he often found himself floating instead of walking, but flying while gravity was still a factor? Not at all the same. Danny’s arms wrapped around Hood’s neck tight, and his eyes snapped shut on reflex before he opened them again.

            “Where too?” Hood chuckled, swinging (apparently) aimlessly but away from the crime scene.

            Giving Hood his address, which he still wasn’t convinced was a good idea, he found himself enjoying the flight. It would be better with little bags of trail mix and a seatbelt, but he’d suffer he supposed.

            Setting down on the fire escape outside of his window, Hood leaned against the railing and seemed to be sizing Danny up.

            “Well… Uh… thanks, I guess.” Danny wasn’t sure what to say, settling instead for flattening down his hair. Between the shock of killing someone (which he had only done once before, and did Ending Pariah Dark really count? If anything that was worse than killing someone but also entirely different.) and meeting someone many of his people considered their hero (who he had hoped he’d get the opportunity to thank for his selfless deeds at some point or another) Danny couldn’t figure out what would be appropriate to say.

            Hood paused. “Anytime.” Danny snorted. “I mean it.” Even through his helmet Danny felt like he could see something blazing in his eyes. There was a solemnity in the way he spoke. “You killed the Joker. You need anything, come find me or my people. I owe you one.”

            Before Danny could argue (could insist that no Hood didn’t owe him anything, Danny owed him so much more for avenging so many lost souls that Danny had to introduce to the afterlife and they were always so young or powerless or scared and Hood had been able to bring them a comfort he never could so really it’s Danny who owed Hood a favor-) the vigilante leapt over the edge of the fire escape and swung away.

            Danny took a deep, shuddery breath, tearing his eyes away from where Red Hood had disappeared and using his intangibility to enter his apartment.

            He deserved a nap.

~~~

            Sleep never came to him, and he found it was much more elusive than it had been before he’d killed someone.

Prev. Next

[cat3ch1sm]

I was wondering if you would do more writing for L. Would you write a NSFW with Dom!L including bondage?

⛪️~ hello, @incivilminds <33 here is your request!! I have done you so dirty dawg like this is actually so old… forgive me plsplspls💔💔💔💔 also GODDAMN this is long as shit what

also yeah, i haven’t been writing a lot for L lately, my bad y’all 😭 i will def be writing more death note soon

*＊✿❀ nsfw ahead! fem!reader,❀✿＊*

It probably hadn’t even been a week since you had been captured, although it felt like it had been months. Vaguely, you recalled your wrists being wrenched behind your back mercilessly and a blindfold being tied roughly around your eyes. While you struggled vehemently against the chafing handcuffs that had been so harshly slapped around your wrists, someone, a man, had told you that you were under suspicion of being involved with Kira. Next thing you knew, you were tied up in a small, empty room, still unable to see or move with your body bound to a terribly uncomfortable metal board-like thing.

For a long time, you were scared out of your mind. For hours on end, you’d been interrogated by a garbled voice coming from somewhere in the room, and you hadn’t been able to give anyone any information. You were hardly allowed any bathroom breaks, and you were only given the bare minimum of food and water to keep you alive. However, despite the small amount of time you’d been captive, the situation you were in felt more hopeless every second. You were sleep-deprived, mentally drained from all the questions every hour of every day, your body was aching like hell from the position you’d been in for what seemed like ages, and you were always thirsty or hungry. On a number of occasions you’d fainted, only realizing it when you were awoken by a stern voice from some audio device in the room.

When you heard the familiar click of the microphone in the room, you had just begun to drift off again- sleeping was really all you could to in this predicament, and you weren’t really getting much of that either- it was hard to do so when you were literally tied to a board at 90 degrees and being watched every single second. And you already knew whoever had you captive now was tired of you asking to go to the bathroom every two seconds.

“Y/N.”

The stoic but demanding tone of whoever was speaking was something you were used to by now- but realizing that you were probably about to be interrogated ruthlessly again by this mechanical voice was almost too much, especially alongside being deprived of most of your senses for so long like this. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond, instead barely lifting your head from its loll on your chest.

“Good. You’re up. Now, tell me what you know about Kira.”

This again. You could almost feel your sanity slipping through your fingers.

You replied with an inaudible murmur, not even really knowing what you were saying yourself.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

This time, you didn’t respond, and dropped your head again, an overwhelming sleepiness suddenly coming over you. Today, you just weren’t up for it- you couldn’t care less what anyone did to you.

There was an unexpected silence for a few seconds- you’d expected the voice to resume its distorted badgering the second you failed to reply. But when the voice sounded again, its tone wasn’t as stony as it had been previously.

“You seem tired. How are you doing?”

Before you could stop it, a dull, bitter laugh burst from your throat. “How am I doing?” Your voice was raspy from lack of hydration and to speak by itself hurt your throat. “Don’t patronize me.”

More silence. For a second you’d thought maybe you’d made the voice mad, but what it said next surprised you. “Watari. Get the girl some water.”

Next thing you knew, there was shuffling beside you, and then a hard object at your lips. You could feel the cold air from it flowing on your skin, and then Watari tilted the cup towards your lips, signaling you to drink. However, you kept your lips tightly shut- you didn’t want to accept any formalities from whoever was behind this.

Watari tried again, but this time you moved your head out of the way quite violently, feeling your hair dip into the water before your head hit the side of the cup, knocking it from Watari’s hand and spilling the cold liquid all over your body. It brought you a little pleasure to know that you were being an inconvenience, and now there was a mess to clean up. Besides that, now you might be allowed clean clothes.

Silence from Watari. You wondered if you’d made him mad.

“Ryuzaki, the girl doesn’t seem to be cooperating.”

You were a little surprised by Watari’s voice. You’d thought he was a man on the younger side, but instead he sounded rather elderly. You shuddered to yourself.

“Yes, I can see that,” came the tiny little voice through the speakers. It sounded like his or her teeth were clenched.

Ryuzaki. So that was your captor’s name. Even if you did get punished for your difficult behavior, at least you’d come away with a little victory.

“Feel free to depart, Watari,” Ryuzaki spoke again, the crackle of the feedback echoing through the room. “I’m going to come down there myself.”

He was coming down? You weren’t sure if you were anxious or eager. Perhaps he’d finally finish you off.

“Ryuzaki, are you sure?” Watari questioned.

“She can’t see me,” Ryuzaki replied coolly. “It’ll be fine. By this point, she needs a change of clothes, anyway- the water in fact contained a light dose of a chemical that would make the girl’s mind a little weaker and relax some of her tension, perhaps draw the truth out of her- and I can’t have it spilled on her clothes like it is now.”

Chemical? Draw the truth out of you? Any regrets about rejecting the water drained from your mind the instant Ryuzaki said that. Another tiny victory.

“Go ahead, Watari. I’ll be down shortly.”

Watari complied, and soon you heard footsteps depart from you and eventually vanish.

It was a little while before you heard anyone else again, and you waited anxiously, back aching against the cold, stiff board. Was he going to kill you? Or were you just in for more interrogation? At this point, you’d much rather Ryuzaki just end your misery. Even one more question and you’d go mad.

Despite your rising anxiety, you couldn’t ignore the pull of sleep weighing down your eyelids and blurring your vision. It had been ages since you’d slept properly, and even the small intervals of sleep you managed to get were constantly disrupted by the crackly voice over the intercom waking you up to ask you the same set of questions. Because of this, while waiting for Ryuzaki, you actually began to drift off- but just as you were about to really fall asleep, you heard footsteps echoing throughout the room.

The sound snapped you back to alertness, making you jolt. The footsteps grew louder and louder, growing closer, and then they stopped right in front of you. You froze, body completely stiff- Ryuzaki had arrived. However, he didn’t speak, which only made you more nervous.

After a few agonizing minutes, you at last heard a voice, allowing you to relax a bit- but it wasn’t much. However, the voice did surprise you- it was a young man, much unlike the crackly sound you’d been hearing for the time that you’d been here. There was a raspy edge to it as well- you could say confidently that it certainly wasn’t an ugly voice. In fact, it was sort of comforting in a twisted manner- it would have been worse if it was an old man watching you this entire time.

“Mr. Matsuda, Aizawa,” Ryuzaki commanded, “turn off the cameras and the audio.”

What?

The two men Ryuzaki had addressed seemed to have a similar reaction as yours. “Huh? L- I mean, Ryuzaki, that’s nuts! This is an interrogation!” came a protesting voice rather loudly through the microphone, the feedback making you flinch. It sounded like a much younger man’s voice, younger than Ryuzaki.

There was a brief pause before another, more mature-sounding voice came through the speaker. “Yeah- Ryuzaki, we trust you, but is that something you really want to do?”

“I want to talk to our suspect alone.” Ryuzaki continued calmly, unfazed by either of the men’s protests. “Matsuda, please turn off the camera and the audio.”

This couldn’t be good at all. Now you were almost certain Ryuzaki was going to kill you. Why else would he want the audio and video off? He couldn’t possibly be letting you go.

Matsuda sighed. “Okay, Ryuzaki, if you say so.” There was a click, soon followed by a second one, and the feedback finally silenced.

You let out an involuntary whimper through your gag. Now you were really alone, and with the blindfold you only had your fate to ponder. Was this it?

You felt Ryuzaki move closer to you, and you bit down on your gag, anticipating his next move- but to your surprise, you felt slender fingers grasp your blindfold and undo it, the metal headpiece falling from your face.

Instantly, you were blinded by the light, and a series of shapes and light exploded in front of your eyes. Flinching, you automatically shut your eyes again, completely overwhelmed with sensory input given you’d been blindfolded for days on end with no break whatsoever. You didn’t even get to see your captor’s face. However, you still felt when he removed the dirty gag from your mouth, the foul taste of the rag damp with your saliva finally leaving.

You couldn’t help the giant gulp of air you took right after Ryuzaki removed the gag, having had a lot of your airway obstructed for almost a week. For quite a while, you just coughed and gasped, making up for lost breath while Ryuzaki simply stood a short distance in front of you and watched.

When your coughing spell finally ceased and you were able to see for the most part, you at last slowly lifted your head from its loll on your chest- coming face to face with your captor at last. And to say the least, you were rather caught off guard.

He was fairly tall, a height you would expect for a man about the age he looked, but that was about the only thing conventional about him. You’d thought it would be a more refined man, polished and cold and calculating, like the head of an organized crime group. However, you were instead met with a pale face with wide, sunken-in gray eyes, a pallor over his entire body and his black hair wildly arranged all over his head. Along with that, he had on a mere white T-shirt and baggy jeans- and no shoes!- rather than the more debonair attire you’d expected him to wear. Pretty much everything about the man was in contrast to what you had thought him to be, and you couldn’t suppress the shocked expression that came across your face.

Ryuzaki tilted his head at you upon seeing your expression. “Surprised?”

You said nothing, instead recoiling back against the metal board. No matter what he looked like, this was still your kidnapper who had held you hostage for five days.

“No need to look so nervous.” Ryuzaki shrugged nonchalantly. It was as if he’d done this a million times. “I’m not down here to harm you.”

“You aren’t?” It just popped out. You didn’t know you remembered how to speak words other than the same mantra of “Yes,” “No,” or “I don’t know” in reply to Ryuzaki’s endless interrogation questions.

“Your enunciation is surprisingly good for someone who’s had a gag in their mouth for the past several days,” Ryuzaki remarked casually, his eyes drifting from yours down to your lips. He placed his hands behind his back and slowly circled the metal board you were bound to, inspecting you closely. Revolted, you shrank against the metal as much as possible, trying to avoid his scrutinizing gaze.

Finally, Ryuzaki came back around in front of you. “Your tense body language would suggest that you’re rather wary of me.” He paused, inching closer to you still. “I’m not surprised.”

“No shit,” you managed, giving the detective the most beseeching glare you could.

Ryuzaki tilted his head at you. “Well, it’s nice to see you still have at least a bit of fight in you, hm?” Then, all of a sudden, he brought his face directly up to yours, his wide gray eyes burning into yours and startling you. You recoiled as much as possible, but found yourself unable to break away from his gaze. “Now, tell me- what? Do you know? About Kira.” His voice was just a low hiss, and you felt your heart pound in your chest and your breath speed up. Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you retorted, “I told you already- I don’t know anything.”

Ryuzaki pulled back after hearing those words, his expression going back to it’s normal stoic self. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Alright. Since you don’t seem to be cooperating, I suppose I’ll have to take on another tactic to get you to talk.” Ryuzaki turned away and vanished around a corner for a moment, and for a brief moment you felt scared that he was going to pull out something like a knife or a taser to torture information out of you. But when the detective reappeared, he had something you definitely weren’t expecting him to come out with.

“A vibrator?” you sputtered, unable to contain your disbelief. Ryuzaki didn’t seem rattled by your outburst at all, only fiddling with the device in his hand before looking back up to address you.

“I assume you were expecting me to emerge with some… torture device of some sort. But when it comes to these things, I find pleasure is a much more effective method of interrogation,” Ryuzaki explained, approaching you with the vibrator. “Since you won’t talk, I’ll just have to make you. Now, stay still for me so I can get these clothes out of the way.” Ryuzaki kneeled to the ground and picked up a knife, making you jump, but he addressed you again. “Don’t worry. I just need to take off your clothes without undoing your restraints.”

This helped your nerves a little bit, but not really. Still, you figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to fight him while he had the knife so close to your skin. Ryuzaki held you around the waist with one hand to keep your body still while he dragged the knife down the raggedy white garment you had on, slicing the cloth in half and allowing it to fall from your body effortlessly. You flinched when you felt the cold air hit your skin, but as your body was exposed, you noticed something odd.

“Ah. Judging by the look on your face, I assume you’ve noticed that you’re a little… messy between the legs.”

You looked up at Ryuzaki abruptly. You were indeed unusually wet, despite hardly being aroused- although even when you were you normally weren’t this wet. “What did you do?”

Ryuzaki’s tone was indifferent, as always. “I had a feeling that when I gave you the chemical in the drink that you spilled that you would resist. However, I was prepared. When you were asleep earlier today, I managed to give you the aphrodisiac anyway.” He paused for a second. “However… I think I may have given you slightly more than what was needed to stimulate your erogenous zones, so forgive me.” Ryuzaki bent back down so he was on his knees on the ground with his head level with your crotch. “I’ll ask you one more time, Y/N, before I touch you. What do you know about Kira?”

You bit your lip, legs squirming a bit, but didn’t reply. Ryuzaki waited for your reply, but when he saw that you weren’t going to offer him anything, he turned the vibrator in his hand on and brought it to your exposed clit, making you let out a whimper and try and close your legs.

“Ah, ah, ah- no use in struggling. Your legs are bound, remember?” Ryuzaki reminded you airily, circling the vibrator around your clit lightly. The pleasure making your knees weak made you almost glad that you were leaned against the metal board- his aphrodisiac had been very effective, apparently, because even though Ryuzaki was being quite gentle you were already wriggling and moaning.

“This vibrator does have higher settings, you know,” Ryuzaki informed you. “And I must want you, I can do this all day.” He had the ghost of a smile on his face when he said this, and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. As if to make a point, he hit a button on the vibrator, and you instantly felt when the vibrations increased, your breath hitching as your back arched. “There’s no point in denying that you know anything about Kira, so why don’t you just skip the hassle and tell me what you know?”

You found it difficult to respond with the sensation from the vibrator taking over your senses, but you still managed to say something. “He- isn’t from Japan. He lives in- ah!”

Ryuzaki pressed the vibrator harder against your sensitive clit, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Don’t bother lying. I conducted an experiment aged ago that verified that Kira is in fact Japanese. Try again. And it would be appreciated if you didn’t lie this time.”

Your breathing was heavy and your body flushed, your juices spilling out onto the tips of Ryuzaki’s fingers. God, you wished he hadn’t drugged you, because the pleasure was already almost overwhelming. “Fuck- fine, he is Japanese.”

His tone was hard. “Didn’t I just tell you that I know that already? Why don’t you share with me identifying details about his identity. Try his age, appearance, birthday, or the school he goes to. Are you not a high school senior? Have you noticed anybody that stands out in particular?”

You scoffed. “Why would Kira be in high school? What high school kid has time to commit mass murders like this?”

Wrong answer. Ryuzaki turned up the vibrator higher still and dragged it down your dripping slit until it was positioned at your hole. Slowly, he slid the top of the vibrator inside of you with a very wet sound and began pumping it agonizingly slowly, up and down.

You felt your legs immediately begin to tremble, feeling your own arousal slide down your thighs. With every thrust of the vibrator you let out a whimper, squirming like crazy but unable to escape as Ryuzaki placed one hand on your thigh to still you a bit. Your whole lower body throbbed with arousal and pleasure.

“Ah- please, Ryuzaki-“

“Please? Please, what?” Ryuzaki queried, seemingly not affected at all by how needy you clearly were. “Do you want to orgasm? Is that what it is, Y/N?”

You whimpered and nodded, still squirming and moaning with the vibrator moving inside you. Ryuzaki kept his pace slow and steady, making sure to drag it out as much as possible. You didn’t know how this could feel so amazing and yet awful at the same time, your peak just within reach but escaping every time you were close enough. And you knew that Ryuzaki knew this.

“I’ll let you come all you’d like if you just give me the information I want to know,” Ryuzaki told you plainly. “I’m listening.”

You didn’t want to give Ryuzaki the satisfaction, but god, did the vibrator feel absolutely amazing going in and out of your soaking hole like this- and the aphrodisiac just made you more needy.

“Oh… oh, fuck, mmm, okay- please, Ryuzaki, stop moving the-“

“Oh, is the pleasure too much for you? You are indeed very wet…” Ryuzaki finally paused his movements with the vibrator, and despite the ache you felt in your entrance for more, you were finally able to answer Ryuzaki properly for the most part.

You let out a shaky breath, legs shaking. “I don’t know his first name, but his last name is Yagami. We’re the top students in our class, and one day when we were studying together he told me he was Kira.”

Ryuzaki paused for a moment. “Hm. You don’t seem to be lying this time.” He peered up at your flushed, glistening face before looking back down at the vibrator moist with your juices. Muttering to himself, he said, “Hm, I was right- I did dose you with too much of the aphrodisiac…” Regardless, he slipped the vibrator back inside of you, making you let out a broken moan as he pumped it in and out. “Good girl. Now answer one more question for me.”

You were trembling again, your walls squeezing around the vibrator. Your thighs were wet and sticky now as you nodded, trying to stifle the lewd sounds leaving your lips.

“Alright. How does Kira kill?”

This question made your heart skip a beat- revealing the answer, depending on what Ryuzaki did with it, could be very incriminating and have major implications for mankind as a whole. You hesitated, and Ryuzaki noticed, stopping the movements of the vibrator yet again.

“Go on,” Ryuzaki prompted, waiting expectantly. The vibrator was just centimeters away from your throbbing sex, and you could hear the vibration from beneath you.

Shit. Were you really so desperate that you’d give away something like this?

Apparently so. You wanted to blame it on the aphrodisiac, but you knew you couldn’t do that this time.

“You… won’t believe me, but… there’s something called a Death Note. Whenever you write someone’s name in it, that person dies. I don’t really know all the details, but… that’s how he kills.”

Ryuzaki seemed actually startled by this information, but he didn’t question it, so he knew you weren’t lying. He quickly covered up his surprise with his usual mask of indifference, waiting a few moments before speaking again.

“Oh. Alright, then. I’ll have to retrieve more details later, but for now that will suffice. You seem to have given me all the information you have.”

You didn’t reply, but your back was arched, your pelvis close to L’s head.

Ryuzaki looked back up all of a sudden. “Oh. Right. I suppose it’s only fair of me to let you orgasm.”

You were relieved, as the ache in your pussy was becoming too much to bear. To your surprise, though, Ryuzaki turned the vibrator off and set it on the ground beside him. But before you could be confused about it, he leaned straight down to your sex, the tip of his nose resting just above it, and began to slide his warm tongue along your clit, stopping in between licks to plant sucking kisses along your dripping cunt.

Your legs weakened instantly, and you rode Ryuzaki’s tongue as best as you could strapped to the metal board. The heat and wetness from his mouth felt better than you could have ever imagined, and as you approached your climax, your moans faded into whimpers and broken whines of Ryuzaki’s name. He wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and sucked it slowly, gently, and slipped two slender fingers inside of your sopping hole as well, pumping them back and forth like he did the vibrator.

You came mere minutes later, legs quivering violently and breathing heavily. With a moan of Ryuzaki’s name, you finished in his mouth, spilling from the corners of his lips and running down his chin as he peered up at you through his unkempt black hair. He licked all of your cum off of your thighs, running his tongue up and down the length of your thighs and making you shiver at the feeling.

When Ryuzaki was done, he pulled away from your aching and overstimulated cunt before getting back to his feet with the vibrator in hand while you were still trying to catch your breath and still your trembling thighs.

Before you could react, the detective leaned in and kissed you gently on the lips, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You shuddered as you felt your own cum slide down your chin, and Ryuzaki pulled away. “I appreciate you giving me this information. Watari will be down to provide you with a new garment shortly. It may be a while longer before I allow you to leave, but this will be quite helpful.”

And with that, he was gone before you could even answer.

[boraswan]

close your eyes

pairing: yoongi x gn! reader

words: 1k

warnings: none? first kiss. a lot of fluff. yoongi calls reader “honey” several times.

♡

You lay in his bed cuddled up together, your head on his chest and his right hand tangled in your hair. He listened contently to your rambling about your current obsession.

“I mean seriously, can you even believe that yoongi?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I believe it, honey.” He looked into your eyes, and then down to your lips, licking his softly. You two have had a few moments like this now. Everything was totally perfect, you were comfortable, even being so close to him like you were now. But every time the energy shifted, you couldn’t help but get nervous. You didn’t mean to shut him down. But just like every other time, nothing could stop the subconscious tensing of your body.

“Hey, is everything alright, honey?”

His hand had stopped moving in your hair now.

“Yes, sorry. I don’t mean to be so jumpy.” you said looking back down at the foot of the bed. You started rubbing his chest with your free hand. A failed distraction.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay. It’s just…”

He paused for a moment, obviously thinking carefully about how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Do you feel like we are moving too fast? I don’t want to rush you. I notice that every time I try to kiss you, it seems like you…shy away?”

You quickly shook your head no.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we are moving too fast. I want to kiss you Yoongi, I just…get really nervous when it’s about to happen.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay.” he said softly, smiling down at you.

“Oh…okay?” you said while letting out an awkward laugh.

Not the reaction you were expecting.

“Yes, of course honey. We shouldn’t do anything you aren’t ready for.”

It was your turn to be quiet in thought now. You wanted to kiss him. So badly. But how could you tell him the real reason why you were nervous? Maybe it would be better if you just kinda went for it. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him right?

“Honey, look at me.”

You struggled to meet his gaze, but forced yourself to anyway. You felt so exposed for some reason. You hadn’t even told him yet. There was no way this was going to work. You definitely couldn’t kiss him if you struggled to just make eye contact.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

He was making you too flustered. You already felt overwhelmed by the situation, really not expecting to have been called out like you were.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. Not if it’s got you worked up like this.”

He really wasn’t going to drop it. You were silent for a few more moments.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just me.” he said, much softer this time.

“Tell you what, I’ll close my eyes while you tell me, will that help?” A little thing you guys did when you had something overwhelming to share.

Yoongi had suggested he close his eyes when you told him you had a crush on him. Oddly enough, it worked.

“Yes, please.”

He shut them.

Here goes nothing.

“I haven’t kissed anyone before. I really do want to do it with you. I promise. It just, makes me so nervous because… I don’t know how. And I don’t wanna mess up, or mess us up.” you said, looking at the ceiling.

Yoongi took your silence as a sign that you were done, opening his eyes.

But you were still looking at the ceiling, dim lighting in the room barely allowing you to see the whole thing. But you didn’t need to be looking at him to feel his eyes on you.

“You won’t.” he said seriously.

“W-What?”

“You won’t mess us up. I like everything about you, no matter how you kiss me. No matter if you kiss me. We’ll go at your pace, honey.”

He was so good to you.

“I like everything about you too.” you said sheepishly.

“I’m glad sweetheart.” he said chuckling softly.

He used the arm you were laying on to pull you into a tight hug, and brought the other one to rub your back up and down in soothing circles.

“Yoongi?”

He loosened his grip to look down at you.

“Yes, honey?”

He looked at you so lovingly. You thought you were going to melt.

“Would it be okay if … I kissed you now?”

You fiddled with the neckline of his shirt nervously. Smiling, he gently nudged your face to look at him.

“Of course, honey.”

“Can you … close your eyes?”

His chest shook with laughter.

“Yes, love.”

He looked at you lovingly, rubbing up and down your arms. Shifting the two of you to be laying down facing each other, he made sure you could lean in easily.

“Are you okay? Do you still want to do this?” he asked softly.

“Yes. And I’m okay.” You smiled up at him.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.” you breathed out.

“Okay pretty girl.”

He sent you one last smile, before slowly letting his eyes fall shut.

You looked down at his lips, and back up to his closed eyes. You didn’t feel like running away. You felt completely calm. It was perfect.

You scooted in a little bit, tentatively resting your hand on the side of his neck. Taking one last deep breath, you leaned in slowly. Placing a chaste kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. He brought his hand up to the side of your face as soon as your mouths met. Not trapping you, but a comforting embrace. Remind you that it was just him, and it was okay. You allowed yourself to relax fully, closing your eyes at last.

When you pulled away and looked at him, his eyes were still closed. His face was expressionless, completely relaxed. You started moving your thumb on his throat back and forth, causing him to slowly open his eyes. His silence unnerved you.

“W-Was it okay?”

He looked at you with a dazed, far away look in his eyes, one you couldn’t read.

“Can I give you another one?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out.

♡

plz I love him so much

thx for reading <3

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo x Child of Hades

Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x Gn!Reader (platonic/familial)

It was difficult being a child of Hades

I mean everyone seemed to hate you and for whatever reason you were put into the lotus casino

You spent decades there and unbeknownst to you- your half siblings also stayed there during the same time

Well that was the past- you were currently in the underworld and because of your fathers liking towards your mortal parent you’ve been getting spoiled

Especially since you’re one of few children of his

So while walking around Hades palace you were called upon by your father

I mean sure, you hadn’t done anything bad in particular but the constant bickering from your step mom really got on your nerves

So maybe hades sensed that- who knows

Well what you do know is the reason you were called upon

That reason being your half sibling that you were currently made aware of

His name was Nico and now you were gonna be forced to hang out with each other on part of your father

It is a hassle, but Nico's chauffeur Jules Albert ended up driving you to wherever you were going in the end

You two were practically glued to the opposite sides of the car but once you got to your destination (a mall) you were left to “bond” or whatever

You half expected Nico to immediately leave your side but he surprisingly didn’t and actually walked around with you

You both went by stores (and he was weirdly obsessed with hot topic) but whatever

It wasn’t until you both sat at the food court that you guys finally started talking the same language

You learned of his background (when he was born and that he stayed at the lotus casino) which you ended up revealing was your backstory

You two bonded over it sorta but only really when you both ventured across the underworld

You don’t remember how it happened but you were suddenly attacked and even if you’d hate to admit it- you really didn’t think Nico’d have your back

So when he suddenly attacked and slayed the monster with zero hesitation it took you by surprise

I mean it’d be a lie to say you two haven’t been getting closer and closer but there was still a barrier and obvious distance Nico kept you at

This instance made a thick tension and while you two were setting camp while in the underworld he began to talk

He was pleased to know that you’re from around the same time period and the evening (if you can even call it that, the whole underworld is basically pure night) was spent with you two chatting away with the troubles of having to go back into modern day society

It was nice for Nico- I mean when he was first introduced to you he thought the worst

Which can you even blame him?

Well regardless, knowing he has another sibling is nice

I mean you’re obviously not all that close but lately he’s been relating to you and the two of you had made jokes about your dad and old lives

Which in a way is nice, especially since most people get uncomfortable when he just wants to talk about how he feels

Well eventually the conversation turns to the attack he had launched on that monster that was going at you

You took note of how panicked he seemed to protect you and you voiced that

He seemed stiff and when you reassured him you didn’t need to know more he said it was fine

And explained the whole ordeal with Bianca and the lotus casino and how in a way, you’re really his sibling now

I mean actually

You two have fun but argue and it’s never too much

Not to mention how you just get each other

He voices that and when he’s done he’s grateful you don’t take it as weird or awkward and just listen

After that you two are definitely more close and if you chose to vent too then he’d be there for you too

On a lighter note, you two end up realizing you have a lot of your powers in common

I mean you can raise the dead, shadow travel, etc so you two definitely compare and improve together

On a lesser good note, you’re introduced to camp

Everyone’s shocked to see you since they didn’t expect hades to have another secret child

You get pretty much the same treatment as Nico unless you’re more extroverted and approachable

Which makes things worse because you two start being compare

Which is absolute butt cheek

I’d imagine that if you meet when Nico’s younger then he’d be a bit hesitant to get close to you

Especially since it might feel like a betrayal to Bianca but he soon realized you were your own person and his love for you as his sibling wouldn’t be a crime

Anyway I’d imagine you’d be the first person he’d come out to

He’s definitely buzzing with nervous energy but if you reassure him and if you’re queer and tell him too, well he’s glad to know you trust him enough and that you basically gave him collateral in case you ever betrayed him

Either way he’s glad that you support him and becomes a bit more confident, even if by a little

Eventually Nico gets with Will and you’d probably you are the first person he told about it and introduced you two if he didn’t already

Either way there’s some ups and downs with Nico as a sibling but he’s overall pretty cool as a brother

Just a bit emo

[gojo-enthusiast]

Sunday Kind of Love

Series — My Husband Toji Zenin

It had been 4 months since Toji and you’s big fight, you both made it to couples therapy every week, on time and intently invested. “You both have grown a lot in just a short time, they way you both sit right next to each other now, rather than far apart like it was in the beginning.” Your therapist exclaimed, smiling. “Thank you, we are working hard to maintain open communication and getting to know one another, but also growing from the past.” You smiled, holding your husbands hand. “That is great to hear. How do you feel Toji?” She asks, “I feel closer to my wife.” He says, he was simple, to the point. “Good! You should be! Now, question for you guys, how is your sex life with one another? Are we maintaining a consistent and mutually consensual sex life?” She questions. “Oh.” You had blurted, not expecting her to ask such a lewd question. “You don’t have to answer. Just make sure to think about that. Alright guys, we are done for the day. I will see you two next week, same time and day?” She said ending the hour long session.

The drive back home was more silent, you both hadn’t thought about sex, well… You hadn’t, Toji thought about sex with you every moment of the day, most of the times, he was fisting his cock in the shower, trying to blow off the sexual frustration.

“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” You nervously say. “That isn’t nice to call your husband fat.” Toji jokes. “Toji.” You giggle, feeling your muscles loosen. “We haven’t had sex in 8 months.” Toji states plainly. “Yeah, it has been a while hasn’t it?” You question. “Yeah.” He says back. He began to feel his cock start to harden, just the mere thought of his wife naked in front of him, had him already aching. “I guess we should just ease into it.” You quietly say. “Yeah.” He huffs out lightly.

4 days go bye, and Toji got stuck with overtime, making you feel insecure, you knew he was working but a little thought in the back of your head told you, he was fucking some other woman, since you hadn’t had sex with him. It was 8pm and you called your husband, “Toji?” You say through the phone. “Yes dear?” He questions. “When are you going to be home?” You question, “I am finishing up this last email, then I will be on my way. You hungry?” Toji questions. All of a sudden you burst into tears, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He frantically asked, “I-I don’t want y-you to have s-s-sex with someone else, I only want you to have sex with m-me!” You cry. “Baby doll, what are you talking about? I’m not having sex with anyone, only you.” He soothingly says. “I will be home in an hour, okay?” He says, “O-Okay.” You calm down. “I love you y/n” He says, “I love you too Toji.” You whimper a little.

And there was your husband, an hour later. He came home, and saw his darling wife, laid on the couch asleep. He picked you up, taking you to your shared bedroom, lying you down. Crawling in beside you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you.” He says, kissing the crown of your head.

You woke up the next morning, earlier than usual. The sun wasn’t out yet, still darkness, with a tiny bit of light. The black out curtains, not closed all the way. You look at the clock, seeing 6AM. You feel a heat coming from beside you, and it’s your husband, sound asleep. You leaned in, looking at him, smelling a scent of soap. “He must have showered when he got home.” You smile faintly. You stared at his face in admiration, it was Sunday, which meant he didn’t have work, and you two could be in bed all day. Yours eyes drifted down to his manhood area, you saw a little bit of a bulge, feeling testy, wanting to see a little more, you lifted the blankets, looking closer. His manhood erect, hard. “Mmm?” Toji groaned in his sleep. Your womanhood begin to feel heat, your breast perking at the sight of your shirtless husband. You softly placed your hand on his manhood, lightly stroking him over his sweats, kissing the side of his neck.

“Mmm, baby?” He groans, his eyes fluttering open. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, wondering what brought you to the conclusion that touching your sleeping husband was okay. “Why’d you stop?” He groaned, feeling his cock throb. “I-I” You stutter, your cheeks red. “Why you nervous?” He says sitting up. You sat there not saying a word, you were innocent, you were not used to doing these things, especially since the last time you two had sex, was almost a year ago. “You can touch me.” He says, kissing you on your lips. “Can I?” You question. “Yeah.” He responds back. “C-can you take your pants off, please?” You ask sweetly, making your husbands heart mush, he loved how innocent his little wife is. “I want to make you feel good Toji.” You said. “Then do so.” He cockily said, leaning back with his arms behind his head after he stripped out of his pants and boxers.

“You’re really big.” You said quietly, you knew your husband was big, but you forgot how big. “Scared?” He smirked. “No!” You huffed. You spit on the tip of his cock, stroking him slowly, it was early in the morning, you both were still waking up, so you tried to keep your movements slow and graceful. “Fuck.” You hear your husband groan. “Faster, please.” He adds. You quick up your pace, Toji’s cock already twitching. “Fuck— I’m about to cum.” He huffs out. Toji wasn’t one to cum fast, but it was early morning, and he also hadn’t felt the touch of his wife in months. His body was so sensitive to everything you did, he was obsessed. After a few strokes later, he spilled all over your hand, and you continued jerking until he grabbed onto your hand to get you to stop. “N-no more.” He huffed, “did it feel good?” You ask, “did that feel good? Yes. That felt fucking amazing.” He said catching his breath. Still grabbing onto your hand that was wrapped around his cock. He finally let go, and you brought your hand to your mouth, looking at him, he looked at you. You stuck your tongue out, licking his cum that had coated part of your hand. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, his cock springing right back up. “You just fucked up.” He growled, flipping you over to lay on your back. He had your cunt in his mouth in a matter of seconds. Licking you all over, stuffing his tongue into your tight hole. “Taste so fucking good.” He says, your moans filling up the room, you were melting, your essence coating his chin and mouth. He began to suck on your clit, while his middle finger slowly started stroking inside of you, Toji slowly stretching you out. “Ah— Toji!” You moan loudly, your cunt making so much noise. “Shhh baby— she’s talking to me.” He says almost in a hush. You moans at his words, but shutting your mouth. “Delicious little pussy.” He says into your cunt. Fucking his tongue into you, while his fingers did most of the work. “Toji, please put it in.” you moan out, your back arched. “Not yet, your to tight baby.” He said into your cunt. “Please- ahh! Toji— fuck.” You are moaning, coming undone on his face. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You groan out. The little knot in your stomach finally snapping, finally finishing, while your husband is licking up everything coming out. “Fuck!” He says, “taste so fucking good.” He groans into you. You tug at his hair, wanting him to come up to you. He comes up, planting a kiss on your lips. “Come inside me.” You whisper into his ear.

“Fuckkk—“ he groans, as he strokes his cock, and aligns it to your cunt. Slowly pushing in, he stretches you out slowly. Making sure you are comfortable. “You alright?” He huffs out. “Y-yeah. So-so big.” You moan out. “Fuck!” He groans loudly, pushing more of himself into you. He began rocking his hips after pushing himself all the way inside of you. He would go fast, then slow down, and he would repeat that method, making you wrap your arms around his neck and would scratch all over his back. He didn’t know it yet, but his back began bleeding from your nails. Which would make him fuck you again when he sees it.

“Fuck yes” he groaned, going quicker, feeling your gummy walls tighten all around him. “Let me make you a momma.” He moaned into your ear, moaning was not something Toji did. Which meant he was vulnerable with you. “Ah Toji.” You moan back, tightening around him. “Make me a mommy.” You moaned as he quickened his pace. Despite his quickness, he was gentle, he was quick, not hard. He gentle caressed your sides, as you shredded his back with your nails. Toji’s stokes began to get sloppy, and a few minutes later, he was fucking his cum deep into you.

He picked you up, pulling out for just a moment, lifting you in front of the mirror, so you could see your cunt. And he thrusted back into you, “watch me fuck my seed into you.” He groaned into your ear. He was so fucked out of his brain, all he wanted to do was fill your mind and body up with only him. “Look!” He groaned loudly, you moaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. “So pretty. So good for me.” He kissed your temple, fucking you out of your mind. “You see that doll, I’m so nice.” He said with a smirk, sweat sliding down his face. “I’m so good to my baby, I’m even letting you watch me fuck you. You like watching daddy fuck you?” He teased. “YES YES YES YES TOJI, YES PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!” You screamed, you body convulsing. He had you held up with one hand while the other arm snaked around was rubbing your clit. “TOJI FUCK!” You screamed, crying out. A couple of flicks later of your clit, you squirted all over the mirror, and your husband continued to fuck into you, until he dumped a second load into you. Fucking his cum into you once again. “Look at that baby, look how we’re joined together. Together forever.” He said into your ear. You looked down at your cunt, see your cum and his coming together, coating his cock, and filling up your cunt. “So beautiful.” He groaned even more. Fucking you again and again. You both kept at it like two animals in heat, until the afternoon sun was blazing. You both were lying on the floor with a pillow and blanket, as you rode his cock. Spasming all over, and he filling you up again. At this point he finally just started shooting blanks. He was empty and you were exhausted. You fell on top of him, and passed out. He caressed your back, “All mine.” He whispered into your ear. Drifting off to sleep along time with you.

[heliads]

sorry to send in two requests but if you've got the time Luke Patterson x reader where she is his tutor for English or something and he develops a crush, so even when he understands the stuff she's teaching him he pretends to be confused so that the tutoring sessions last longer. And then one day he gets a good grade and she's proud of him but that means the sessions are over so he builds up the courage to ask her out? You can put this at the bottom of the list or not even write it because I know how swamped your requests get, but ily.

do not apologize for two requests!! my blog exists for you!! and jatp s2 may be dead but my feelings for that show are not. xoxo

masterlist

Luke Patterson is currently fighting a one-man war against his English class, and he is losing. Badly. This was not supposed to be his problem class, he was thinking the biggest struggle would be math or science, but surprise surprise, there’s no such thing as a class you can just skate through. He tried to skate through English. He tried really, really hard, but instead of Spark Notes-ing his way through whatever classic book they threw his way, Luke’s staring at a bright red D on his latest essay.

This would happen to be the most recent essay they were assigned, the one Luke pushed off until the last minute because he was too invested in getting some good songs down on paper. He hadn’t meant to procrastinate, he never does, it’s just that whenever Luke had a spare hour or two, it’s always far more tempting to head out to the studio and mess around with some chord progressions than to do homework.

This essay had gone just like all the other ones so far this year. The book had been assigned, the essay followed not soon after, and Luke told himself that he was going to start it on time for a change. The only problem was that he came home late that day after a shift at his job, so he couldn’t start it that day, and then he was studying for a test the next day, and after that he was working on songs. Before he knew it, it was the night before and he was speed writing to get everything down in time. Luke doesn’t even think he had time to proofread before turning in that mess.

So yeah, he shouldn’t really be surprised about this grade in particular. Still, he isn’t pleased about it. He doesn’t want to see the look on his parents’ face when he dodges another question about his grades, nor listen to all the other kids in his class talk about how easy that essay prompt was. Everything just makes him feel worse.

And, if Luke’s day couldn’t get any better, his English teacher pulls him aside after class to talk about it.

“I noticed your last few assignments haven’t been going as expected,” she says sympathetically, “is there anything you want to tell me about that?”

There’s a lot Luke wants to tell her, such as the fact that this class is dry as a saltine and twice as bland. They’ve spent the last few classes just going over social hierarchies around the time when the book was written, talk about boring. If Luke wanted to study history, he’d read a textbook.

He can’t say all that without damaging his final grade even more, though, so Luke plasters on a grin and does his best impression of an earnest student who’s just had a bad string of luck. “Not really, I’ve just been so busy recently that I didn’t have enough time to really ponder the prompt, you know?”

Usually, this is Luke’s best strategy for getting out of these kinds of nonsense conferences. He’ll whip out a few key words like ‘time commitments’ and whatnot and his teachers will fall for it every time.

He might have done this too often, though, because his teacher just nods and refuses to let him go. “That makes sense to me. Do you think it would help to spend a little more time exploring the prompt or connecting the book to the essay topics?”

“Sure,” Luke says vaguely. He’s only half paying attention; he just saw Reggie outside the door mouthing the words what did you do?? as dramatically as he could.

The teacher looks pleased by this. “That’s what I thought. I’ve gone ahead and signed you up for some tutoring sessions, you’ll start this afternoon after school.”

Luke blinks. “Wait, what?” Clearly, he hasn’t been paying attention nearly enough. Since when was tutoring on the table?

The teacher spreads her hands. “You need a little more help and organization to stay on track. Tutoring is the perfect answer to this.”

“Is it?” Luke asks feebly.

“Absolutely,” the teacher decides, and that’s that. Luke tries to wheedle his way out of it through repetition of how busy he is, like, all the time, but it doesn’t matter. She’s caught him in a half-lie and there’s nothing he can do to avoid it.

Reggie’s waiting for Luke outside the door when he finally leaves. “What happened in there?”

“Pure misery,” Luke groans, and contemplates giving himself a concussion by ‘accidentally’ falling down the stairs so he can go home without having to go to tutoring.

Unfortunately, Reggie enlists Alex in keeping Luke free of head trauma, and so he finds himself in an empty classroom later that afternoon, mournfully watching all of the other students leave the school with no doubt wonderful plans awaiting them.

Luke’s just starting to wonder if his tutor isn’t going to show up after all (after fifteen minutes, he’s legally allowed to leave, right) when someone slides into the seat in front of him.

“Sorry about being late,” they gasp, “I just found out I was doing this like ten minutes ago.”

Luke breaks his desolate stare out the window to glance at his tutor and instantly, he feels the crushing weight of shame bear down on him tenfold. It would have been one thing to have a total stranger be his tutor, someone Luke could avoid looking at in the hallways and never speak to again, but he knows this girl. More importantly, he’s thought she was cute for at least the last four years.

This is the worst case scenario, then. Y/N L/N is smart, she’s pretty, and judging by the fact that Luke always sees her in a group of friends laughing at her jokes, she’s funny, too. Definitely someone Luke would want to impress through gigs or shows instead of, say, his crumbling English grades.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, and Luke realizes that she’s probably been waiting for him to say something. Great, he can’t even introduce himself properly.

“Luke,” he answers, “but you probably knew that already.”

Y/N laughs, and judging by the slightly manic tone behind it, she’s just about as composed about the whole thing as he is. That makes him settle slightly in his chair, lowering his guard. “I was told that I would be tutoring you when I was trying to leave class. Ms. Brown pulled me aside when the bell rang and told me about it.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke grumbles.

The corners of Y/N’s lips quirk up before she manages to tamp them down again, and if Luke weren’t totally out of his mind, he might even say that Y/N has the same attitude towards their English teacher as he does. That would certainly make this whole tutoring experience a lot more interesting.

“So,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound official, “you wanted to talk about essay pointers, right?”

Luke starts to say something about how he didn’t want any of this, actually, but Y/N arches a brow and he relents. “Yeah, essay stuff. The last one didn’t go over too hot.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, contemplating this. “Did you agree with her grading?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits, “she wasn’t wrong to mark me down, I kind of did it the night before in one sitting.”

Y/N frowns. “Really? Why’d you put it off so long? I thought you liked writing. Whenever I see you, you’re always jotting something down in that notebook of yours.”

Luke grins. “You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy, you know.” He’s obviously holding back a laugh, though, so the comment has no trace of a barb.

Y/N rolls her eyes, although her face looks a little hot at the moment. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright,” he says, hands raised in mock surrender, “you’re right, I do like writing.”

“Then why wait until the last minute to do the essay? I mean, I get not having a ton of time to work on assignments, but if you really do enjoy writing, it shouldn’t be all that bad, right?”

Luke groans. “ This is different. It’s not fun writing,” he tries to excuse himself.

It sounds bad even to him. Already, Luke can see how this is going to play out– she’ll laugh at him, maybe, say that someone who just got a grade like him can’t possibly be thinking about writing and fun in any way at all. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she nods and smiles at him. A real smile. Not mocking in any way.

“What is fun writing, then?” She asks.

Luke blinks in surprise. “Well, writing songs is fun, I guess,” he stammers, “stuff that actually matters, you know? All these essays are the exact same, but songs are all different. That’s why I care about them and not some pointless paper.”

Y/N nods. “That makes sense to me. So you release music, right?”

Luke isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but he’s perfectly happy to talk about music instead of that offensive red scribble all over his paper, so he plays along. “Yeah, me and my band. We try to, at least.”

“Have you ever gotten a review that bothered you? Not because they didn’t like it, but because they disliked your songs for the wrong reason? Like you had a whole story in mind for your album but the critics just ignored it?” She prompts him.

“Yeah,” Luke says, eyes widening with irritation, “Man, it’s so annoying. You go to all the trouble of writing out these ideas, and you make them have a really good meaning, too, and then it’s like they never read it at all. It makes me so mad sometimes, I want to write a column or something in response about how they totally missed my point.”

“Like, say, an argumentative essay about the real strengths of your chosen piece of writing?” Y/N says as casually as she can.

Luke’s about to argue and say that’s not like this at all, but on second thought, it is. It totally is. “Wait, you’re right. I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. Y/N L/N,” he decides on the spot, “I really like you.”

She grins back at him. “Luke Patterson, I like you too.”

That settles it for him. Luke had been annoyed at the thought of having to suffer through tutoring beforehand, but maybe he’ll be alright with it now. Y/N isn’t a part of the oppressive legion of teachers all conniving to make his life a living hell because he wants to be a musician instead of a doctor or a banker, she’s on his side. That makes it all better somehow.

And, unsurprisingly, it is better. Luke actually ends up having a really good time in his tutoring sessions with Y/N. They don’t feel like tutoring at all, more like a chance to hang out with a friend. They talk about Jane Austen and tell awesome jokes, read Shakespeare and spend more and more time together. Luke knows this is only a temporary thing until his grades get back up, but it’s too easy to forget that.

Until, one day, it isn’t. His English teacher hands back an essay with a bright red ‘A’ marked on the front, and tells him that she’s proud of all the progress he’s made so quickly. Instead of a sigh of relief, the only thing escaping Luke’s lips is a desolate sigh. After all, if Luke’s improved to this point, that kind of means his tutoring sessions will be over, right?

Y/N doesn’t know that, though. Y/N doesn’t have access to his grades. All she knows is what Luke tells her, and if informing her of his latest essay win means she’ll stop seeing him after school, why should Luke let slip a single syllable?

So, later that day, when Y/N asks him how the latest essay went, Luke shrugs and pretends to be disappointed. “I’d hoped for more,” he says, “she, uh, didn’t like my commentary.”

“Really?” Y/N questions, frowning slightly, “I thought you were really good at that.”

Luke’s eyes widen, caught in a lie. “Who knows with teachers, right?” He laughs weakly.

Y/N pretends to shudder. “I know, right? I feel like half of your grade is literally just how much she likes you. English classes are always so subjective.”

“Subjective?” Luke asks, grinning and propping his chin up on his hand, “Tell me about that.”

Y/N laughs. “Only if you promise we’ll talk Jane Eyre immediately afterwards. Immediately.”

“I so swear,” Luke intones, holding up his right hand with all the solemnity of a president being sworn into office.

Y/N swats him on the shoulder with her notebook, but she obliges, and maybe they don’t talk about Jane immediately. Maybe they laugh a little longer than usual. And maybe, just maybe, Luke thinks that he’s perfectly fine with obscuring the truth if it means he can have more of this when he needs it the most.

The truth, unfortunately, has a habit of making itself heard regardless of who is inclined to hide it. Luke comes into their usual study spot in the library one day to see Y/N waiting for him, not already in her seat like normal but standing tentatively at the side.

He frowns, slinging his backpack down on the ground and pulling up a chair. “Everything alright? You look like you’re about to run. If you’ve got something planned, we can do this another day.”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “No, I’m free all day.”

Luke gestures towards the table. “Then sit down, my legs are getting tired just looking at you. We’ve got stuff to study, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to ask about,” Y/N says, “Ms. Brown stopped me after class today, said she had someone else she wanted me to tutor. I said I was already booked with you and she was confused. Apparently you’ve been doing just fine for quite some time.”

Luke feels his breath catch in his throat. This is not how he’d wanted Y/N to find out. For what must be the hundredth time this year, Luke sends out a silent curse to all meddlesome English teachers.

“Yeah,” he says as carefully as he can, “I have, but only because of your expert tutoring. It’s like antibiotics, you know? You don’t stop taking ‘em when you start feeling better, only when the prescription is over.”

Y/N blinks at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to feel like everything is slipping out of control in an instant. “It was a simile, sorry. A bad one. All I mean is that we don’t have to stop this just because I got a good grade or two.”

Y/N almost looks like she’s smiling, but that could just be Luke being delusional. “I thought you didn’t want to do tutoring.”

“I didn’t at the start, but you’re different. We’re cool. We are cool, right?” Luke starts rambling more and more with each passing second, but he can’t help it. He’s overthinking everything. What if he’s literally just been a tutee this whole time, and she doesn’t think they’re friends at all?

Y/N stares at him a second longer, then takes a seat at last. “Luke Patterson, are you telling me that you like my company so much that you’re willing to keep going to extra English practice just to see me?”

Luke can feel his face heating up, but he does his best to ignore it. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds–” He still has a little bit of self control left, so he cuts himself off before he can make a truly terrible mistake.

Y/N catches him, though. “It sounds like what?”

“It sounds like I like you,” he admits, and Y/N’s smiling at him, so he decides to take the leap of faith and just do what he’s been wanting to do for quite some time. Since the start of this, actually. “And I do like you. I like you a lot. I might not need the tutoring anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you. So what if we met up sometime soon? Not for English, for us.”

Luke decides that he likes Y/N’s smile more than anything. “Are you asking me out?” She says.

“I am,” he affirms. “Are you saying yes?”

“I am,” she repeats.

Suddenly, Luke feels like the luckiest kid of all. Maybe he does have to throw in a good word or two for meddlesome English teachers after all. Sometimes they have a way of connecting you with the best people in the world.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @callsign-scully, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie