#i think I just hadn't registered that until I just heard him say it in his newest video lol

[minecraft-sideblog-tm]

Unironically, the phrase "lovely jubbly" has become a pretty normal part of my internal dialogue just from hearing it in Joel Smallish Beans videos

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧JJK Men as Yanderes ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Mahito, Choso Kamo

Word count: Each piece is roughly 750 words

Warnings: implied sabotage (Gojo, Toji, Choso), invasion of privacy (Gojo), kidnapping (Gojo, Sukuna), murder (Geto), kidnapping mention (Nanami, Toji), suicidal ideation (Nanami), light gore (Gojo, Sukuna, Mahito), reader injury (Sukuna), threats of bodily harm/mutilation (Mahito), sexual assault (Mahito), implied murder (Choso)

Satoru Gojo

You're nothing special. Not compared to him, at least. With no long line of sorcery or blue blood running through your veins, your family is just about as average as it gets.

You're nothing special---not to Jujutsu society, anyway. But who gives a shit about that? To Satoru, you're more than special.

You're everything.

He's always been the strongest, and yet, when he's with you, he just feels so weak.

Like a schoolgirl fawning over her latest crush, Satoru often finds himself checking his phone while away on missions, hoping to see your name appear on his screen. It doesn't have to be anything special—even a picture of some ugly animal with the caption "That's u, lol." is enough to get him going. Just knowing you were thinking of him at all, even in an unflattering light, makes him feel lightheaded in a way not even battle can emulate.

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But he can't get enough.

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel, he'd kneel. If you asked him to beg, he'd beg. If you asked him to rip out a man's heart and present it to you, he'd ask if he should do so on a silver or gold platter.

If you asked him to let you go, however...

You sigh and fall back onto the couch. It'd been a week since your landlord mysteriously kicked you out, and Satoru took you in with a frankly suspicious eagerness. To say that he was an overbearing roommate was to put it lightly.

He'd follow you around the flat from room to room, enter your bedroom without knocking, and once, you even caught him sifting through your laundry. He wasn't even embarrassed about getting caught, let alone the fact that he had done it in the first place.

You decided to start searching for a new roommate after that.

"Y'know," Satoru says, slinging his arms around your shoulders---you hadn't even heard him approach. You quickly close your computer, which happens to have very clearly been showcasing cheap apartments in the area. "I could have just taken ya'. Snatched you up off the street like some kidnapper."

"What...?"

"---But I decided to play nice instead. I thought we could forge a real relationship that way. But you've just been pushing me away. I'm starting to think I've been too lenient with ya'. Like maybe I should have just locked you up instead."

"That isn't funny, Satoru."

"Who said I was joking?" You open your mouth to respond, but Satoru cuts you off before you get the chance. "You want dinner? I can order us takeout. Anywhere you'd like."

Drop it, his eyes say. You do.

That very night, you pack a bag and head to the nearest hotel. In the morning, you'll ask your job if they can transfer you to another city. For tonight, you'd like to just get a good night's rest without the lingering fear of waking up to his figure looming over you.

You wake up to familiar surroundings. It doesn't register as strange until you remember checking into a hotel the night prior. You shoot up to get a better look around. Sure enough, you're in your own bedroom, not the hotel's.

But how...?

You're sure you left last night. Did you dream it? You go to check your phone, but it's not there.

Just then, the door opens. "Oh, you're up," your roommate says.

"Satoru, what's---"

"I called you in sick for work today," he says casually, "and tomorrow. Actually, starting today, you're unemployed."

"What?!"

"Don't worry. I can take care of us. I've got more than enough money."

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel...If you asked him to beg...

If you asked him to let you go, however...

"C'mon, baby, you know I can't do that," he'd say, arms around your waist and head in your lap. "Ask me for something else, anything. Just not that. Do you want a pony? We can get a pony."

"No---"

"What about a cat? Or maybe you prefer dogs? I could get a purebred if you wanted one. I know it gets lonely being in the house all by yourself."

"I want to go outside, Satoru."

"We could get a fish tank, I guess. Though I doubt they'd make good company."

"Listen to me---"

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. Wouldn't want to compete for my lover's attention in my very own home, you know?"

Suguru Geto

When he was at his lowest, Suguru thought of you. It kept him going. It kept him sane.

So, of course, you were the first person he asked to join him in the creation of the new world. His world.

"Our world," he said, the look on his face desperate, pleading.

You declined, of course. His ideals went against everything you stood for as a Jujutsu sorcerer. As a person.

He took it well---or seemed to, at least. He flashed you a plastered-on smile and released your hands from his, leaving you with no further fuss.

For a while, that seemed to be the end of it.

Life went on. Though you would occasionally catch wind of his nefarious deeds, dealing with such things never fell within your purview. In fact, it almost seemed as if the higher-ups were purposefully keeping you from any cases that involved him.

You had all but forgotten about that fateful evening when a call from the higher-ups had you booking a flight to Okayama.

Apparently, there had been a sudden influx of cursed spirits in the region. And as the lead researcher in cursed phenomena, you were called to the scene.

You had already been given a file outlining the happenings, but out of courtesy, Yumi, the assistant supervisor assigned to the case alongside you, filled you in regardless.

"It's not that there's a higher rate of cursed spirits being born in this area," she said. "They're migrating here."

"Hmm," you look over the map on your tablet again; colour-coded dots mark the locations and grades of each (presumed) non-native sighting. The spacings are far from natural. They seem to have been made with intent, almost as if forming a pattern of some kind.

"We've set up a barrier to track the arrival of new cursed spirits. Nearly every curse from fourth to semi-first grade in the neighbouring towns has been coming here. Some of our windows have even spotted them moving together in groups."

"Was there anything strange about their behaviour? Like moving in single-file lines, with strange movements, or perhaps even speaking?" Yumi lights up.

"Yes, actually! They were all---"

Your screen flashes, suddenly restarting the tablet without your input.

"Huh...?"

"[Last]-San..." Your supervisor almost whispers. You tear your eyes from your screen to hers as she weakly holds up her tablet to you.

Over four hundred cursed spirits have been spotted crossing the Okayama border within the past fifteen minutes.

Your tablet finishes restarting, and you scramble to view the map again, hoping what you just saw was nothing more than a glitch.

The loading screen seems to take ages to complete, but when it does, the map shows exactly what you feared.

Oh. You get it now.

The pattern it was trying to spell out. It's "愛"

---"Love".

You hear a scream.

"Ah, it's good to see you again. How long has it been now?" A voice---one you're all too familiar with---says. "Two, no, maybe three years?" Suguru is wiping blood off of his hands. You don't want to look down. You can't look down.

Yumi is dead.

You looked down.

"I'm not sure why I phrased that like a question I didn't know the answer to," he says, smiling in a way that makes your heart ache. "I've been keeping track down to the days, you see."

"Were you...behind this?" You've never been one for combat. You can't use reverse cursed technique to save Yumi. You can't fight to save the others. There's nothing you can do.

You've never felt so helpless.

"I did," he admits casually. "I recently got my hands on a new curse. First-grade 'Pied Piper', its technique creates a sort of call-and-response between itself and other curses of a lower grade through a musical frequency only other curses can perceive. With that technique, I can manipulate the movements of curses I haven't yet acquired without leaving my residuals behind."

"But if it's coming from the technique of a curse you possess, your residuals would still be left behind," you counter.

"Ah, as quick on the uptake as always, [First]," he praises. "You're right, or you would be if this curse were under the control of my curse spirit manipulation. No, this curse was tamed, not subjugated."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He's going to kill you once he's finished explaining.

"I've always appreciated an inquisitive mind," he says. "especially when it's your inquisitive mind." Your mouth forms a vague 'O' shape as the realisation dawns on you.

"愛"

"Love"

...You're never getting away.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is someone who has never really been all that content with life.

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Sometimes, on his darkest days, Nanami thinks about what would have happened if he had joined Haibara—or better yet, if he had never even been born in the first place. If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?

But then he met you, and suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like your presence suddenly made all the wrongs in the world right, but it did make him feel like they all mattered just a little bit less. Like maybe all this suffering was worth it, if it also meant he could see you smile.

So, of course, he'd do anything to keep you safe. To protect that smile.

The easiest way to ensure that, of course, would be to clip your wings. To lock you away somewhere where only he could reach you. A songbird that only sings for him, a dove in a birdcage.

He'd treat you like royalty, of course. His job pays well, but he's a somewhat frugal person by nature, so he has plenty of savings lying around. Whatever you wanted, he'd get you.

As long as you stayed safe, he couldn't ask for anything more. Even if you didn't love him, as long as your smile could be protected, that would be enough.

He's in the middle of researching what kind of restraints would cause the least damage and irritation to your skin when he realises what a grave mistake he was about to make.

'If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?'

What if...

What if you started feeling that way, too?

What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?

He could offer you all the material things in the world, but if it comes at the price of your freedom, it might still not make you happy. After all, it was the same for him.

If money didn't make him happy, why would you be different?

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Nanami is worse.

He doesn't deserve you. It's with this thought in mind that he begins to avoid you. He refuses to meet your gaze, leaves the room when you enter, and declines all missions that involve your presence.

He feels like he's going crazy. Separation has made him sloppy and reckless. He comes home with more injuries, and a part of him thinks he deserves it.

Bags begin to form under his eyes as two weeks go by without the haven of your presence. He sees you everywhere now. The girl across the street is dressed in a substyle you like. The model in that magazine has your eyes. The cafe down the block is having a special on your coffee order.

"Nanamin, why're you avoiding [Last] all of a sudden? They do something to you?" Nanami scoffs at the remark but doesn't answer. He turns to leave but stops when Gojo continues. "Y'know, they actually came cryin' to me about it. Said they had no idea why you suddenly started treatin' 'em like they've got the plague." Nanami turns to look at Gojo, who's fiddling with his blindfold. "You should make up with them soon. Can't leave our cute little assistant supervisor feeling so down, you know?"

Nanami hates to admit it, but Gojo might be right.

'What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?'

Fuck. He can't do anything right.

He really doesn't deserve you, but what can he do? If he leaves, you won't smile anymore, but if he stays, you'll be smiling at a monster.

But what can he do? He'd do anything to protect that smile.

Even if it means hiding his fangs.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is a man who takes what he wants and doesn't care if he has to get his hands dirty in order to take it.

Naturally, this applies to you as well.

It's strange, he's never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. Not his past flings, not even his late wife.

Toji is no stranger to romance. He was married, after all. He knows love. It's a familiar feeling.

That's why he's inclined to believe that what he feels for you isn't love. No, what he feels for you is far too primal to be love. It's rough and all-consuming. It's nothing like the soothing feeling he had around his wife.

Love wraps around one's heart like a warm blanket. This wraps around his heart like a python.

But if it's not love, what is it?

Actually, scratch that. It doesn't matter.

Whatever it is, it's some form of desire. And if he desires something, then all he has to do is take it.

Yes, it's better to keep these kinds of things simple rather than getting tied up in technicalities.

There is a problem, however. He'd like nothing more than to just lock you up and keep you for himself, but with his somewhat unstable income and his habit of bouncing around from place to place, that isn't exactly feasible.

Ah, what to do...?

He could settle down or stop spending his money as soon as he earns it, but where's the fun in that?

No, rather than try to adapt to your lifestyle, he'd much rather force you to adapt to his. Still, he supposes some sacrifices will be necessary, as his lifestyle is currently only fit for one.

You'll have to quit your job since you'll be moving around from place to place alongside him, but he'll just take on some more jobs to cover the extra cost; it's no big deal.

He proposes the idea to you so matter-of-factly that it's almost as if he believes you to have already agreed to the plan beforehand. In reality, this is your first time hearing of such a thing, and you're so stunned that you momentarily lose your voice.

You've known this man for two, no, maybe three weeks, and yet he's asking you to drop everything and come overseas with him? You're not even friends! He's just a regular at the cafe you're employed with.

It dawns on you that he must be joking, so you chuckle awkwardly and avert your gaze. Perhaps you simply haven't known him long enough to gauge his sense of humour. You feel a little embarrassed for nearly having taken him so seriously.

Then, he shows you the plane tickets.

Bewildered, you end up being more blunt than you perhaps meant to: "I'm not going," you say, pushing his tickets back to him.

"Sweetheart," he says dryly. "I'm not asking." You shoot him a strained, confused smile, which quickly morphs into a more genuine one as the door chimes.

To think you'd ever be happy to serve a customer. It's a foreign sentiment, but if it means an end to this strange interaction, you'd happily serve a hundred---no, maybe even a thousand customers.

You take their order and get to making their drink, shooting quick glances at the man---Toji, you think---from behind the bar.

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

It's days like this that you wish the company wasn't so stingy about hiring more than one person for shifts. You're about to clock out, and if that man is going to stay until closing, you'd really like to have a coworker walk you back to your car.

It's twenty minutes until closing when Toji finally leaves. You let out an unconscious sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders relax. That was weird, but you shouldn't have to see him again, right? He's going overseas tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, you won't see him again. Thank goodness.

It's with that thought in mind that you flip the "We're open!" sign to its side and lock the doors. It's only 6 PM, but the fall season means it's already dark. You shiver from a cool breeze as you make your way towards your car at last.

Huh. Flat tire.

Ryomen Sukuna

Those who know of Sukuna will inevitably feel sorry for anyone who happens to catch his gaze. Sorcerer or not, none will ever possess even a fraction of the strength he carries, and for someone like Sukuna, that means you're no better than a bug to be trampled on.

What a poor, pitiful thing you are. You must be treated more like a pet than a person. A plaything for him to toy with, to discard once you've ceased to entertain.

However, this interpretation couldn't be more wrong.

What others fail to realise is that Sukuna would never waste his time on someone he doesn't consider his equal. Weak as you may be, there's something about you that seems different in his eyes.

Like a precious gem left unpolished, there's a certain allure to you that only a trained eye could see, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else stake a claim on you first.

No, he'll be the one to bring out your true potential.

Sukuna has never met someone worthy of being his companion. This has never bothered him, however. Loneliness was not something he was familiar with. There are those who have tried, of course, to prove their worth, to stand by his side, but none have ever moved him.

None until you, that is.

The funny thing is that you don't even try to win his attention. You never once asked for his gaze to land upon you. And yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Sukuna doesn't know what to do with you. You make him feel things he's never felt before.

Is this weakness? Is it love?

Is there a difference between the two at all?

Should he kill you? Should he keep you?

What can he do to make these feelings go away? What can he do to ensure they never go away?

In exchange for not pillaging your homeland, the townspeople offer you up as a sacrifice. It was Uraume's idea.

At midnight, you're dragged out of the comfort of your home and tied to a stake, where you stay for hours. By dawn, you've worn yourself out with struggle, dried blood sticking to your hands and the ropes around your wrists, when a white-haired stranger comes to collect you.

The stranger undoes your bindings, but only the ones keeping you bound to the pole. You're dragged along like a dog on a leash for countless hours until you eventually arrive at the largest estate you've ever seen in your life. It's midday when you're untied and allowed to bathe. The warm water releases all the tension from your aching muscles, and as you bathe, the white-haired fellow replaces the garments you arrived in with robes made of fine silk.

The stranger's name is Uraume, they tell you. They'll be taking care of you until their master is ready to meet with you.

"What happens after that?" you ask tentatively.

Uruame flashes you a smile that refuses to answer.

Before you know it, a full week has passed you by. You're still yet to see this so-called master, but Uraume tells you not to worry. After all, the master has already seen you lots of times, they say.

The thought of being watched in secret sends a shiver down your spine.

Though the prison is large, you're confined to only one wing of the estate, and after a week of having nothing to do but wander, you have the entire layout memorized. Bored and unattended, you decide to venture out into the unknown past the garden's gates. There, you come face-to-face with the largest man you've ever laid eyes upon.

A hulking figure with four arms and fiery pink hair turns to you, and in an instant, you fall to the ground, only vaguely aware of the blood pooling around you and the pain across your chest.

In truth, Sukuna had tried to kill you, but his technique missed your vitals. It takes him a moment of watching your blood ooze out of the open wound to realize he did it on purpose. Before he even realizes it, he's picked you up in his lower arms and applied reverse cursed technique to your injury. You've lost consciousness, and your pulse is weak, but you aren't dead. Relief floods through Sukuna's veins as he listens to your soft breathing.

From that day on, you're never to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. From that day on, Sukuna has someone worthy of standing by his side, not as a servant, nor a pet, but as a companion. From that day on, Sukuna has a lover.

Whether you like it or not.

Mahito

As a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel towards their own kind, Mahito relishes humanity's anguish and despair. He kills without a second thought, not caring who he hurts or who gets swept up into his path of mass destruction.

So why is it that this particular human sways him so? Why is it that he thinks your soul looks pretty, just the way it is? Why does he want to touch you but not to warp you beyond repair?

Why does he want you to look at him? Why does he want to scoop your eyes out of your sockets so that you can never look away?

To be a curse is to always follow your own desires, no matter how contradictory or inconsistent---that's the motto that Mahito lives by.

So, of course, this philosophy applies to you as well.

It doesn't make sense, and he doesn't understand it. But that doesn't matter to him. Why would it? He's a curse, and curses take what they want. What he wants is you, so, of course, he has to take you, too.

Mahito doesn't spend long watching you before he makes his move. First, he has to check if you can even see curses to begin with. If you can, that'll make things easier. But if you can't...well, that'll be fun too.

He bumps into you at the train station around 2 AM. It was a late night at work, and you're now dead on your feet. There's no one around, so it's the perfect time for him to test you. He taps your shoulder with a smile.

If you don't react, he starts feeling you up, talking aloud about how much he wants you as his hands roam your body.

"Mm, you're so weak," he says, palm on your stomach. "Look at you, all unguarded. If I wanted to, I could take your soul and just—" he squeezes the flesh on your abdomen. "—until you go splat! Hmm, but I don't really want to do that. I wonder why?" His hand trails down to your hips, brushing past—but not quite landing on—your private areas.

"It's weird, isn't it? You can't even see me. You don't even know I exist. But I know you exist." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. "Humans usually wear rings when they're married, right? I wonder why you don't have one? You're such a catch," he giggles. "Ah, well, I guess it's better for me. Less work, y'know?Though, I would have liked to see the look on your face, coming home to dear, sweet hubby, all mangled up in your living room. I wouldn't even bother transfiguring him. No, I'd want you to see his face clearly, all contorted in pain with his guts splayed out all over the floor."

He follows you home. You still can't see him, but you at least seem a little aware of his presence, with the way you keep glancing over your shoulder, randomly picking up the pace and taking more turns than necessary.

How fascinating! You can't see him, and yet you can sense him? He's swooning already.

"Don't worry, [First]," he says, arms around your shoulders as you fumble with your keys. "You'll be able to see me soon. And after that, you're never getting rid of me."

If you do react, however, he holds himself back, opting to strike up a lighthearted conversation with you instead.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" He asks. "Don't you know the subway is dangerous at night?" You visibly bristle, clearly on guard. He grins.

"Do you need something?" You ask, clutching your bag to your chest and stepping back. His grin widens, easily closing the distance you've just created.

"You're lonely, aren't you? All you do is work; you don't even have any friends! It's kind of pathetic, really. That's okay, though, I like you anyway. I might be the only one."

"What do you---"

"I could help you, you know. Ease your loneliness, maybe?" He's touching you now. Nothing outright inappropriate, but you could smell his intentions from a mile away.

"No thanks," you say. The train stops, and you hurry off the platform. Fortunately, the stranger doesn't get off with you. He waves at you as the doors close, and you run all the way home.

Finally feeling safe, you don't bother to do anything more than kick off your shoes before collapsing on your bed. It creaks under your weight, then creaks again. You freeze, your eyes shooting open.

"Heya," the stranger says. "Fancy seeing you again."

Choso Kamo

If you were to describe him in one word, 'inexperienced' may be your best bet.

Though it's true that he has 'lived' for over one hundred and fifty years, he spent most of that time as a cursed womb, unable to truly experience the outside world for himself. Even after being incarnated and absorbing the memories of his host, Choso finds himself unable to relate to any of his body's experiences. He knows what love is and what lovers do, but only from a technical standpoint. To actually experience it is something he's never even dreamed of doing.

So, of course, when he starts feeling these things for you, he's unable to properly put a label on them. At first, he thinks he's sick, which isn't unreasonable, considering his rather long list of symptoms (fever, shakes, sweats, heart palpitations, and clouded mind, he notes dutifully).

However, that idea is quickly shut down. Being a cursed womb death painting, it's highly unlikely that he even can get sick; plus, his symptoms only seem to surface when you're around (or when he's thinking of you, which, admittedly, is often).

Did you curse him? No, you don't have a technique like that.

Then, what...?

It takes him a somewhat embarrassingly long time for him to realise the truth behind his feelings. It isn't until after he catches himself staring at your lips and thinking about how soft they'd feel against his that he concludes he likes you.

So, he's figured it out. Now what...?

Choso searches through his host's memories in an attempt to figure out how to woo you. Unfortunately for him, his host was a frat boy with commitment issues who knew more about one-night stands than how to build the foundations for an actual relationship.

So, Choso consults Yuki Tsukimo, who he, with his very limited circle of friends, considers to be an expert.

As expected, Yuki is ecstatic at the news that Choso has found his type. Immediately, she's giving an impromptu lecture on the ways of the heart.

"First, you have to figure out their type," she says, wagging a finger. "If it's a match, you're all good. If not, you either need to give up or double down."

Through Yuki's mentoring, Choso learned the general rules for signalling romantic interest. Flowers, chocolates, walks in the park, walks on the beach—a lot of walking in general, actually—candlelit dinner, pick-up lines—he's got it all memorized.

The problem is that his throat gets dry, and his knees lock up when he so much as thinks about talking to you.

So he takes to following you with his eyes instead.

"It's just until I gather the courage to talk to them," he tells himself. "I'll stop once I figure out their type."

Right, if he can't ask you about your interests, he'll just have to observe them instead.

So, he watches you. All the time. Eventually, he all but forgets about his previous plan of it being a temporary habit.

It's just so...addicting. Watching you go about your day like normal. Completely unaware of his presence in the shadows. 

He learns about your hobbies, your interests, what kind of shows you like, your favourite foods, whether you still keep stuffed animals in your room, and more. He has a mental folder of all your likes and dislikes. And while there are some things he’s not able to learn, some places he’s not able to follow, it’s enough. Just knowing this much is perfect. 

He doesn't do anything. He doesn't plan to, either. He’s content with just watching. It's comfortable like this. He doesn't want anything to change. So, he forgets about stopping, and instead sinks even deeper into his newfound obsession.

If he had it his way, things would stay like this forever. Him, never confessing, and you, never knowing. But, unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind.

It was 10:15 AM, and you were at a local coffee shop by yourself when the barista handed you their number with your receipt. You shyly accepted, and just a day later, the two of you had plans for a date the next week.

Unfortunately, your 'date' canceled last minute and blocked you with no explanation.

It's a good thing, then, that your good friend Choso just so happened to bump into you, lending you his shoulder to cry on.

Well, there's no reason to waste a good dinner reservation, right?

You never do go back to that cafe, but if you did, you'd find the barista missing from the register.

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part III

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: It's your last day together with Marcus and you're going to make it count.

Chapter Warnings: language, SO much angst, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food consumption, time travel?

WC: 6.3K

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta'ing ❤️

Series Masterlist

Time stood still when you looked at your phone the following morning, you were certain of it.

The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

The words left a pit in your stomach, making you feel sick. How didn't you think this through? What happened between you was fast, sure, but not one time the night before did you pause to think how hurt you were going to be when Marcus left.

It wasn't like he was going to a different state or country. He would be gone for good. Never again would you know the feel of his lips or hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"Good morning," Marcus said from behind you, slipping his arms around your waist while you cooked eggs for breakfast. You flipped your phone over and turned around in his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips that lingered to the point where the eggs burned a little, but it was worth it.

You hadn't checked your phone until he went to the bathroom to wash up and you had breakfast underway, but you had already decided not to tell him. If you didn't speak it into existence, then maybe it wasn't real.

"Good morning," you said shyly, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before scooping eggs and sausage onto plates for you both.

"Was your superior quite angry with you?" he asked while he attempted to help you with the toast but ended up burning his fingertips.

You shook your head and picked up both plates to take to your small kitchen table.

"Nah, I never call in sick," you told him with a smile. "Besides the park, what did you want to see today?"

He settled next to you at the table, one hand dropping casually to rest on your leg while he picked up his fork with the other. "To me it does not matter, so long as it is with you."

You grinned and felt your cheeks warm. "You know, you said you didn't have much experience with romance in your life but you could have fooled me. Every word you say is romantic."

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his plate, feeling a bit shy. "Does simply wishing to spend time with a lover make one a romantic?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. At least, in my experience."

Marcus hummed and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "We must change that, my lady."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, turning to lock your lips with his. His grip on your thigh tightened when he heard the little noise escape from the back of your throat and you squirmed in your seat. "Well, you've changed a lot, already," you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He grinned and leaned forward to chase your lips, making you giggle and toss your arms around his neck.

Before you even had a chance to register the noise, the front door unlocked and swung open.

"Morning! Why are you still - oh, gross," Danny said when he turned from closing the door and saw the two of you intertwined.

Marcus withdrew his arms from around you and stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Daniel, I apologize," he said, his voice deep. "Courtesy demands I request permission from a lady's father, or in this case, closest living male relative, before pursuing her. I hope you can forgive me for my transgression." Marcus bowed his head and you quickly stood up, waving your hands in between them.

"No, no, no, you do not need my little brother's permission, Marcus," you told him. Danny folded his arms together and stifled a laugh.

"I don't know, Sis, I think he's onto something. Maybe if more guys went through me, you wouldn't be left on read so much."

"Shut up, Danny!" you seethed, fists clenched at your sides.

Marcus just looked back and forth between you, trying to keep up.

"I'm just kidding! Marcus, it's totally fine," Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping into the kitchen for your leftovers. "If you really want to spend your last day in the twentieth century with my sister, don't let me stop you. I mean, personally, I would have picked the girl who works at the Java Hut, or maybe the one at the comic book store..."

Both of you tuned him out when Marcus absorbed what he said.

"My... last day?" he questioned. You swallowed and nodded.

"He texted me last night but I didn't see it til you were in the shower," you said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh," he said softly, eyebrows pinching together in thought. And just like that, the fun, playful mood between the two of you vanished only to be replaced with despair.

"We can still do exactly what we said we would do," you assured him while Danny kept talking to himself in the kitchen, adding to the long list of people he would rather spend his last day with other than you.

"Of course," Marcus replied, but you could see the distant look in his eye. It was probably the same one you had when you first read Danny's text.

"Let's just... enjoy what time we have left."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, avoiding your eye while he processed everything he had just learned, both of you too nervous to say what you really wanted to say.

"Why aren't you working?" Danny asked, emerging from the kitchen with a piece of buttered toast.

"I called in sick."

He nodded, not even questioning it before heading to his room. "I'm gonna get some shut eye and head back over to Lizard's later. Gotta run a few diagnostic tests before we send you home, General."

His words were like taking a bullet. Appetite suddenly gone, you sunk down into your chair and tried not to let your emotions show but he must have sensed it because Marcus was sitting down next to you with one arm around your shoulders and the other on your thigh.

"We still have today, cor mea."

You sniffled and leaned into his shoulder, hiding your face against his neck. "You said that yesterday, too. What does it mean?"

You felt his lips on the top of your head before he answered.

"It means, my heart."

Tears stung your eyes so you quickly closed them, doing your very best to remember everything about that moment. The way he smelled, all fresh from his shower, the roughness of his hand against your skin, the sound of his heart beating soundly in his broad chest.

Don't go, you wanted to beg. Please stay with me. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was it ridiculous to want a man you just met to leave everything behind and stay with you? In a world he knew nothing about? Even if you did ask and by some miracle he agreed, would you be able to make him happy? Would this world make him happy?

No, you couldn't ask that of him. He had a whole life waiting for him in Ancient Rome.

You took a deep breath and reluctantly extracted yourself from his arms.

"Okay," you said, quickly swiping at your eye. "Let's go check out the park and once we're done, we'll see what else you want to do."

He nodded, helping you clean up from breakfast while pretending not to notice how red your eyes looked, but by the time you were both ready to leave your apartment, you had collected yourself. You refused to spend your last day together wallowing in misery.

You were going to make sure it was perfect.

"This place is magnificent," Marcus said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the rich greenery surrounding you while dodging tourists laughing and posing for pictures. Nearby, bicyclists and joggers zipped by and dogs barked, pulling at their leashes to get at one another while their owners struggled to rein them in but as far as the two of you were concerned, you were the only ones there.

"C'mon, this way," you said, looping your arm with his and leading him off a different path. The smile was permanently stretched across his face the entire time, especially when you had to come to an unexpected stop so a carriage led by a massive Clydesdale could pass by on the trail.

"That horse looks double the size of the horses back home," he remarked in awe when you resumed walking.

"There's all sorts of different breeds," you explained, "we'll probably see a few more before we leave."

You could hear water trickling and you grinned when you looked up at him. "Almost there."

When you finally emerged from your shaded trail to view the massive fountain, Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. He skid to a stop and just stared in wonder at the shallow water surrounded by people eating lunch, families taking pictures, couples sitting close together and children running and playing. Slowly, his gaze drifted around the wide open space, taking in every feature, every flower, every stunning piece of architecture until you finally tugged on his elbow.

"It's called the Bethesda Fountain," you said, pointing to the statue in the middle. "It's an angel, see?"

He nodded, eyes wide with wonder. "She is... beautiful," he whispered, looking like he was in complete awe of the stone statue of the angel draped in long robes with widespread wings behind her, looking over the entire park.

"I think she's holding her arm out as a symbol to bless the waters," you told him, pulling him closer so you could read some of the signage.

"This place is wonderful," he told you, twisting around so he didn't miss a thing. "I cannot believe a place like this exists in such a busy and thriving metropolis."

"Yeah, it is really amazing, isn't it?" you replied. You had lived in New York for so long that you realized you had grown numb to some of its wonder, but seeing it through Marcus's eyes felt like you were seeing it for the first time again.

"You are fortunate to live here," he said, finally looking down at you. "I have never seen a place so grand and spectacular in all my life."

You grinned and stretched up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Looks a lot better with you here," you said with a wink, and you swore you saw his face flush a bit.

The pair of you found an empty bench and sat down for a while. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he hooked an arm around you as you quietly watched the city pass you by.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he murmured as he nuzzled the top of your head. You titled your face up to give him a smile.

"I think this is the most fun I've ever had in this city."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his one cheek creating a dimple that you found too irresistible not to kiss, so you did.

"Would you like to just spend the day here or do you want to see something else?"

He looked around the park again with a deep sigh and you could feel his body relax against you. "I am content to do anything, so long as it is with you."

You thought about it for a moment before pulling out your phone and tapping away.

"There's a museum not too far from there that has an exhibition on Ancient Rome," you said. His interest was piqued and he squinted down at your phone. "Would you be interested in that? You could teach me something," you told him with a poke to his ribs. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I fear you are too brilliant for me to teach you anything, but I am intrigued."

You giggled and stood up, hauling him to his feet as you began to lead him back the way you came.

"We can grab something quick to eat along the way."

Marcus was very quiet the first ten minutes inside the museum. He silently read the informative plaques on the walls next to replicas of gladiator helmets and broken spears with his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He studied maps and watched a video of a historian talking about the rise of the Roman Empire playing on a loop, and all the while you followed him from room to room, reading what he read and trying to see things through his eyes.

He had a proud smile on his face when you came to a room about the technological advancements of the Roman Empire and how it impacted present day. He had just finished reading about the ways Rome impacted the design of modern day roads and bridges when he saw the next display and his smile faltered.

"What is it?" you asked him softly. His eyes flickered back and forth between a photograph of the Colosseum and an NFL stadium with a little blurb underneath comparing the two.

"You still have..." he drifted off and pointed to the stadium. "Your people still fight to the death?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, immediately picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Oh, no. No, Marcus. They don't fight, it's a sport. Nobody dies. The stadiums are just built to look like the Colosseum."

He nodded in understanding but you saw the look on his face. Something troubled him and it made your chest ache. You glanced around the room, noticing it was mostly empty, then stepped forward so you stood between him and the display. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, drawing his attention down to you and off the photos.

"What is it?"

He gave you a sad smile and his arms circled your waist.

"There is something I have not told you."

Once again, your eyes flickered around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear before looking back up at him expectantly.

"Daniel and Victor found me because I was fleeing Rome," he said solemnly, and already you could see the shame in his face.

"Why were you fleeing?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before sighing. "I displeased the emperor. I refused to carry out his orders. Orders that would kill thousands of young men simply to make a statement. I could not do it, my love." His hands grew tighter around your middle and you swore you saw tears begin to form but he blinked them away. "As punishment, I was sentenced to become a gladiator. To fight for my life and their entertainment in the arena. So... I fled. I was a coward and I fled."

"You weren't a coward," you whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. "You would have died, Marcus. That's not cowardly."

"It was cowardly to not die an honorable death," he argued, but you shook your head.

"It's barbaric and wasteful," you told him. You felt him lean into your touch for comfort. "I'm glad you ran away. If you didn't, I never would have met you."

He couldn't resist. Marcus leaned down and captured your mouth with his, committing the feel of your lips to memory before he had to return home and face his destiny.

"C'mon," you said, stepping away from him and taking his hand in yours with a little smile. "Let's keep looking around."

He didn't let go of your hand after that. You walked together through the rest of the room, reading to yourselves about the architecture of Ancient Rome and how the buildings influenced the White House and the Lincoln Memorial when he stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at the very last photo.

"Is this..." he trailed off, reading the caption before looking at you in shock. "The arena still stands? This image looks to be present day." He pointed to the people standing around the outside of the Colosseum, specifically their clothes and how they looked similar to yours, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it's still there," you told him, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he continued to stare at the picture. "I'm sure it looks different and some of it collapsed with time but it's been maintained and well cared for. It's one of the seven wonders of the world."

He looked at you curiously and you smiled. "It's kind of a big deal," you explained simply.

His fingertips dragged over the glass like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"May we see it before I leave?"

Your face fell and sadness swelled deep in your chest. "No, Marcus, I'm sorry. It's too far away."

He nodded, catching the regret in your eye before dropping the subject and moving on. He would see it soon enough, anyway.

It seemed both of you were determined to keep the rest of your museum visit as light as possible. When you reached the area about art, he told you a story of an artist who created a beautiful portrait of him and presented it to him after winning a huge battle for Rome. With a smile, he told you how pompous he felt when he had it hung in his living space at home but he felt bad not honoring the artist's hard work.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, you sat on a bench and did something you refrained from doing since the moment you met.

You Googled his name.

The cell service was spotty and it took an extra minute, but sure enough his name pulled up some results. You picked the first one, quickly scanning down his multiple military accomplishments until you reached the end. You held your breath as you read the small paragraph, fearful of what you would find out but it was a question that had been plaguing your mind for the past two days and you needed to know.

General Marcus Acacius presumably died in 215 A.D. It was believed he met his demise in battle, however his body was never recovered.

Glancing up to make sure Marcus was still in the bathroom, you shot off a quick text to Danny.

You: What year did you set that time machine when you picked up Marcus?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched your text slowly go from delivered to read, then three little dots appeared.

Danny: 215 A.D.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before tucking your phone into your pocket.

How could you go through with this now that you knew you were sending him back to certain death?

You did your damndest to not let it bother you, but it was hard. Every time you looked at him you wondered what fate had in store when he returned and the pit in your stomach just got heavier and heavier.

You arrived home to a note from Danny reminding you he had to run diagnostic tests on the machine and he wouldn't be home until late, so you both decided to stay in for dinner on your last night together. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill but you could make a decent pasta. Marcus lingered and tried to help but it was evident he was used to others cooking for him, and that was okay. You didn't mind.

When you each sat down to eat, his left hand falling easily to your leg again as he picked up his fork, you had to bite your tongue from screaming stay, please stay. By the way he was glancing in your direction throughout the meal, you had a feeling he wanted to say something, too, but either didn't know how or was too afraid to pop the bubble you had found yourselves in.

After you ate, Marcus made a move to wash the dishes but you quickly stopped him. The time you had left now was too precious to waste on things like that. You didn't say that, of course, but instead you wrapped his arm around you so you could burrow into his chest. Neither of you said a word. You didn't need to. You could both feel each minute ticking away, bringing you closer and closer to morning. You closed your watery eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, wishing you could somehow bottle it so you could listen to it when he was long gone and you were all alone.

You wished you knew what to say to make it easier, but you couldn't think of a single thing. You tried to put into words how he made you feel without sounding like a complete psychopath, but you came up empty. So you continued to stand quietly in your kitchen, holding one another close, breathing each other in and trying to savor every single second you had together.

He whispered your name so you forced your eyes open and looked up. His eyes were also shiny with unshed tears and that was all it took for your face to crumple and tears to flow freely down your cheeks. He quickly cupped the back of your head and feverishly pressed his lips against yours as his own tears began to fall. How would you be able to get up and make breakfast in that kitchen without thinking of him? How would you be able to ever wash your sheets for fear of losing his scent? Christ, how on earth would you be able to write that month's article without being institutionalized?

"Marcus," you sobbed before locking your lips together again. It was the desperation in your voice that made him bend his knees, grab the backs of your thighs and wrap your legs around his middle so he could walk you both to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

With all the care in the world, he delicately removed your clothes until your naked bodies were tangled together in bed, hands roaming over each other's skin as if you were trying to draw a map.

"Do not cry, my sweet girl," he whispered while hooking one of your legs over his forearm. He tipped his head down for just a moment so he could line himself up with your center before focusing back on you. His thumb wiped the tears from your cheek and he gave you a sad smile. "It would be a waste to spend what time we have left crying."

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss right as he sunk himself inside you. He groaned into your mouth and his grip around your leg tightened until his hips became flush with yours.

"Please, allow me to see you, cor mea," he murmured, and you hadn't even realized your eyes squeezed shut. You opened them and stared up at him looking at you like you were his only salvation. The words crawled up your throat and slid down to the tip of your tongue, begging to be said, but you swallowed them back down.

It was too fast. It was all too fast and you didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But what you did have was him, in that very moment, and you refused to waste it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, giving him the green light to move, so he did. He went slow. He took his time dragging the heavy length of him in and out while his mouth never left your skin. If he wasn't kissing your lips then he was kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - anywhere he could reach, he left his mark. It was the type of mark that burned your skin and settled deep below the surface, flowing through your veins and directly into your soul. The kind of mark that made you want to say something your brain thought was incredibly foolish but your heart was screaming otherwise.

To distract yourself from your thoughts, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and tilted to your side. He understood what you wanted and rolled the both of you over so you were on top, gasping for air. The new position had him reaching a spot that made you see stars and you needed to take a moment to collect yourself before you began to move.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, tilting your head back towards the ceiling and shifting your hips ever so slightly. Marcus grinned up at you, his big hands sliding up your thighs to settle on your hips.

"You are so beautiful like this," he told you softly. You dropped your chin back down to look at him, your entire being vibrating with adoration. "You fit around me so perfectly, my love. Do you feel that?" he asked when his cock pulsed inside of you. Your jaw dropped and you nodded. "That is what you do to me. You make me harder than I ever thought imaginable, yet your beautiful body takes me so well."

The praise made your chest warm. You began to roll your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him inside you with your hands braced on his broad shoulders for support when Marcus groaned and leaned forward to catch your breast in his mouth. The feel of his prickly beard against your skin combined with the way he flicked his tongue over your nipple made your back arch and your face pinch with pleasure.

Without warning, Marcus sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist while the other braced himself on the mattress so he could rock his hips in rhythm with yours. Your mouths hovered over each other as you began to move a little faster, your gasps and pants mingling together in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel the familiar crest building deep inside you and you tried to fight it. Marcus, ever attentive, quickly figured it out and frowned.

"Let go, my sweet," he ordered, but you shook your head.

"I don't want it to end," you whimpered, forehead falling to rest on his shoulder. His arm squeezed around you tighter and his jaw clenched, desperately trying to hold off until you found your release first.

"I plan on taking you as many times as you will allow tonight," he said, lips brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. "Please, let go," he urged, grinding his hips up against you. "My only wish is to take care of you."

Your heart rattled in its cage at his words, your body growing weak and melting into his hold, giving into his request far too easily. With a raspy moan that resembled his name, you reached your climax, body shuddering in his lap while he whispered words of encouragement in your ear.

When he felt you relax, he groaned and started to move faster, your slick coating his length more and more with each deep thrust. You tilted your face from your spot on his shoulder to find his lips, your tongue plunging languidly into his mouth while he continued to fuck up into you. You had never felt so at peace than in that moment with Marcus. His presence was everywhere; his arms were wrapped tightly around your middle, pressing your sweaty chests together so close, you could feel his heart beating in time with yours. His spend, thick and sticky, was leaking out of you and down his shaft after he came. He was so warm and strong and powerful that it had your head spinning and your heart aching for more. And that is exactly what he gave you.

Marcus spent the rest of the night worshipping you. He cleaned you in the shower only to make a mess of you half an hour later. He massaged your hips and legs when they grew too shaky and weak. He held you close, lovingly stroking your hair when you needed a break. And when you finally couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, he wrapped you up in his arms and let you fall asleep on his chest, perfectly calm and content for the last time.

But it wasn't enough.

"Are you alright?"

You kept your eyes squeezed shut and you shook your head. Marcus sighed from his place next to your bed and bent down to tilt your chin up, unearthing your face from your pillow.

"Please look at me," he pleaded. You couldn't deny him anything, but especially so given you only had a few hours left, so you opened your eyes and gazed at him mournfully. He gave you a small smile and lovingly stroked your cheek.

"I will never forget this for as long as I live. You have given me something I never felt worthy of," he said softly. Tears instantly stung your eyes and your lip began to quiver.

"Don't," you whispered thickly. His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and he eagerly leaned forward.

"What?" he whispered. "Do not what?"

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

You were going to say it. You were going to be selfish and beg him not to go, to stay with you because now that you've had him, you can't imagine a life without him. And you fucking swore by the way he was looking at you that he might actually stay.

With your heart pounding nervously in your chest, you reached out for his hand and opened your mouth just to be interrupted by a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

"You guys in there?" Danny called through the wood. "We're all ready to go here. Lizard's waiting in a tow away zone out front, we gotta jet."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to get up, not catching the disappointed look on Marcus's face. You probably looked like shit, your hair was a mess and you hardly got enough sleep, but you didn't care. You tugged on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over your head before taking Marcus's hand and opening the door. Danny was waiting, leaning against the wall looking at his phone, when you emerged.

"Fun night?" he asked with a wink. You shoved his shoulder and pulled Marcus down the hallway towards your front door, only pausing to grab his weapons and the clothes he arrived in.

"Did you call into work again?" Danny asked just to cut the unbearable silence that filled Lizard's fifteen year old shitty sedan. You nodded and continued to solemnly stare out the window. Marcus took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but you were finding it difficult to look at him because if you did, you were certain you would burst into tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeated to yourself when you pulled up to the familiar split level, faded green home Lizard grew up in. You took Marcus's hand as you walked behind Danny and Lizard, each heavy step bringing you closer and closer to heartbreak.

"We'll distract his mom, you sneak Marcus down to the basement," Danny told you. You nodded and stared down at the ground, your unusual silence giving your brother pause before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and turned back around.

"Hey, Mrs. Delio! We're back!" Danny called extra loudly into the house. You quietly snuck in after them while they hurried to the kitchen to stop her from stepping out and seeing you before you could sneak downstairs.

"Are we in a dungeon?" Marcus asked when you turned on the light and he saw the concrete walls and floors with only one small window in the corner of the room. You were about to explain it to him when you spotted the time machine in all it's glory, sitting proudly next to the washer and dryer, and you froze. Marcus felt you stiffen next to him and he turned around only to sadly drop his gaze when he noticed what caught your attention. He twisted your body towards him and took you by both shoulders before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eye.

"My love-" he began softly, but then Danny and Lizard came rushing down the stairs. You sniffled and looked away so they wouldn't see how emotional you were, but Marcus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to him.

"We're all set! She's heading out in a few to play bridge, she won't even notice we're gone til we're back," Lizard said as he began to power up the time machine, completely oblivious. You swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Marcus and heart thumping so fast that you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"You ready, big guy?" Lizard asked excitedly as he opened the door and peeked inside the tiny vessel. Danny cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Give 'em a minute," he said quietly, and for the first time all week you felt thankful for your little brother. Lizard turned around, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you two until it dawned on him. He nodded before taking a few steps away to pretend to look at something on his computer with Danny in order to give you a little privacy.

"My love," Marcus began again, holding both your hands tightly in his. "It is difficult to put into words how I feel," he said, taking in a shaky breath. "I wish I were able to show you, but I do not have any talents. If I were a poet, I would write sonnets of your eyes. If I were a musician, I would write ballads of your laughter. If I could create art, I would sculpt and paint for hours to capture the essence of your beauty. But I am just a man, and my foolish words will have to suffice."

Fat, hot tears began to unabashedly roll down your cheeks and your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to memorize every single second before it was gone.

One tear fell from the corner of his eye and he gave you a sad smile. "I have never felt like this before-" he said, but you stopped him, unable to hold back any longer.

"I love you," you sobbed, not even noticing the way Danny's head snapped to look at you in surprise. "I know it's fast and stupid but I love you and I'm sorry but I couldn't let you go without telling you."

Marcus grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. Both your lips were trembling and your tears were mixing together on your cheeks but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours before whispering, "And I love you, cor mea. You are my sanctuary. I wish to spend the rest of my days cherishing you and making you happy."

"Then stay," you begged, the words finally slipping past your lips with such earnest desperation, your voice cracked. "Please. Stay with me. Please-"

He pulled you in for another urgent kiss but this time, he wrapped both arms around you and pinned you tightly to his chest, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into it.

"Are- are you certain?" he stammered when he finally released your swollen lips. You gazed up at him with bleary eyes and nodded with a wide smile. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your hand, which was pressed firmly against his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.

"They couldn't have this conversation before I got a parking ticket this morning?" Lizard muttered to Danny under his breath, but Danny just elbowed him in the side, unable to look away from the two of you with a big smile of his own.

"I never thought I would feel happiness such as this," Marcus whispered in your ear, tears falling freely from both of you but for an entirely different reason now. You giggled into his neck, tugging him even closer, afraid to let him go even though he agreed to stay.

Danny clapped his hands, breaking the two of you up but Marcus still held you protectively against his side and you kept one arm wrapped around his waist when you turned to face your brother.

"So, no time travel today?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

"There is nothing left for me there," Marcus announced, the dread of being a disgraced man on the run or a gladiator becoming a distant memory. "Everything I ever wanted is right here. I apologize to you both for any additional work this has caused."

"No apology necessary," Danny said, squeezing Marcus on the shoulder good-naturedly. Lizard cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. You narrowed your eyes when you saw he was about to speak and quickly cut him off.

"I'll pay for the goddamn parking ticket, Lizard!"

He smiled at you sweetly, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. "So happy for you both, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up at Marcus.

"Do you want to go home?"

He smiled down at you warmly, his eyes dancing with adoration and happiness before bending forward to brush his lips tenderly over yours.

"Yes, my love. Let us go home."

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[puppykento]

nyxie poo.... can i request real dad toji please..... you write him so deliciously it makes my toes curl. i love you btw x

a/n: winky !! the loml being my first request omg. i love you more xxx. (i got a bit carried away this is like... a little long for a drabble. oops?)

cw: 18+ content, fem!reader, daddy-daugher incest, dub-con, cam girl reader, p in v, creampie, some slut shaming, spitting, squirting

Toji is no saint - but he's never pretended to be. He should never have been in your room in the first place, but you kept getting all of this money from god-knows-where, and he had a debt to pay. He had every intention to pay you back (eventually), but he just needed a little cash to tide him over until his next job.

The last thing he expected was to see the tab you left open on your computer. He'd only bumped the mouse trying to search through some of the shit on the top of your desk, only for a site that he was fairly familiar with to come up. That didn't mean he expected to see you on the screen, baring your pussy to the world. Your face wasn't in it, sure, but he hasn't reached that level of 'absent father' not the recognise the bedroom he's literally standing in, so... that was definitely his kid there.

That should have been the end of the whole situation. He should have hastily retreated out of your room while pretending he never saw anything. Should've and would've are two very different things, and before Toji can even register what he's doing, he's sat at your desk and pressing play.

He should feel guilty when he rubs himself raw watching his daughter play with her pretty pussy, but he can hardly feel bad when the sounds coming from your PC are so fucking hot. He stifles a groan as his cum shoots all over his shirt and hand, a frown coming to his face. Shit. He hadn't cum that quickly since he was a teenager.

He stands up quickly and clicks out of the page, making his way to the bathroom to clean up. Looks like he'd have to have a little chat with you later.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

"So, I was in your room earlier." He says as you return home, walking over to join you on the couch. No response. Fucking typical. "Hey, brat. I'm talkin' to you."

"Yeah, I heard. Just trying to figure out how you thought you had any business going into my room." You reply, your brows furrowing as you look at him.

"You always gotta be such a bitch? Shit. I'm tryna have a talk with ya. You're my kid." He bites out, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. You just glower at him, not bothering to reply once again. He lets out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Found your dirty tapes. Think daddy wouldn't start wondering where all your cash came from?"

That manages to get a reaction from you. You look cute like that - your eyes all wide as you gape at him. A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans forward, invading every inch of your personal space. "What? You didn't think your daddy'd find out, huh? Knew I raised a pretty girl, but I didn't think I'd raised such a slut."

"You had no right to-"

"Ah! That's where you're wrong, baby. See, you been hidin' all this money from daddy while he's been slavin' away to make sure you got a roof over your head. Been shovin' those cute little fingers in that cute cunt of yours when daddy coulda been doin' it for you this whole time and takin' a cut."

"Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?" You snap, heat building in your face as he lowers his head slightly, his gaze trailing along your body. He doesn't say anything in reply, instead choosing to grab a fistful of your hair to pull you into a searing kiss.

His lips are greedy and unrelenting, prying yours open enough to push his tongue into your mouth. Your brows furrow as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take control of the kiss as your body goes rigid. His hand slides lower until his thumb grazes against your clothed clit, instantly causing the tension to dissolve from your body. He chuckles as you moan into his mouth, rubbing circles with his thumb as he presses you back against the couch.

"Shit. I really did raise a fuckin' whore. Look at ya, spreading your legs for your own daddy after one kiss." He says as he pulls away from the kiss, a cocky smile spreading across his face. "Gonna fuck that slutty cunt, baby. First time's just gonna be for daddy's eyes, but I'll get ya creaming my cock on that camera soon enough."

His lips smash against yours once more, his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. He fumbles with your clothes, only pulling away from the kiss when necessary until he has you naked. He's not patient enough to undress himself, so he settles for just reaching into his trousers and pulling his cock out. It sits heavily on your thigh, twitching as he kisses his way down your neck.

"Bet you got an easy pussy." He growls, nipping at the skin of your throat. He forces two fingers past your entrace, making your breath hitch. "Wouldn't be surprised if I could slip right in without stretchin' her open."

"Daddy, m'not easy-" Toji curls his fingers just as you try to defend yourself, pressing them against that gummy spot that has you mewling for him and arching your back. He pulls his fingers out, his eyes lowering to watch the way that your hole clenches on air, desperately waiting for something to fill it up.

"Didn't fuckin' ask." He grunts, slapping his cock against your clit until he has you squirming and pleading for him to put it in. "You're just gonna shut up 'n take it."

He presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, gritting his teeth as it catches your entrance. With a deep groan, he presses forward, his thick girth slowly stretching you open. "Fuuuuck. Needy pussy suckin' me right in. Surprised she's so tight, baby. The shit you been recording, I thought you'd be loose."

Toji could barely breath with the way you clenched around him as he bottomed out, his hips flush with the back of your thighs. "Takin' me so fuckin' well, sweetheart. Shame that slutty pussy opened up for other guys, hmm? Daddy woulda loved to be the one to break 'er in."

After a few seconds of stillness to allow you to adjust, he's pulling back until his tip is just ghosting your entrance before he thrusts back in harshly, his cock bullying your cervix and forcing a choked out groan from you. He presses his forehead against yours in what is possibly the most tender gesture your dad's ever given you before he starts pounding you into the cushions of the sofa.

You look so pretty with your legs spread wide for him, the sweetest moans spilling past your lips with every moan. Toji fucked you like his life depended on it, rutting into your cunt desperately. Your lips part, and in a hazy moment where Toji can barely remember his own name, he can't help but lean down and spit directly into your mouth.

"Shit, that's... that's fuckin' hot, Christ." He forces out through gritted teeth as you swallow it on instinct, his thrusts almost violent, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room each time his hips smack against your thighs. "M'close, baby. Y'gotta cum for me, yeah?"

He spits again, this time directly onto your pussy, two fingers coming down to rub his saliva into your clit. Barely takes any time at all before you're arching off the couch, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tighten around his length, gushing all over him. His hips falter for a moment at just how much cum floods him - his hand and stomach getting coated in your release.

"Atta. Fucking. Girl." He grunts, punctuating each word with a particularly deep thrust, his eyes locked onto his shimmering cock as it disappears over and over again in your tight cunt. "Didn't see ya squirt like that in the video. Saved it just for daddy, hmm?"

His thrusts get more sloppy and desperate, his eyes squeezing shut as he lets out a loud groan, his hands moving to grip your hips tight enough they feel like they might bruise. He buries himself to the hilt, letting out a guttural moan as he spills deep inside of you, his cock kicking as he fills you up with rope after rope of cum.

He relishes in the way you whimper at the feeling, at how good you feel squeezing his dick so tight. His thighs tremble as he pulls out, flopping back onto the couch with a groan. He's never met a girl that had taken his breath away like that. Feels like your pussy was made just for him.

"Fuck, baby. No wonder you make bank on those videos." He says after a moment, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He shoots you a grin as he looks at you, his eyes shining with mischief. "You gonna let daddy star in the next one?"

[my-castles-crumbling]

Show Me

voice - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 825 - Explicit, Minors DNI, trans!Regulus

He'd always been quiet. Maybe it was his nature, maybe it was that past partners had made him feel...self-conscious. But Regulus had always been near-silent when with someone.

He hadn't thought a lot about it. it was a reflex, at this point, to bite down on his arm, or the sheets, or his own tongue, to keep himself quiet. Whenever he betrayed himself and let the smallest moan free, he felt embarassed, and worked even harder to get himself under control.

Until James Potter.

The first time he allowed James into his bed, it had been a very long time coming, after weeks of dancing around each other- flirting, touching, even snogging in bars.

So he was already a but of a wreck when James pushed him into the covers and kissed him roughly. It took everything in him to not groan when the other man ground their hips together, and he bit James's lip to stop himself from crying out when James's knee came to slowly push between his legs, jolts of pleasure shooting through Regulus like fireworks.

He physically bit at his arm, eyes wide, as James pulled off of him a bit and slowly pulled his pants down, long fingers circling around his thighs and tracing up, up, up until they reached his entrance, teasing at the wetness there.

But that was when James stopped, looking at him. "Am I hurting you, love?" he whispered breathlessly, looking confused. "Do you not want me to touch-?"

"No!" Regulus gasped, James stopping was the last thing he wanted. "I mean...no, it doesn't hurt," he murmured, looking into James's eyes. "Why? Have I done something wrong?"

"You..you just..." James tried to explain, gesturing to Regulus's arm, the way it was draped over his face. "You're trying to be quiet."

"I-yes," Regulus nodded, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't want to be too...too loud...too..."

"No, please do," James breathed, the excitement clear in his voice. "Please...I...I want to hear you."

Regulus squirmed a bit as James's confession moved straight down his body, the heat between his legs growing. "You do? You don't think it's embarrassing, or..?"

"No," James answered softly. "Please. Show me how good it feels, yeah?"

Regulus almost groaned just at the words, with the way he felt himself getting wetter just thinking about them. "A-alright," he nodded.

Lips moved against his clavicle and ghosted across his stomach as James's fingers again twitched over his folds, making him buck his hips just a little. He resisted the urge to again bring his arm to his mouth, to muffle the way his breathing started to increase. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"You're beautiful, Reg," James murmured against his tense stomach, his fingers beginning to tease at Regulus's cock, slowly moving over it, so gently that Regulus wanted to tell him to go fucking faster. "So perfect."

Regulus let out the smallest moan as James's fingers again flicked at him, and he felt himself turn pink.

"There you go, baby. So good for me. Show me how good it feels," James praised, biting at his shoulder and kissing at his neck.

He felt drunk with the praise, the pleasure building up inside him, and when James dipped a finger into him, he let out a loud moan without thinking, the noise piercing through the heady air.

"Yes, love. Louder." James muttered, adding a second finger inside him, curling his fingers upward and making Regulus curse and keen.

"J-James," he heard himself say, and he would've been horrified by his begging if James didn't whisper in his ear.

"Yes, angel. Beg for me."

He had never been so out of his head. He registered the noises he was making as James fucked his fingers into him, but he was so far gone that he didn't even care. The combination of James's kisses on his neck, his fingers pushing deep inside and curling, dragging against spots inside him he didn't know existed, his voice at his ear saying absolutely sinful things- it was otherworldly.

"Jamie," he gasped after a few minutes of torture, of making noises he normally would have turned red to hear let alone make, his fingers gripping into James's hair. "Fuck. Please-I-"

"Scream for me, baby. Then you can come," James murmured, making Regulus turn bright red before sliding smoothly down Regulus's body and using his tongue to tease Regulus's swollen cock.

He wasn't sure how anyone could have not screamed.

I was immediate, the heat and wetness of James's mouth coaxing him over the edge so suddenly that he did scream with it, canting his hips into the other man's eager tongue as he continued to tease and suck Regulus through the best orgasm of his life.

His vision had whited out and he wasn't completely sure where he was for a moment, the floating feeling of pleasure surrounding him as fingers and tongue still moved slowly, bringing him down from the high.

And then James was there next to him, kissing at his shoulders and chest, murmuring to him, "You're perfect, darling."

And he just let himself float for a moment, enjoying the safety and sunshine that was James Potter.

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The Second Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year Two

Bradley dropped down on his bed and started to untie his boots while Nat looked around at everything on his desk. They were both about to start flying solo now, and it was such a relief that she was advancing in the program with him. It brought him a little bit of joy every time they left the others in the dust.

"I always liked this thing," she remarked, poking his Navy desk lamp as he set his boots under his bed. "You said it was your dad's, right?"

"Yeah. Makes it vintage," he replied with a grin as he lounged back on his pillows, already thinking about dinner in the mess hall. It was hot as hell outside, especially by Rhode Island standards, and it made him miss Virginia a little bit. "Are you ready for dinner?"

She groaned. "It's too hot to go outside and walk all the way to get food. Your air conditioner works better than mine, too. Can't we just stay in here?"

His stomach growled as he said, "All I got is some protein bars and instant mac and cheese. And I'm starving."

Nat started to poke at the book he was currently reading as she said, "I'll order us a pizza."

This was something he'd never get used to, even though he considered her his best friend. She always seemed to have money from her parents, and he had basically nothing. But she continually offered to share her food with him. Bradley wasn't exactly sure what he brought to this friendship, but she seemed to enjoy having him around, so he didn't bring it up.

"Fine," he agreed.

This seemed to make her happy as she fished her phone out of her pocket. "You want your usual topping choice?"

Bradley froze with his fingers pushed back in his messy hair. At first, he always ordered his pizza that way, because that's how you liked it. Now Nat thought it was his preference. But maybe it actually was?

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Please." 

Then he listened to her call it in while his thoughts drifted back to Virginia. He hadn't seen or heard from you in fourteen months, but he'd thought about you every single day. It hurt a little less now, but all the feelings were still there. He still looked at all the pictures he had saved on his phone. He thought about you when he touched himself. He still hadn't slept with anyone else since you.

"Why would you keep a differential equations notebook from UVA?" Nat mused, but he was barely listening to her as he thought about your body curled up against his while you wore his Grateful Dead shirt. "Did you even take advanced math?" 

When he finally registered what she said, he sat up in his bed and saw her holding your purple notebook. The one with all the doodles and love notes in the margins, and he felt like he was back in the study room with you on his lap. The breath was knocked from his lugs as a sheet of loose, folded paper fell onto her lap, and she picked it up and started to read it out loud.

"Dear Beer Boy, 

I'm bored in my calculus lecture, and I just started thinking about your bedroom door. It's still the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Maybe you and I could wait until the middle of the night when all of your fraternity brothers are asleep and sneak out into the hallway and-"

Bradley lunged out of bed and grabbed the note from her hand before she could see the rest. "What the fuck, Nat? That's personal!"

Her dark brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she said, "That was from her."

He knew she was kind of mystified by you, given that he only shared details of the happiest months of his adult life sparingly. She always asked for more information when he mentioned you, always wanted to know more. But Bradley felt like the magic would wear off the more he talked about you, so he always kept it brief. He also knew he wasn't going to get away with saying nothing right now.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking the purple notebook from her hands and returning the folded note to the back pages. The sight of your handwriting filled him with a deep need for you. "And this was her notebook."

Nat's voice was gentle, as if she was trying not to spook him when she asked, "Why did she like your door so much?"

Bradley closed his eyes and laughed quietly. "I painted over all the other girls' names and phone numbers. For her. Or for myself. I don't really know anymore."

Now her eyes were narrowed when he looked at her again. "'All the other girls'. Holy shit, Bradshaw. Were you some sort of fuckboy in college?"

He leaned back against his pillows again as he groaned, "Basically." He didn't really like thinking about it, because that hadn't been him for a long time now. "Before Sugar."

She took her phone out again, and Bradley desperately wished the pizza would arrive so this conversation could end. But Nat asked, "What was her last name again? I want to know exactly what she looks like."

He whispered the word, loving the feel of it on his tongue as he took his own phone out. He located the picture of him with his arm around your shoulders that Dev took the week before graduation. Your smile was too pretty, and your face was too perfect. There was a reason he had to limit himself, and the onslaught of feelings was proof of why: He wasn't over you yet.

"Here," he muttered, stretching his arm out to hand his phone to Nat, but she gasped as she looked at her own phone.

"She's gorgeous. I found her Instagram account."

"You did?" he asked, launching himself off of the bed and forcefully switching phones with her. She gasped again as she looked at the photo on his phone, but Bradley was too busy staring at the tiny thumbnail of your smiling face. Your account was set to private, but this photo must have been more recent. Your hair was styled differently, and the only thing he could process was that he felt relieved you were posing alone instead of with some other guy. He didn't want to have to put a face to that.

He thought about taking a screenshot and texting it to himself, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. And when Nat asked if he wanted her to send you a friend request, he said absolutely not. "You think I want her to know I still think about her every day? No."

Then she said, "But maybe she still thinks about you." 

Bradley didn't see how that was a possibility.

The pizza finally arrived just then, and Nat stood to go get it. She gave him a cautious hug and said, "I think she would be proud of you." She left him alone with both phones in his hands, and somehow he knew it would be easier to talk about you now if he wanted to.

------------------------

It was mind blowing. Three months ago, Chicago was freezing cold and practically encased in ice. Now it was blazing hot to the point that you couldn't get any relief unless you were inside your dorm room. It was Friday, thank goodness. Everyone in your graduate studies group wanted to go out for deep dish pizza tonight, and you had to figure out a way to stop sweating long enough to actually get dressed in something other than the shorts and tank you were wearing now.

You groaned as you carried your computer and textbooks across campus in your backpack. You had the highest grades out of all of the math graduate students, but you still took everything with you everywhere in case you had some extra time to study. But you should have left everything in your room instead on this sweltering day.

The quad was packed with tables and students participating in a career fair, but for some reason, this was where Jared asked you to meet up. Four dates with him, and you still weren't convinced it was a good idea to take things out of the friend zone. Four dates, and you still didn't really want to do anything besides kiss him. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him, he just wasn't exactly right.

"Hey!" 

As soon as you heard Jared calling out for you, your initial reaction was to hide. You were absolutely going to have to tell him you didn't want to see him anymore, and it mostly made you mad that it would probably disrupt your friend group. 

"Hi," you replied as he squeezed through the crowd to get to you. And then he slipped his sweaty hand in yours, and you actually cringed. Why wasn't this what you wanted? After nearly a year, he wore you down enough that you gave it a try, but this was decidedly bad. Especially since you could picture exactly what you did want.

When you looked up at Jared's face, your gaze drifted to your left. You gasped and dropped his hand immediately. There were recruiters from the Navy. They were wearing flight suits. You caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair and a flash of dark eyes, and you were off.

Jared was calling after you as you fought through the crowd, catching glimpses here and there of broad shoulders and a handsome smile. Oh my god, he was here. Somehow, he was here. Like he'd just climbed out of your dreams and into the University of Chicago campus. 

"Bradley!"

Your voice rang out, but he didn't fully turn your way. You rushed a little faster, no longer caring if you knocked someone into one of the tables. 

"Bradley!"

But you stumbled as you reached the recruiters, and your smile evaporated from your lips. Tears stung at your eyes as he turned to face you, leaving your heart filled with disappointment. 

"Hey, there. I'm Lieutenant Chapman," he said with a grin, and you honestly didn't know how you could have been mistaken. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was too curly, and now you were standing there feeling like you'd just broken your own heart all over again. The disappointment could smother you if you let it.

You nodded and turned away as sweat dripped down your chest and an awful feeling settled into your stomach. You made your way back through the crowd at a much slower pace with no real desire to talk to Jared, but you reached him all too soon.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing your hand again.

You looked at the ground and tried to hide your tears as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Sorry. I thought I saw an old friend."

He just made an impatient noise and asked, "You ready to go get changed and grab some pizza with everyone else? I thought we could ditch them early and maybe go back to my room and watch a movie? And like hang out... on my bed?"

His voice was distressingly hopeful. You wanted to say no. You knew you should. But you kept your eyes fixed on the ground as you said, "Sounds good," with almost no conviction. You wanted to get past this, so you needed to actually start trying.

-----------------------

Make it stop hurting. Or don't. I don't know. They must both already know they belong together. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this series!

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascals @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @averyhotchner @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @callsigns-haze

[grandlinedreams]

Ok but reguarding Law’s MIA s/o: What if Luffy and the Strawhats found them and calls Law on the den den mushi and is just like, “Oi, Torao! I found (nickname)!” Just both Law and s/o reconnecting over the snail trying not to burst into tears.

Oh YES we love soft closure that's good and gentle 😌 thus, this will be the sequel to [this]

[Heads up!: mention of injuries, hurt/comfort]

Some divine being must have your back. That's the only reason you can think of as to how you aren't dead ㅡ and how you've landed in the care of an ally, no less.

"We may not be an alliance anymore, but that doesn't mean we're not friends, right?" Luffy's grin is bright and wide, patting you on the shoulder and laughing sheepishly when Chopper snaps a warning about jostling you too much.

"They almost died, Luffy! You need to be gentle!" Chopper fusses with the thick band of cloth around your upper arm, and you glance at Luffy.

"You have a transponder snail, right?" He blinks and then nods, and you swallow. "Can I borrow it? I need ㅡ I need to call Law."

He probably thinks you're dead, or that you've been captured. It's Nami who approaches with the transponder snail, and your heart hammers as it begins the familiar 'purururu'.

Law answers after a minute. "What do you want, Strawhat?"

Your lips part, but there's a lump in your throat now, the rise of tears in your eyes at hearing his voice.

"Hey Traffy, you'll never guess who we found! We found [nickname]!" Luffy speaks for you, and you stare at your hands as Law processes Luffy's words.

"[Name]...?" Law's voice is soft, softer than you've ever heard it ㅡ as if he's afraid to believe Luffy, that the other captain is feeding him false hope.

"Law," you croak, voice thick with tears. "I'm ㅡ yeah, I'm here."

"Are you okay?" Law can hear the pounding of his own heart, the rise of emotion at hearing your voice but being unable to see you ㅡ and his chest aches when he hears a tiny hiccuped breath from you.

"I'm okay," you say, "I'm so sorry, Iㅡ"

"Don't apologize." Law doesn't care that his crewmates are watching him at the moment, relief at knowing you're okay, you're alive trumping everything else. "Strawhat. We need to arrange a rendezvous so I can take [Name] back."

You scrub at your eyes as you listen to Law and Luffy discuss where to meet up, vaguely aware of Robin's hand on your back, trying to soothe you.

"Are you okay?" Nami's voice is gentle once you've calmed down and you register that the transponder snail is quiet. It hurts that you hadn't gotten to say more to him, gotten to say goodbye ㅡ but your heart hammers at the prospect of seeing him again, and you've had enough of goodbyes for a while.

"Yeah," you answer at last, "I'm just ready to go home."

ㅡ

The rendezvous point doesn't take long to reach, the Polar Tang having coincidentally been in the area, searching for marine presence and any scrap of you they might happen upon ㅡ and you watch as the familiar yellow metal breaches the surface.

Anxiously, you scan the small deck, waiting ㅡ and then the door opens, and your heart stops. Law.

You're tempted to vault over the railing of the Sunny, take your chances with the waves just to get to him faster, but Law seems to have the same idea as a blue aura encapsulates the space between both ships ㅡ and then he's in front of you.

Given how private he is, you expect Law to wait until the two of you are alone to express raw emotion, untempered by social expectations ㅡ but his arms are around you, squeezing you tightly, and you get the feeling he was a lot more than just worried about you.

Now that Law has you back, a little worse for wear but ultimately alive, he can admit that he was terrified. That he'd lost someone again, upheld his personal belief that all he knows how to do is lose the ones closest to him ㅡ but you're alive.

You're here, in his arms, safe ㅡ he presses his face against your head, closing his eyes as he uses you to anchor himself, tethering away from 'what ifs' and all the worst case scenarios he's entertained over the last few days.

"Missed you," you mumble, and his grip tightens.

"I missed you too."

[ssaluv-a-lot]

Nasty Ol' Mind

Fandom: They Cloned Tyrone

Pairing: Fontaine x blackfem!reader

Rating: 18+, Oral (fem receiving)

Twice. He'd only laid eyes on your fine ass twice. Fuck was he doing thinking about you when you barely spared him a glance. You knew who he was. You knew what he did and you wanted no parts.

But he couldn't stand it. He needed to see you, to know you.

So what if he lingered in the liquor store aisles a little longer than usual even though he knew he got the same shit every time. And if he looked at you on the other side of said aisle more than he did the snacks in front of him, who was gonna say shit?

He got so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed you moved closer to his side of the aisle until the sweet scent of vanilla flooded his nose.

" 'xcuse me." You mumbled timidly as his frame took up most of what space the aisle had. His gaze lingered on you a little bit longer than what was considered appropriate.

God, he was so fine. Your thoughts betrayed your need to get the fuck out of here the moment he stepped in the store. You just wanted a peek that's all. You didn't expect to want to be near him so damn much.

"Shit, my bad, baby." Fontaine took a step back, as you squeezed between him and the bags of chips, your ass brushing the front of his sweatpants. Your scent lingered and it took everything in him not to sniff it all up like a weirdo.

His low tone sent a shiver down your spine and you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as you approached the register and set your things on the counter.

"That it for you?" The cashier asked. You began to nod until you felt him behind you. He tossed up a pack of gum and a bottle of liquor.

Your head whipped around in confusion as Fontaine was already counting the cash. "Whatchu doin'?"

"Don't worry bout it." He tried and failed to fight the smirk tugging on his lips as he handed the cashier enough cash to cover you and his stuff. "Just stick around f'me. Wanna talk to you."

And if you followed him outside and into his Pontiac, it was nobody's business.

His car rumbled to a stop in a scarce parking lot and after rolling a blunt and lighting it up, he spoke up. "You know me?"

"Yeah." You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched him take a drag from the blunt and blow the smoke out the car window. "What did I do?"

"Nothin'." He chuckled, his grills gleaming with his smile. A moan so quiet he barely heard it, slipped from your lips as you slumped in your seat.

Another beat of silence as the smell of weed flooded your senses. "What you got me all the way out here for?"

"Wanted to see you...up close." His eyes rack over your body, making you squirm. You were wet for sure. Shit, who wouldn't be. "Got somethin' on ya mind?"

Just a shake of your head in response. "You?"

"You don't wanna know.."

"Try me."

So what if you ended up sprawled out in the back of his car, listening to your ankles as his head sank between the folds of your sopping pussy. Bass boosted R&B flooding the speakers and vibrating the seat as his thumb rubbed tight circles of your clit.

His beard was nice and wet with your two orgasms as he worked you towards a third.

"Fuuuuck, Fontaine!" Your head dropped against leather seats as he hummed against your cunt.

"Go on, say that shit.." His lips wrapped around your clit as his fingers fucked you into oblivion.

"'m gonna cum daddy! Fuck!" Your legs slipped from the shaky grip of your hands and landed on his shoulders where he kneaded the soft flesh in his free hand.

"Mmmhmm." All control left your body as your orgasm crashed into you and gushed across his face.

His mouth never left you as your whines died on your tongue and you returned to Earth as intended. When he did emerge from your thighs, you couldn't help but giggle at the mess you made on his features.

[ikeuverse]

ICED CARAMEL — p.jongseong

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, slight angst  WC: 3.7k+

WARNINGS: light swearing, a bit of a stalker and inconvenient guy with jay (y/n put that guy in his place). and that's it, let me know if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: it wasn't a problem for jay to memorize your order and the days of the week you drank each thing in the café he managed. the problem was creating feelings for a customer he didn't even know if she felt the same way.

NOTES: i've had this plot in mind for a while, but i didn't know which member of enhypen it could fit in with. thinking that it's been a while since i last wrote for jay, i decided to do this story, his. so enjoy, i hope you like it!

masterlist

An iced caramel almost every day of the week, except Friday, when it was an iced vanilla latte accompanied by a slice of cranberry cake.

Jay didn't know why he had decorated your order so meticulously. Maybe he knew, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. Even more so when his cousin – and also a cafeteria employee – was a pain in the ass every time you came in to spend the afternoon working.

"Your girlfriend's here" Sunghoon whispered as he closed the cash register, turning his body towards Jay and smiling broadly when he noticed his cousin's cheeks starting to take on a reddish tinge.

"She's not my girlfriend, asshole" Jay growled lowly and almost picked up the dishcloth to hit Sunghoon if it hadn't been for your presence near the counter.

"Hi."

Jay froze for a few seconds. The angelic voice and contagious smile you gave every afternoon you came in made the boy sigh just by existing in front of him.

"Hi, y/n" Sunghoon greeted you first, while the other still stared at you without saying anything "Same as always?"

"Yes, please" you said.

"Jay will take you to your desk in a moment" Sunghoon smiled back and let you walk away to your usual desk to sit down, picking up your work materials and focusing on your notebook.

Those few minutes of interaction felt like hours, because Jay only realized it when he felt Sunghoon's push against his body, bringing him out of the little trance he had entered without even realizing it.

"Stop acting like an idiot or she'll notice" he whispered.

"Realize what?" Jay whispered back.

It was then that Sunghoon let out a soft sigh, not wanting to attract the attention of the few customers in the café.

"That you're into her, Jongseong" he then rolled his eyes, preparing the iced caramel you always ordered since it was Wednesday.

You're into her. Sunghoon's words have echoed fervently in Jay's head countless times since he caught himself thinking about you.

It's not like it was your fault or his fault in the first place. Ever since Jay and Sunghoon decided to take over their grandfather's coffee shop, they've gotten to know the place's loyal customers. You arrived a few months after they took over, asking for Mr. Park, the nice little man who always served you the best-iced caramel in the area.

You had also recently moved into the building at the end of the street. The huge commercial building that Jay had seen you enter a few times after you left the coffee shop. You also chatted with him a lot of the time, since Sunghoon took care of the cashier and often cleaned up his cousin's mess in the kitchen. This gave Jay time to check out the customers – there were rarely more than three people there at the end of the day – so it was just you and one other woman there until closing time.

It was a rather pleasant routine, and it made Jay start fantasizing about your beauty and how your friendliness made him feel. Even Sunghoon wanted to admit that one day he heard his cousin whining because you'd gone to get coffee and hadn't stayed to talk.

"Maybe she's busy with work" Sunghoon tried to calm him down since he'd gotten the amount of sugar in the brownie wrong for the third time. Jay didn't want to lose another pastry because of a silly distraction.

Or not so silly when he started to notice how the conversations were getting longer. Sometimes both he and you forgot that you were working. You wouldn't respond properly to emails, while Jay would let Sunghoon take over the running of the establishment just to sit in front of you and talk for a long time.

You shouldn't treat a customer so intimately, Jongseong. He could hear his grandfather's voice very well if you were there. Surely Grandpa Park would take him out of the coffee shop and leave only Sunghoon there, as a form of punishment for making his cousin deal with everything while he sighed unconsciously at the figure of the wonderful woman in front of him.

"Take it to her and, please, act naturally" Sunghoon finished his coffee and closed the cup, handing it to Jay "Unless you're brave enough to propose…"

"That's not going to happen" Jay was quick to say.

"Then watch the coffee, or I'll take it out of your paycheck."

He wanted so badly to curse his cousin right then but settled for a small grimace as he watched Sunghoon serve two other customers.

Jay slowly walked up to the second floor of the café. It was more secluded and quieter than the entrance hall, which many people liked because of the view. You, in particular, preferred to stay in the corner of the small months of that place because it was more private and quiet. That way your work could be completed and, as a bonus, you'd get to spend a few minutes chatting with Jay.

That wasn't in your plans. Smiling like an idiot at one of the owners of the coffee shop you went to every day. It was unethical with his work and, above all, you could have been taking advantage of him as a customer since Jay was only being nice to you.

He could be like that with all his clients, you thought. You really wanted to sabotage yourself so you tried not to think about the guy so much. Big mistake. Because every time he came to deliver your coffee, staying for a chat, you found yourself deeper and deeper in the pit of desire. The wish that you could ask him out or simply tell him how beautiful he was.

Would that be so bad?

"Your iced caramel right here" Jay's voice made your thoughts fly away. A quick smile adorned his lips as he approached and, as soon as he placed the glass on the table, he pulled out a chair in front of you to sit down.

You took the drink quickly to feel the cold, caramelized taste go down your throat. It was as addictive as looking at Jay and that smile he was wearing.

"Busy day?" the boy asked after a few seconds in silence, just watching you sip your drink.

"And tiring" you put the glass down again "Not to mention it's stressing me out a bit."

"Do you want to share?"

You wanted so much to tell Jay what was bothering you. To tell him how you felt and why you were so stressed about everything that was happening, but fate had something else in store for you.

"Y/n" that voice gave you the creeps, that's for sure. You closed your eyes for a few seconds as you heard footsteps approaching.

"Terry" you tried to smile at the man as soon as you opened your eyes and saw his figure standing right behind Jay.

Terry looked at the boy sitting in front of him with apparent disgust as he looked back at you.

"Am I in the way of something?" Terry asked.

"Yes" you whispered.

"No" Jay said loudly, getting up from his chair and straightening his cafeteria apron "I was already leaving anyway."

"No, Jay…" your weak voice didn't give him a chance to hear you as you packed up your chair to leave.

"Bye y/n, enjoy your coffee."

He left so quickly that you didn't even manage to call him by his surname, let alone shout any syllables to make him understand that he could stay. So, now looking at Terry right in front of you, the man had a serious countenance that made you nauseous.

"Are you seeing that barista?" he sounded disgusted as he spoke.

"What if I am?" you retorted.

"Then it would be very decadent of you to deny me dinner, instead of agreeing to go out with this…"

"Look, Terry" you cut him off gently, even though he didn't deserve anything coming from you "If you've come here to say something about it, please, it's the place I like to work. I don't like being interrupted."

The man just nodded in agreement, waving a briefcase in his hands that you hadn't realized he was carrying until just then.

"I've come to give you this, the boss asked for it" Terry left it on the table where you were sitting "And maybe you and I…"

"Terry, please" you sighed loudly this time "No."

He shook his head once more, turning his lips into a thin line as he took a few steps back. Slowly walking away before saying goodbye to you and walking down the stairs of the café.

Terry stared angrily across the room at Jay as if he had done the most horrible thing in the world, before opening the door and leaving almost immediately.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, realized this and looked at his cousin, who had a serious look on his face. His eyebrows were knitted together in a scowl that he had seen only a few times on Jay.

"May I ask what happened upstairs?" he asked.

Jay just sighed, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was still racing and he had no idea what had happened upstairs since he had left. But something inside him was bothering him, Jay wanted not to feel that kind of thing.

"Just… Please…" he finished arranging the sweets in the display case, closing the glass and raising his body after he'd finished his work "From today onwards, it's up to you to bring the coffee to y/n's table, okay?"

Torturous weeks in which Jay didn't show up to deliver your coffee in person. You knew very well that it was because of Terry's appearance that day and how extremely unnecessary he was with Jay.

You wanted to ask if the man had said anything after he left, but he never even came to your table. Always ordered Sunghoon to hand over his things with the excuse that the movement was driving him crazy. Or that there were some sweets left to prepare, so he couldn't leave at the moment. Your mind was screaming at you to ask what was going on or if it was all in your head because it was affecting you much more than you wanted it to.

Friday, the day you ordered a slice of cranberry cake and Jay always made a joke that it was the cake that came out the least. That he, in particular, had never eaten a necessary and worthy piece except for tastings when he made the pastry. With Sunghoon's help, because he did like it, Jay wasn't a big fan of that cake.

And you were beginning not to want to ask if the result was that he didn't bring it. Not that you hated Sunghoon… Not at all! He was nice, and funny. It ran in the family, that's for sure. But there was something about Jay that you couldn't explain. Something that had ripped every fiber out of your body simply because you couldn't stop thinking about him, and that was only making it harder as he became more and more distant.

"I'll kill you, Terry" you said to yourself when, once again, you saw Sunghoon approaching with your request.

He seemed to guess that some question was meant for him, so the boy always answered something different than the last time. It was as if Sunghoon wrote down every answer he gave you so as not to repeat any and try to convince you that Jay was too busy.

"The macarons are a lot of work today" he smiled, taking the plate of cake from the tray along with his iced coffee of the day "Jay is very busy and…"

"Sunghoon, can I ask you something?" if it wasn't now, it wouldn't be ever again. You had to have the courage to ask, after all, what harm would it do? He could run away from your question or simply lie and walk away as if nothing had happened.

"Of course" he continued, smiling at you after your order had been placed on the table.

"Is Jay avoiding me because that man was here the other day?"

Yes.

"Not that I know of" Sunghoon wanted to abandon the intrusive voice in his mind to answer the obvious, but decided to stick to what he had promised his cousin "He's not avoiding you, it's just that—"

"Terry is absolutely nothing to me, Sunghoon" maybe they both thought that idiot was his boyfriend because he thought he could be something other than a work colleague. And an idiot who didn't know how to take an attack.

"No?" Sunghoon seemed surprised by that confession, making you laugh.

"He's just a jerk who thinks he's something to me" you took a piece of your pie to eat "Terry asked me out a few times, but I politely declined. Now he won't stop bothering me."

"He's an idiot" Sunghoon shrugged, making you laugh again.

So things were falling into place now and he could understand why the man had left with a frown the day he entered the coffee shop. Maybe he'd met Jay upstairs, thought of something and you'd blown him off after Jay came down.

"You know what, y/n?" Sunghoon pulled out the chair in front of you, sitting down just as Jay used to do when he took your order to the table. You paid close attention to everything the boy in front of you said, afraid of missing some important part of what he had to say "Both you and Jay are wasting your time."

"Hello? What… What do you mean?" luckily you took your time drinking your iced coffee, otherwise, you would have choked on Sunghoon's sincerity.

It was the boy's turn to laugh and relax as he leaned back in his chair.

"You know very well what I'm talking about" he tried to suppress a smile as he stared at his slice of porpoise being cut by the fork and you playing with the topping "That was a misunderstanding on account of that idiot… What's his name again?"

"Terry" you said.

"Yes, Terry" Sunghoon continued "And I think both you and Jay need to talk about this."

"And how am I supposed to do that if he's avoiding me?" you sighed, eating the cake you loved so much while looking at the other Park in front of you.

"Well, I can fix that next week" Sunghoon smiled, making you smile too as you finished chewing your cake to answer him.

"How will you do that?"

"I need to think about it because Jay is very difficult when he wants to be" he prepared to get up, greeting you before leaving "But I promise to help you both. I can't stand seeing my cousin and that scowl all day."

Waving to you, Sunghoon left to continue serving the other customers. Leaving you pensive and, strangely, looking forward to next week.

Jay felt like an idiot for having that kind of resentment towards you. He hardly knew what had happened, in fact, but seeing you walk into the cafeteria only made his chest tighten.

Why feel that way about someone he barely knew? Come on, Jongseong. You were just talking! He wanted to faithfully believe that it was just that, that he couldn't be fooled by someone who was a loyal – and incredibly beautiful – customer of his workplace.

It didn't help when Sunghoon made a point of calling you to the counter, taking longer than usual to take the weekly order that everyone already knew by heart. This could only be a huge joke on his cousin's part.

"Can you prepare y/n's coffee?" Sunghoon asked in a low voice. Jay shook his head and looked ahead, noticing that you were sitting at a table further away, but now downstairs and not upstairs as you usually did.

"Why? I'm busy and—"

"I need to attend to the tables upstairs, everything's full" that part wasn't a lie. But Sunghoon didn't have to tell him that he had already waited at half the tables and only had to take a bottle of water to a girl who had ordered without any hurry.

Jay didn't have much to deny you, after all, you were a customer and he couldn't afford to miss an order like that. So, preparing your iced caramel as he always did, he felt his fingers almost crack the plastic when the door opened, revealing Terry.

That man at whom Jay felt a sudden rage just from the exchange of glances between them.

Terry didn't even bother to say hello, walking over to the table where you were and sitting down without saying a word. Now, more than quickly, Jay had to finish your order and run to the table to give it to you. At least to find out what was going on and what Terry was doing there.

The iced caramel was prepared with care, even though the boy's nerves were on edge just to run to the table. As soon as he arrived, Jay hissed softly to get his and Terry's attention.

"Your iced caramel" Jay placed the glass on the table "Sunghoon is busy with the tables upstairs…"

"Thanks, Jay" you took a long sip of the drink, the familiar taste making your whole body relax as you looked at the boy and then at Terry "Aren't you leaving?"

Jay almost froze, thinking the question had been directed at him, but no. His eyes didn't leave Terry as the question was asked.

"We need to talk, y/n."

Your gaze soon met Jay's, he looked as lost as you because this wasn't part of Sunghoon's plans. You, in fact, had no idea what the other Park had prepared. And speaking of him, the boy's orbs were almost popping out when he saw Jay standing near your desk and Terry sitting right in front of you.

Sunghoon didn't think much of it and quickly went over to all of you to see what was going on.

"Hey, is everything all right with your order around here?" he asked.

"Yes," you smiled, "Terry was just leaving."

There was a short silence before he got ready to leave. He didn't wave or look back as he left the café in heavy, hurried steps, leaving you with the two Park baristas standing next to your table.

"Y/n… Are you okay?" Sunghoon asked.

"I have to go" for the first time all week, you left without finishing your coffee. Without saying goodbye to either of you and, what's more, without smiling as you always did when you walked through the door and waved to the guys at the counter.

"Go after her" Sunghoon turned quickly to his cousin.

"What? I—"

"Jay, go after her. Now!" he ordered so desperately that it was as if Sunghoon depended on it. And, of course, he did. Because his cousin's performance had gone downhill after that weather. You also didn't seem as cheerful as you always did, even on the most troubled days at work.

So he felt he had to do something, and he knew he'd made the right request as soon as Jay quickly untied his apron and ran out of the café. Almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to catch up.

Sunghoon could handle things on his own for a few minutes, he thought. Because if his cousin had asked him to run, Jay wasn't going to disobey. He wouldn't miss his chance even if he didn't think he had one.

"Y/n!" he shouted so loudly when he saw you cross the street to enter the huge corporate building on the other side.

To Jay's surprise, you turned around so quickly that you were only able to process the boy's presence when he had already crossed and stopped right in front of you.

He was panting, his hair tousled by the wind and the light jog. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to normalize his breathing and looked at you so closely that you wondered if you had ever been in such proximity before.

"Jay? Why are you here? Why… did you come running?"

You also tried to fight the urge to scream at the sight of him standing right in front of you. The smell of cologne invading your nostrils and realizing that you were completely right when, one night, you fantasized that he was annoyingly smelly.

And even more beautiful once he was bent over far enough, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I don't know what I'm doing here, to tell you the truth" he whispered so close that you couldn't tell if that slight breath of air was Jay's breathing or the wind off the street "I just felt like I needed to come."

"I guess you did the right thing, then."

If Jay didn't know why you'd run over there – or he did – you were going to pretend you didn't either because your hands went to his face to pull him closer, before you felt Jay's lips against yours.

That had been the perfect kiss for as long as you could remember. The way he managed to hold you, tangle his tongue in yours, and press his lips to yours… It was as if Jay's mouth had been made to kiss you. As if that moment had to happen that way.

After breathing became necessary for both of you, Jay made a point of still staying close to you after the kiss stopped, just feeling your breathing normalize against his mouth before laughing softly.

"What?" you asked, laughing along with him as Jay's hand slid slowly down your cheek.

"I never thought I'd like iced caramel like that…"

For a few seconds, you didn't understand what he meant, but as soon as Jay kissed you again, holding your face firmly between his hands, you knew.

The coffee he had prepared minutes before was on your lips, now being transferred to Jay. He knew it was your favorite, he knew iced caramel was famous for a reason. He just didn't know he'd get hooked on tasting it any other way.

© ikeuverse, 2023. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[da-rulah]

Hope you’re doing well!! Your work is amazing recently as always!! Thanks you for always providing us with such great writing😭

How do you think the papas would react if reader said “i love you” for the first time during sex?

Hello lovely, I'm so sorry this has taken literally weeks to get around to but I'm here and I'm motivated so let's get INTO IT.

Thank you so much too, I'm so glad you like my writing! 🥹 Hopefully, you'll love this too...

NSFW, MDNI!

TW/ female reader, breeding kink (kind of), dom/sub dynamic, choking, cunnilingus, crying during sex

Primo

Primo is a master at this, and it's one of his favourite things to do.

His tongue works absolute magic between your folds, and the chorus of whines and moans he draws out of you are his favourite of the dark hymns he's heard in his time.

He's been at this for over 30 minutes, made you cum twice already and shows no signs of tiring, despite his age.

Frankly your head was hazy and you could barely string thoughts together, curses and praises flowing freely from loose lips...

So that's why you didn't register when it slipped out. The only thing you noticed, was Primo's tongue disappearing.

When it dawned on you, panic rose in your chest.

"What did you say, fiorellina?" He hasn't moved, but his eyes are on yours while you look down at him between the valley of your breasts. There was no hiding it now.

"I-I... I'm sorry... but I love you, Primo."

He rests his cheek against your inner thigh, his eyes softening and a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Why do you apologise, fiorellina?"

You begin to tear up, overwhelmed with fear and regret but Papa turns his head and beings to press kisses to your inner thigh.

"Never apologise, amore mio... non puoi immaginare quanto ti amo (you cannot imagine how much i love you)" he say as he mouths at your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses as he spills his adoration right back to you.

He showers you with the most beautiful of prose, speaking nothing but pure poetry about how much he loves you, how he has since the day he met you, that you were a blessing from the Dark One... all while still between your legs, his lips and tongue working their dark magic on you...

Secondo

'Sessions' with Secondo often included hours of teasing, of orgasm denial, of working you up until you couldn't take it anymore...

And then, finally, he'd take you as his.

Much like tonight, where he had you spread out on your back for him, and he was relentlessly hammering his hips into yours after over an hour of nothing but toys and teasing.

You hadn't meant to say it, but when he'd told you tell him exactly what you were thinking, landing a harsh spank to the underside of your thigh that he pressed against your torso, it just... escaped.

Secondo stilled immediately, his eyes wide and crazed as they bore down into yours.

Suddenly his hand was around your throat, pinning you to the mattress beneath you.

"Say that again," he growled, daring you.

You knew better than to argue or disobey a command, and even with his hand wrapped around your throat, you stuttered out a weak confession one more time.

Now, Secondo had a rule about your sessions - he never kissed you. You were here to play, to be subservient. That was the agreement.

So when he lurched himself forwards and all but swallowed your lips with his own, you couldn't help the squeak of surprise that got lost between the hand around your throat and his lips moulding with yours.

"You do not lie, vero? (right?)" he asked, his forehead pressed to yours as his still-angry looking eyes searched yours. But it wasn't anger, it was desperation.

You shook your head as much as his grip allowed, and he dove in for another kiss - one that you could better anticipate, yet was no less aggressive than the last.

He released his grip on your throat and redistributed it to your hip, starting to pound back into you over and over as he kissed you.

He let you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, suddenly more intimate than you had ever been together.

It didn't even bother you that he hadn't said it back immediately. You knew. Just from his behaviour, you knew.

It wasn't until you had both climaxed and found yourself being pulled into an embrace between his sheets that he finally said what you'd longed to hear for too long.

"Ti amo, dolcezza... By Satan, I swear, ti amo..."

Terzo

Your relationship with Terzo was exclusive by this point. He only had eyes for you, still in the beginning phase of a relationship that was exciting and fresh.

You knew you loved him, there was no doubt in your mind, but telling him was another story.

Did he love you back? You were sure of it. He doted on you like no other. But you knew it would be hard for him to say the words, given his inability to handle emotion and have a half-serious conversation about feelings.

Not to mention the fact he found it difficult to believe he was worthy of a love like yours...

You figured you'd have to be the one to say it first. Terzo was too insecure. You had to give him the confirmation he needed.

You just didn't expect it to rocket out of you as he was buried inside you from below you...

You saw the concentrated expression on his face vanish, and he looked up at you so fast you half expected him to bolt from beneath you and hide.

"You do, eh?" he asked, his eyebrow quirking up and his smirk lifting the corner of his lips. "You love your Papa?"

You stopped rolling your hips and swatted his arm playfully.

"I'm serious, Terzo... I love you..."

Terzo's smirk softened into in blissful grin, and he sat up to come face to face with you, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you connected.

"I love you too, tesorino," he told you plainly, honestly. All he'd needed was the affirmation.

You sealed your confessions with a kiss that would make the circles of Hell envious, his hands roaming your skin as if he couldn't leave a single square centimetre of it untouched by the love you deserved.

Suddenly, he flipped you onto your back, not once disconnecting himself from you.

"You're mine now, no take-backsies..." he grinned, bowing his head to suckle and nibble at your neck while his hips began to piston his cock in and out of you once again.

Copia

You don't know what's got into him tonight, but nothing seems to be enough for Copia.

Never enough kisses, never enough flesh to grab or suckle at, never enough of you... He needs more, he seems so desperate.

There's this urgency you can't explain, like there's something missing.

You think you know what it is, the feelings between you lingering in the air but evading capture like smoke.

He's becoming agitated, like it's frustrating him that he can't find what he needs from you tonight. He's growling into the swell of your breast as he fills you.

"C-Copia stop... stop..." you pause him, pushing on his chest until he's hovering above you, his Baphomet pendant swinging from his neck between you. He's coated in sweat, his paints melting under the duress.

"What's wrong?" he asks, panicked.

"I was going to ask you that..."

His head droops as he lets out a deep breath. He swipes his hand over his face, smearing what's left of the melting paint.

"Mi dispiace... I just... something is missing..."

You take his face in your hands, and he looks distraught... It's all you want to do, to comfort him. To reassure him, give him what he's missing...

"It's because I need to tell you something, Copia. And I need you to hear me, no matter the consequence..."

He waits for you to go on, his heart thundering in his chest from his exertion and the fear of whatever you were about to say to him.

"I'm in love with you."

The change in him is almost instantaneous. His eyes turn glassy, and his shoulders relaxed as if the tension dissolved in them.

"Anch'io sono innamorato di te... (I'm in love with you too...)" he cries, tears spilling and dripping to your own cheeks, painting them with grey streaks while your own drip down your temples.

Any fear you had that your feeling weren't reciprocated, that he would panic and leave; well, they made you feel ridiculous now. Of course he loved you too.

"Make me yours, Copia..." you told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and threading your fingers into his hair. "Give me everything you have."

With a new fire in him, the embers stoked by your confession and flames roaring to life again, he slammed his hips into yours over and over.

"You have all of me, amore. I'll give you every last fucking drop of me..." he lifted his hand from beside you where he held himself up, and flattened it against your abdomen, "until everyone can fucking see that we belong to each other."

The urgency in him returned, except this was different to before. Now he had that missing piece, and his need to have you both coming undone together, consummating your confessions had taken over....

[trashcanfanfics]

Part 2 Of Vigilante!Reader

Part 1 ^

It's been a while since Jason had seen you. No fighting on the rooftops. No seeing you in the distance. No banter. Nothing. It was driving him crazy. He hadn't seen you in weeks. He wondered what could have happened. Did you get hurt? Why did that hit him in the gut?

"Jaybird!" The voice made him groan and grapple off the roof to another. "Wha-! Aw, c'mon!" Dick followed him for the next few buildings until Jason gave up and stopped. He turned towards Nightwing.

"What?" He growled out. Dick raised his hands and his smile grew wider. He didn't like that smile. It irritated him and made his sour mood worse. Jason grit his teeth.

"I just came to say hi!" The older man shrugged. He seemed extra bouncy tonight. Maybe it was just Jason being on edge. "Oh, and to tell you about this new vigilante." Jason's heart jumped at the mention. Was it you? That'd be a coincidence. He was just brooding over you.

"New vigilante?" He tried not to sound too eager. Knowing Dick, he'd grab hold of that and run with it. "What's the name?" Nightwing's smile switched to a smaller, less energetic one. Just a friendly, non bouncy one. Jason really was tense tonight.

"Yeah." He said your alias. Jason's chest felt tight. "They were just over near the edge of your territory. We talked, they seemed nice." Jealousy rippled under the Red Hood's skin. Dick got to talk to you tonight and he hadn't heard your muffled voice in weeks. It boiled his blood. He hardly noticed Damian joining them on the roof.

"Are we discussing the new vigilante?" Even Robin knew who you were. "They seemed competent enough." Of course the brat talked to you too. Was everyone going to talk to you before he could even look at you again? He swore if one more person came up on the roof, he'd kick them off it.

~*~

You were avoiding the Red Hood. It became too complicated for you. You started to feel giddy at the thought of seeing him. That was dangerous and stupid. You didn't even know who he was under that mask. And he's killed people.

"Fucking stupid." You muttered to yourself, climbing into your window and taking off your mask. Your patrol went perfect, well, almost. You ran into Nightwing and Robin earlier. Separately, which was weird considering the latter usually had someone with him. You entered your room and took off your gear. The sun was rising and you decided to go to the convenience store on the corner to get something to eat. You were craving a doughnut.

The door dinged as you entered and went to the pastry case. Someone was already there. A tall man with black hair, a white streak falling over his eyes. He wore a red hoodie and black sweats. Why do those boots look familiar? The florescent lights haloed him. He was beautiful. You recognized you were staring and quickly laid your eyes on the bear claw in the case. The one the beautiful stranger just grabbed. Dammit.

You moved to the case, making the stranger look at you and move out of your way. He took the last one. Motherfucker. You sighed and grabbed your next choice. The stranger looked down at his hand that held the bear claw and back to you. He shrugged to himself and walked to the register. That ass knew what he did. Your blood pressure rose. You almost tripped him out of habit. Why was that a habit with this stranger?

"Would you like a bag?" The cashier's monotone voice pulled you back to the moment. You stood in line behind Mr. Dickface. He finished his transaction and looked back at you for a second before going to leave. The cashier looked at you. "Is this everything for you?"

"Yeah." You noticed the stranger stop and turn his head back towards you. You kept him in your peripheral just in case he tried something. Though, you think if he wanted to rob the store he would've done it already. "No, I don't need a bag." The cashier gave you your change and you turned towards the exit. That was still blocked by the stranger. He exited and held the door open the door for you. You thanked him and walked out, still keeping an eye on him.

"I'm Jason." He held his hand out to you once you were out of the door. You looked down at his hand then back to meet his eye. He offered a small smile. You tentatively reached out and shook his hand, introducing yourself. His smile widened slightly, face briefly showing recognition before going back to a neutral politeness. It put you on edge.

"Well...Thanks." You turned around and began walking to your apartment. He didn't follow you but you made sure to take the long, complicated way home. You even used the fire escape in the alley instead of going into the building. Weird, beautiful stranger.

[river13245]

Can you write a oneshot were Penelope(criminal minds) has a bf who owns a successful bakery and Penelope tells the team about him and go to said bakery to meet him?

Warnings: None just a bunch of fluff and niceness. I rather like this one. Thanks for the Request I Loved it.

-----

Running a bakery was not as easy as most people thought it was. especially when you need everything to be perfect and to run smoothly. You only ever had a few people working at a time and they were all teenagers just needing a job. They did their job well, it wasn't their fault that you were always making sure everything was perfect.

Today had been a busier day than normal, you had got up early because your girlfriend had woken up at a god awful time and the warmth that left the bed was enough to wake you. She of course had apologized but you reassured her it was perfectly okay while placing kisses to her lips and cheek.

As she got herself ready you did the same. However not before packing her a lunch and sneaking her some pastries into her bag that you had made.

Once it was time for the both of you to leave and go your separate ways she placed both hands on your cheeks and kissed you. It was a kiss that took your breath away because of how sweet it was. She was always affectionate, she was perfect in every single way. "Goodbye my love" she says softly as she grabs her bag that has her food. "Goodbye beautiful, be safe at work"

She nods and blows you a kiss before walking out of the house leaving you to go to your own job.

When you got there you walked into the kitchen area where you bake everything. Its a very big kitchen since you need to bake loads of pastries and make coffee, tea and a bunch of other drinks. You begin to make sure you have all the pastries you think you will need and once you are happy with the number you begin to grab at least one of each pastry to set up on the display so people can see some of your newer baked goods.

You were there fairly early so you had time to send Penelope a short text before reading until you opened.

Some of the workers had came at the right time and they said good morning to you and asked if there were any pastries that needed to get done first and when you tell them the plans for the day they nod. As they get started you begin to play some music on the speakers keeping it at a comfortable volume. Especially as people started to file in.

While someone runs the register you find your way around the tables and clean up as people come and go. Sometimes you would go into the kitchen to help them bake and monitor everything.

The place was busy for most of the day, you barely had time to text Penelope but when you would feel the vibration of your phone you always tried to check it and respond. However when you had your hands in dough you hadn't seen the text that she had sent telling you that the team and her were going to be dropping by.

You hadn't met the team yet but its something you have been wanting to do. Just that all of them rarely had time to be together outside of work. So while you had just put everything in the fridge and the oven to make your last batch of the day so you can start fresh tomorrow you heard the door open.

Everyone had already left and went home. You always stayed after so you could bake at least one batch of everything so tomorrow you didn't have to come in so early and be behind.

When you heard the door you turn around with dough still on your hands that you need to wash off you see your girlfriend with her team. "oh Hi guys sorry I will be right with you" you held up your hands slightly before going to the sink and washing it all off and drying your hands with a towel.

Finally you walk up to Penelope and kiss her cheek before looking at everyone. The man you assume is Morgan (aka Chocolate thunder) speaks first "who is this baby girl?" She laughs and if it were anyone else you would have not been happy with the nickname but since its Morgan you arent worried about it at all especially when she grabs your hand and smiles. "this is my boyfriend y/n"

All their eyes turn to look at you and one by one they hold their hand out for you to shake as they introduce themselves. First you shake Aarons hand, his grip was firm and gives you a small nod. Next was Rossi, his handshake was. Different it wasn't firm but it wasn't gentle either. Somewhere in between. As you shook their hands Spencer didn't hold out his hand.

You didn't make it a big deal because depending on the day you don't like to be touched a lot either. Instead you give him a nod and a small smile. "Its nice to meet you Spencer" he gives you a small nod "its nice to meet you too"

Emily is quick to look around and look at you "I know you're closed but could we get a pastry?" Everyone else seems to be hungry too as they begin to look around. "yeah of course what would you all like"

They all order tell you your order while you go and get Penelope's favorite and hand it to her. JJ is quick to say "awe that's the cutest" Penelope shoos her and laughs. While you go get everyone's order and hand it to them. "here you guys go. Lets sit down"

You all get two tables and push them together before sitting down. They tell you all about Penelope which causes Penelope to blush or laugh but the topic turns to about everyone's family and their own lives. Conversation was easy even with all of you there and eating. This felt like one of the most normal things that could happen, just a family spending time together.

Penelope was resting close to you with her head on your chest lightly, Spencer was sitting in between JJ and Derek, Aaron was beside Rossi, and Emily was beside JJ.

It seemed as if Jennifer and Emily were together but you didn't want to pry for information even if they were holding hands under the table. Spencer and Derek were wearing the same socks. Okay well not the exact same socks but Derek was wearing socks with the Tenth doctor on it while spencer was wearing the Tardis. It was fairly cute.

Eventually the dreadful time of night where they all needed to get home came. You all said your goodbyes while Penelope stayed by your side. Once they all left she turns to look at you and kisses your cheek. "tonight was really nice. Thank you for letting us keep you busy for a little longer. They all needed to get out and have a bit of normal after this case"

Leaning down to place a kiss to her forehead you nod "its no problem. They were all very lovely, also the two couples who aren't so subtle as they think they are looked like they needed to get out"

She laughs and walks with you to the car "we all know they are together. They just haven't said anything.

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXX. “gut feeling”

parts: previous / next

plot: in an untoward evening, Bruce gets protective.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, violence, drugging, aggression, description of injury, angst, nausea/vomit, basically Gotham being Gotham

words: 6.7k

a/n: oooowieeee Bruce is really starting to show his more flustered side 🤭

PHOTOS: EMT Says Bruce Wayne “Lucky to be Alive" After Harrowing Crash on Tower Grounds

You'd been walking the sidewalk just before Rai's when you got the news alert. Even with his warning, one that left you for a few seconds when first staring at the phone, it was like being pummeled by a brick. Tethered to your screen, flipping through the photos TMZ posted like they were scripture. After a few heavy exhales, you gathered yourself enough to walk inside. The familiar 'Welcome in!' before a double-take. "Y/N? What are you doing here? You said you left?"

In all honesty you'd forgotten about your last conversation, the last moments before tragedy, and hadn't prepared for what you'd say to people outside of what you were to tell Mar. You did your best to laugh it off, but he wasn't taking it. He walked around the register and stood in front of you, right by the Oreos. "Always been able to read you, friend. Tell me, what's on your mind?"

Ding! The door opened to a cluster of women and Rai gave you a playful finger wag. "Foiled this time."

You joined half of the pack as they perused the drink aisle, then the other that clustered by the deli. He was almost out of tabbouleh, and the second best thing in your opinion—baklava—was being thirsted after by the two people in front. You decided to get some pita and hummus to go.

Rai didn't have time to talk to you with the line of people behind you, and for a brief moment you thought about staying—but your bed was calling your name, so you kept it simple. "I decided to stay for a few more weeks, at the very least. I'll be back soon for more tabbouleh." You winked at him, smiled, and found yourself right back where you had rotted the past 36 hours.

Rai sent you a text about fifteen minutes later. Heard you're a big journalist now girl! How does it feel to be published?

The message stopped you in your tracks; it was the first time someone had mentioned the interview without also mentioning Bruce Wayne. It brought tears to your eyes. He was the first person truly interested in your experience with it, about how it was just a project, not the person, that was the cool part.

I'm staying a bit longer for the election. Especially with how much traction my interview got, I think I carved out some legitimacy for myself to maybe make a difference reporting on the mayoral campaign.

He must've gotten swamped because your next text from him wasn't until an hour later. Whatever keeps you near Gotham and tabbouleh makes me happy. Bouleh on me next visit.

It was a running joke how often you ordered it; it was almost a hyperfixation, the flavor of it orienting you to time and place whenever things got harried. You learned a few months after being here that you needed some routine and, well. That was yours. The glow of your iPad screen was also an ever-present friend:

SEARCH: Marian Grange

Google showed that Grange was the former district attorney, a big-time lawyer taking on some very high profile cases in her time. A handful of years ago she had made her way to Gotham—notably, with just enough years of residency to run for Mayor this calendar year. Since coming to the city, she hadn't taken on any more cases, submitting wholly to the pursuit of... socializing? She was often pictured with the elite, holding hands with a beaming smile, endlessly pictured throughout her public-facing Instagram going to various fundraisers and luncheons. Per her campaign website, she wanted to stop the 'targeting' of the city's rich. Out of the many filler words on her 'issues' page, that was the only information you could glean.

SEARCH: Sebastian Hady

Hady's 'issues' page was a bit more complex: in addition to his position of taxing the churches, he wanted to put out an immediate hit on the batman. He'd attempted to run for mayor in the past two elections, falling short of winning enough votes to make the final matchup, and it was clear why: his politics were inconsistent. Tax the churches, but don't tax the wealthy; increase taxes on the poor, so they could 'bootstrap' their way out of their 'unfortunate predicament'. As out of touch as Grange was, Hady made your stomach flip. He'd been a political science major, with no real experience due to being denied access to Gotham University's Public Administration graduate program. Outside of running incessant campaign ads on late-night television and blaring his oversaturated frame across the city streets, he'd mostly laid low.

SEARCH: Lincoln March

BRRT BRRT. BRRT BRRT. "Mar?"

"Have you seen the news? I didn't have any reception in the lounge."

Every time she went to the Iceberg Lounge you wanted to hold her by her collar and give her a desperate talking-to. You gripped the phone tighter. "It's dangerous, you know the type of shady shit that's gone down there the past few years?"

"So you haven't seen it." She slurped away on a drink. “Sour as hell.”

Ding! You pulled your phone away from your ear to see the TMZ article. Your gut cinched.

"It's all anyone's talking about. People are getting into massive arguments on Scypher about it, it's fucking crazy."

"Arguments?" You bit the inside of your cheek.

She scoffed on the other line. "You're joking, right? Some people are saying he was DOA and had to be revived!"

A lurching clump of bile hurtled into your mouth, forcing you to double over and squeeze your mouth shut. Everything about that sentence haunted you, from the almost incredulous way she delivered it to Gotham's colloquial use of shorthand when describing being killed. He might've been fucking dead? Fuck, fuck...

"Hello? Y/N? Hello?" She groaned. "You're acting weird. Haven't even told me why you're still in the city."

"Don't you think it's a heavy fucking thing to talk about like that? You can't throw around someone being, someone being fucking, dead!" You were more shrill than you meant to be, but you didn't exactly have the resources to control your tone while you clutched your stomach and held your breath, not wanting to taste the vomit you'd just swallowed.

"Shiiit, I thought you didn't like him." If she turns this into a conversation about dating...

"I already saw it earlier."

"Think it'll interfere with your interview?" The sound of background whistling and whooping created an unsettling soundscape.

"I really don't care if it does."

"Pretty rude of the guy, in my opinion. Stealing your thunder like that?"

She's drunk. She doesn't know any better. Hell, might even be wasted. Still, your hand shook with anger to the point you had to set the phone on your comforter and scoot back from it. You pressed your palms flat against your mouth to keep from screaming. Screaming what, you didn't know. You were beginning to understand what it was like for Bruce to talk to you as you struggled to speak through gritted teeth. "That's really disrespectful, Mar."

"I'm jooookingg!" She cackled and you heard a clatter. "Oh shit hahaha, my phone. Hello? Still there?"

Don't want to be. "Yeah. Do you need me to call you an Uber?"

"Nahh, this guy's taking me home."

"What about Gianna?" She always hung around Gianna; you'd only met her once when Mar got picked up, and only for about five seconds, but after a brief look over her socials (and an impressive LinkedIn) you were inclined to think she was a good influence. Gianna had to be with her.

"I haven't asked her to be exclusive yet, you know that." Her words were beginning to slur.

"Who's the guy?"

"Some dude I met at the bar, he's super fuckin' rad."

"I'm sending an Uber to your location. Come up to my apartment, we'll spend the night together." Did she always leave with someone when she didn't go out with you? You pictured her being preyed upon, studied in the pulsing lights of the club. It made you sick.

"Okay bossy. No." She giggled to herself. "His apartment is like half a mile north, he's walking me." She hung up. Jesus. You threw on your sneakers, grabbed a taser, and raced outside, scanning your apartment fob to access the free-use bike garage. Iceberg Lounge was about a fifteen minute walk south.

It was terrifying biking on the streets of Gotham. Half the street lamps didn't work, and the drivers were all fiendish assholes who drove like they wanted to smear bodies on the pavement. You'd almost thought yourself lost until you spotted a glint of her neon pink cami.

"Hey!" You tried not to sound too menacing; maybe this was a rare good guy in Gotham, and he was gonna tuck her in safely to his spare bed and make sure she had a nice, non-laced drink of water at her bedside. No fucking way. "Hey,"

"Y/N?" Mar looked shocked at your arrival.

You dismounted your bike and grabbed her hand. When you did, the man grabbed your forearm. You ignored him and spoke directly to her. “Let’s head back to my place.”

”Interrupting our date.” The man laughed, but it was indignant. He still wasn’t loosening his grip on your arm. Getting a closer look at Mar, she was disheveled; her straps were sliding off her arm, exposing the top of her bra; her belt was halfway undone, yet her lipstick was pristine.

“We have a rule to not go home with people when we’re drunk.” You flashed him a smile, his green eyes dark and menacing. Why do I always notice the eyes?

“Sounds like BS to me.” He tried to laugh again when he said it, which only pissed you off. He probably thought he was one of the ‘good guys’ and didn’t understand why no one ever called him for a second date. You snaked your left arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. A quick once-over noted him wearing a thick leather jacket with white cuffs, and dark blue jeans with rips in the knees. His shoes were a nondescript pair of white Nikes. “You seem perfectly sober, interesting.” Mar was unsteady in your grasp, her weight leaning slightly too much into you, her knees wobbly. Did he fucking slip her something?

You swatted away his hand, which had a butterfly effect; he swiftly grabbed your ponytail, yanking on it so you were removed from between them. He grabbed her by the elbow as you stuttered back, tears springing into your eyes from the tension of having your hair yanked. He couldn’t quite walk as fast as he wanted to, her legs catching on every crack in the sidewalk. In this city that meant a long, treacherous walk anywhere, and an opportunity for you to strike.

You pulled out your taser and ran closer to him before slamming your finger on the trigger. A small catch of electricity came from the tip, then faltered. It’s not charged. Fuck. He turned toward the nearest apartment complex, and you lunged for his neck. He was tall, but not too tall, and there were a few steps he’d climbed to the doorway. You were able to wrap your palm around half of his neck, pulling him down hard on the concrete. Before he’d even smacked the ground you jumped down the stairs and slammed your foot into his balls, as hard as you could, your left foot skipping atop the concrete with the force as it struggled to balance. He cursed, spit flying out of his mouth as he clutched his groin. Mar was barely holding onto the siderails at this point, confirming she’d been slipped something. His legs thrashed wildly, his grunts filling the empty sidewalk. He caught your ankle and you fell back, smacking your head against the bottom stair. For a few seconds all you could do was breathe, the air knocked out of you and your vision blurry, stilted. He rose to his knees, and you scrambled back. By the grace of whatever God may or may not exist, you were able to get back on your feet before he did. The transition made you wildly dizzy, and before you knew it you fell to your knees again.

Mar was barfing off the edge of the railing, crying. You figured she had no idea what was going on, just knew that it was bad; the first and only time you’d been roofied was out with Mar one night. You’d tasted your drink and within a few minutes you were feeling woozy. Make it ten minutes later, and the room was a glowing haze of smoke and mirror—literally. You were seeing double everywhere you looked, locked in your own cage of whatever someone else did to you. Thankfully Mar had enough experience to notice the initial signs of being drugged (at least, in someone else) and had immediately called an Uber and notified the staff of the bar. She’d tended to you the rest of that night, and when you woke up her eyes were buggy and bloodshot. “I stayed up all night watching you. I didn’t want you to like, choke in your sleep or something.”

You attempted to raise your head, but it was pounding, whiting out your vision when you tried to support it with just your neck. You grabbed your phone and managed to open it to your phone app, but he smacked it away. You watched through bleary eyes as it soared into a bit of bark dust beneath some shrubs, landing face-down. All you saw was a gentle emanation of dark blue light. It called someone.

“HELP!” You shouted, hoping that whoever it was would hear you. Most of your contacts (you didn’t have too many) had access to your location information. You’d gotten scared after a few harrowing abduction stories in the Gazette and sent a mass text to the people in it with your info. Someone would call, and it would be fine. “CALL 911.”

Mar slumped to the ground and balanced her head against the railing, tears streaming down her cheeks. This part of town was deceptively barren, of course it was. The man grabbed you by the ankles and you screamed, jerking your legs until one broke free. “HELP!”

A part of you thought it would be okay—until you remembered Batman wasn’t on patrol tonight. Your heart sank as you watched him latch both hands onto your other ankle… and then he dropped you. He turned and walked halfway between the road and the apartment doors—why wasn’t anyone coming out to help?—and faced you, his mouth slobbery and in a slack grin. He shook out his body and flexed his fingers, taking a moment to hype himself up. You tried to sit up again, grinding your molars with the effort, but you nearly blacked out. The only thing that came to mind were the earthquake drills from elementary school, of hiding under your desk with your hands over your head to protect from falling debris. He was falling debris. Inevitable. You wrapped your hands around your aching head. Pressed your elbows together in front of your nose. Tucked your chin, barely, to protect your neck. He took off in a sprint for you, his sneakers connecting brutally with your thigh. You screamed, and he kicked it again. And again. And again. “See how you like it, fucking bitch.”

Mar screamed behind you; weak, but undeniable. “Stop it,” She stumbled toward you as his foot barreled into you with unbridled ferocity. She grabbed onto his arm and he shoved her off. She reached back out, her nails digging into his skin. He shouted and shoved her hard against the railing, turning his attention on her. She had enough bearings now to dodge a single hit, rolling out of the way before another landed square between her shoulders. You were busy incrementally lifting your head from the cement, centimeter by slow centimeter sitting upright. The man wiped the arm of his jacket against his mouth, muttering. “Bullshit fucking cunts.” He slammed his foot between her legs, and she yelped, rolling over onto her stomach. A wave of nausea stormed through you.

She was slowly rising, but he slammed his fists into her back and she buckled. Her face hit the pavement so hard you hoped her nose wasn’t broken. She started coughing, stringy spit dribbling off her lips. At this point he turned back to you with a sneer. “Guess I’m getting double tonight.”

Sick freak. The pain was edging out your fear, and resignation was teetering towards fruition. You only needed a few more minutes to get your bearings. Long enough to heat up a fucking hot pocket. He slapped you across the face, and you fell back to exactly where you were. Flat against the ground. Thundering head. Unable to sit up, arrested by searing pain.

The sound of skin slamming into skin disoriented you. Thudding, smacking sounds pierced the air, peppered with the man’s grunts and yelps. He sounded like a hit dog. What, the fuck? You shoved your palms against the ground to support your weight, but it wasn’t working. You physically grabbed your jaw and the back of your head and tilted it up, holding it there to watch the scene unfolding a few feet in front of you. A horrible hollow sound echoed just as the man was hurled against the opposite railing, his chest nearly touching his shin as his body bent around the metal. His opponent was adept at fighting; fully hooded with a black shirt wrapped around the bottom half of his face, a thick, baggy jacket bulking his frame, gauze wrapped around his knuckles. You couldn’t make out his full face, but the feeling you got told you all you needed. It wasn’t quite fear, not quite comfort, or peace, but an indisputable sensation of safety. You let your head fall back, too fast, as you sobbed cries of relief.

The mystery man kept trying to fight back, but not a single hit landed. You saw it all in the lower half of your vision. Saw the guy try, fight, and run, and the other stoop down to Mar and help her sit up. Once she was in a safe, neutral position he turned to you—Bruce’s eyes were framed with black, paint smearing down his cheekbones and into his brows. He took your arm and attempted to pull you up to the same position, but you squealed. “I hit my head,”

He sat back like he was calculating something for a moment before cupping his left hand at the base of your head. Holding you like an infant, he slowly tilted you upright. He held his hand just above your neck a few seconds longer. “Gonna let go.” Tentatively, he did, and you resisted your torso’s urge to flop back down.

A car pulled up right then, one you hadn’t seen before. It was flashy, but not a sportscar. He noticed your eyes follow it and lowered his voice. “It’s mine. I’ll take you both home.” He paused, gesturing with his head. “Do you know her?”

You tried to nod but you felt like your head would snap off your neck. “Yeah. My friend. I think, she was drugged.” The pulsing in your thigh was violent, and you worried you might have fractured something. He gave you a once-over, then looked back to her. “I’ll help her in first.”

Bruce tried to help her stand, but she shook her head. “Y/N,” she called out weakly, moving to her hands and knees to crawl toward you. She managed to make her way to your side, panting with the effort. “Who is, why,”

Shit. “Um, he’s my friend. I called him when, when the guy, shit,” Your head was in agony. You struggled to form coherent thoughts, let alone speech. How, clear is she? Recognize? Him? Disguise?

“I trust you.” Her voice no stronger than a whisper. She reached her arms out to him, and he walked over to help her up. He wrapped his arm around her back and to her armpit, hoisting her up and steadying her to the car. The side door opened as he walked up, and he helped her sidle in. He waited a few seconds while she adjusted, then grabbed the seatbelt. You heard him say something, but couldn’t… only if you want maybe? About the seatbelt?

You blinked and he was holding out his hands for you. The scarred, dirty hands that now had traces of fresh blood from reopened knuckle scabs soaking through the gauze. It made you faint thinking about him at the… Arkham. All at once you sat up, the motion sending you reeling. “Fuck!” Your hands trembled as pain ravaged your head, all the blood simultaneously leaving and filling it. “No, you shouldn’t, fuck,”

He squatted to your eye-level. His stare didn’t waver once. “You’re, recovering, I don’t, thanks,” Between every word was a gasp of pain.

His tone was firm, leaving no room for disagreement. “I’m glad you called. I’m taking you home.”

“Are you—”

“I’m fine.” He held out an expectant hand for you to take. You anticipated having to pull your own, but to your surprise he pulled you up with you barely feeling the ground whatsoever. He carried the bulk of your weight, snaking his arm on top of your shoulders instead of under, allowing your neck not to bobble as you both walked. The last time you’d been this close to him you hadn’t known his identity. You recalled his hold being so firm you couldn’t escape, how afraid that had made you until you’d realized it was him. You stopped trying to force your balance and let him guide you the last steps to the car; the door opened automatically again, and he helped you slip in beside Mar. She had her head against the back of the seat, eyes half shut.

“Need help?” He had a finger looped around the seatbelt. Your cheeks heated, and you stammered out a no. He shut the door, and you painstakingly buckled yourself. A part of you wondered what he’d do if you refused to buckle up, and how long he would sit there demanding you put it on before you finally gave in, having sufficiently annoyed him.

When Bruce climbed in, you felt like a child who forgot their lunch on the way to school. You asked him to retrieve your phone, explaining it was under some shrubs by the entryway. Not ten seconds later he was back in, wiping dirt off the screen before handing it back to you. He was so fucking fast.

Mar didn’t talk during the drive, and neither did Bruce, so neither did you. You kept one eye on her at all times, making sure she didn’t fall asleep before you could check if she had a concussion or not. You figured you did, and you were not looking forward to checking in the mirror later looking at the damage done to your left leg. Now I match Bruce. A bitter thought.

You’d had the wherewithal prior to leaving to bring your keychain with you, tucked nicely into your pocket. By some stretch he hadn’t kicked just a few inches higher, which would have probably left you with a gaping wound from the jagged ends of the keys fileting your hip. You held the fob out the window when he pulled up to the garage, and in another blink he was helping Mar out.

“Can you stand?” Mar was slumped into his shoulder as he supported her weight. “Might have to carry her.” She looked exhausted, with her eyes glazed over, her face sweaty. You watched her chest with diligence, and per usual he sensed you, reading you like he was superhuman. “Her respiration’s normal. You can check the rest of her when you get your bearings.”

You unbuckled and tried to stand, but even shifting halfway out the car scared you. The ground phased in and out of your vision, the depth completely lost. As much as it burned… You sighed. “Take her up first. I think I need help walking.”

You handed him your keychain and he went on his way. Only after he’d disappeared up the elevator did you question it. I let her go up alone with a man? In this state? You couldn’t berate yourself much though, because a strong swell of defensiveness ravaged you. It was like the you before and you now were dueling. Condemning your judgment and rationalizing it, back and forth.

There was truly just something about him. Maybe you were infantilizing him and the past week was clouding your judgment. Maybe he moonlighted as Batman to cover up his serial killer tendencies. Keep the cops trained on an alternate identity, a vigilante. But he made you feel safe. He always made you feel held. Even when your mind took over and convinced you he was wrong, convinced you you should be afraid, your body never internalized it. That gut feeling you got around other men; the other men at city hall, the other men at the club, some of the men in your undergrad classes, even some of the professors… your stomach never curdled like that around him.

You didn’t think about it any further.

Bruce jogged out the elevator and helped you out. You ignored how your stomach fluttered being pressed so close to him, fought the tears that begged at the edge of your eyes, and let yourself sink into his chest. At some point you closed your eyes and concentrated on the roughness of his jacket against your cheek, and the patter of his heartbeat. Warmth. Alive. Breathing. Secure.

You being so close to him made him keen to his breathing. His body felt tingly and dizzy. He held you tighter. Every exhale fluttered the hair in front of your face, wisping it across your eyelashes. Was his breathing too loud? Were you falling asleep? He rustled you slightly, just taking a step slightly too hard, not wanting you to—your lashes fluttered, having caught you right before slipping into dreamland. He needed to keep you awake, at least long enough to do a proper assessment. Long enough to make sure you weren’t going to die.

Walking through your doorframe was a beast he realized too late; too narrow to both walk through wide, after your left hip caught on the strike plate and you cried out. He hated how much it felt like someone squeezed his chest when he saw you in pain; if you or your friend had been any less injured, he would’ve taken more time on the perpetrator.

He sat you delicately on the couch, instructing you to sit upright as much as you were able. He unwrapped the cloth from over his mouth, shoving it into his jacket pocket. He asked if he could touch the back of your head, and you agreed. His fingers were as gentle as a cat’s whisker, delicately sifting through sweaty clumps of hair that, if it weren’t for even the air moving past it causing flinching pain, might’ve made you soft, weak. You startled when he removed his hand. “Can’t feel any bleeding, no cuts.” His voice was soft, his eyes scanning everywhere but yours. You were glad.

He asked the date, gave you a few words to recall back, and shined a light in your eyes. You recoiled like he’d slapped you when he pulled out his flashlight, the light causing physical pain. On the jump back, your leg brushed the pillow to your left, and he stared down at it. “May I?” You nodded and he pulled up your shorts; you were biting down on your tongue as his pinky grazed the bruise. “How bad is it?” It was at this point, when he didn’t immediately respond, that you realized he’d turned off the lights in your apartment and only left the lamp on in the corner. Thoughtful.

“Already bruising.” He grimaced, seeing the speckled outline of the shoe’s leather binding indented in harsh red streaks along your leg. His grimace made your face fall; he hardly grimaced like that when he had a fucking gaping wound in his leg. “What? Tell me.”

He shook his head. “A bad bruise, that’s all.” He grabbed your shin lightly and asked you to bend your leg. Then put weight on it. Twist left to right. Flex your hip. Everything worked normally. Still, his brow was twisted together, looking like he was gnawing on his cheek. You eyed him skeptically. “What?”

This was the second time he’d pulled someone off of you in less than six months. Your entire thigh would be lit dark scarlet in just a few days. He’d called Gordon the second he got into his car, and whispered an ID to his watch to ping over when he went to get your phone. He was sure they got him, but all he could think about was brutality; he didn’t like the things he was imagining, the drive to crack all the fingers off the man’s hand and shove them into his petrified, quivering mouth, and the equal drive to wrap you in a hug that never ended to make sure no one else harmed you.

You saw the movement of all these thoughts across his face, but the only source you could track them to was hesitation to tell you the extent of your injury. “Do I need to go to the hospital?”

He wanted to scour every inch of you to look for more lacerations, bruises, bleeds. For possibly the first time ever, he didn’t trust his estimation. You needed a professional, just in case. In case he missed something. In case you’d jostled your brain too much, in case the man had loosened a clot in your leg. He nodded. “I think you should.” He could take a back way there, walk you up to the doors and then put you in a wheelchair at the entrance. His mask would cover up enough, probably. He’d bring your friend with you. She could be checked out too.

You looked to his bloodless palms and fingertips that had just explored your scalp. Down to the splotches across your leg. “Why?” You felt like shit, yeah, but…?

“I might be wrong.”

”About what?”

”The extent of it.”

”What, like a brain bleed?”

”Exactly like that.”

You flicked your gaze up to your bedroom door. “I can’t leave her. Is she okay?” You moved to get up, and it was painful, but you managed. You slammed your hand on his shoulder for emergency balance, and you begrudgingly accepted his support across the living area. Mar was on her side in bed, squinting at her phone that seemed to already be on the lowest brightness. You whispered. “I got it.”

He let you go and walked back to the living room, and you shut the door behind you. You limped over to her and sat on the edge, tapping her ankle to alert her. Slowly her eyes moved to yours. The lipstick that had been untouched was now smeared across her cheeks, and her eyeliner bled and cracked off. “Are you, okay?”

”I think so. Are you?” You were doing exactly what Bruce just had; scanning her body at rapid speed, analyzing for any signs of injury. She looked a bit scraped up on the heels of her hands and knees, and you asked her to turn to take a look at her back. There was still the rough, muddied outline of his shoe from where it connected on her spine, but nothing else of note. Some general redness, and when you touched it she groaned, but didn’t shriek.

You looked into her eyes, but knew you had no idea what to look for. “Did he check you out already?”

She nodded, leisurely. “Shined something in my eye and told me to say stuff, I don’t remember what though.” Her words were still slurred, and the top of her nose was scraped, but nothing looked broken. You thought of the kick he’d done between her legs, and asked if she felt any pain there. She almost giggled. “Bastard forgot I don’t have balls. But, how,” She winced as she adjusted, her back rippling with it. “Cool is it he thought, I did.” She sighed and returned her attention back to her phone.

“Do you have pain anywhere?”

She glanced down at her palms and then pointed to her nose. Her biggest thing then was being drugged, and yours was whatever head thing you had going on paired with a throbbing leg. The thought of leaving your warm bed to go to a bright–fuck, BRIGHT–hospital made you want to actually die. You were gonna take your chances tonight. Oh, it was making you sick thinking about it…

“I’m gonna get some meds. Want some?” Whew, just a few steps through to the kitchen. I can do it! I’ve done it a lot! At least half of the journey is carpet, if I do eat shit. She nodded again (you were very jealous she was able to bob her head), and began your slow shuffle to the kitchen. The second you appeared in the doorway, Bruce jumped to your aid. You waved him off. “I think I’ll stay home.” You grabbed the counter for support.

“I’m taking you in.”

Furrowing your brow hurt your aching head. “I’m gonna take some meds, it’ll, be fine.”

“Then I’m staying.”

He sounded like a scolding parent. You shot a look at him and felt the ground wiggle beneath you. You squeezed your eyes shut which only made it worse. Tried to refocus on the medicine cabinet. So high…

“Let’s go.” He made his voice a bit louder, sterner. You finally scooted close enough to reach the handle, and now worked up the courage to grab it. You rustled around in there for a moment.

“You’re not really going to take that, are you?” His tone was biting. Footsteps, then he snatched the bottle of ibuprofen out of your hand. “Do you want to have a brain bleed?”

Shame coursed through you, another one of his thousand cuts. When you were able to look back at him, he had his eyes shut tight and his lips pursed, one hand holding the bottle and the other gripping the counter. He saw you looking at him and hastily turned away. The pop of the plastic bottle on the marble punctuated his apology. “Sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his hood removed somewhere between your bedroom and the couch. He huffed and tilted his head back to stare at the dark kitchen light. His shoulders rose and fell with every cycle of breath, one for every three blinks. The room was silent like that for a minute. He was so angry… no, he was nervous. Upset.

He caught your eye when you turned and his face fell into something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re not going, right?” He gave the smallest shake of his head and flicked the bottle a few inches. He didn’t wait for your answer. “I’m staying.” He made his voice strong, though you both knew you could kick him out and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Bruce,”

“You’re both incapacitated, leaving you here alone, it’s, it’s not an option.” He was getting flustered. You always took him there. He didn’t stutter, he never caught on his words, never caught on the sidewalk, never overlooked a pedestrian, fuck. His voice was raising, only slightly. His breathing got shallower, his fingers feeling chilled. “I need a minute.” He put his hands over his head and walked to the other side of the room, pacing in front of the couch. The fact the silence felt thick made you want to cut it. “I’ll be fine,”

“Please!” He dropped his hands at his sides and stood facing the cushions.

Deep breath in. Hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. Inhale, hold… exhale. He felt his chest start to release. Inhale, hold… exhale. Hold. Inhale, hold… exhale, hold… the feeling was coming back into his fingertips. Inhale, exhale. Hold… Inhale, slow, hold… exhale, slow, hold. Blink. Blink. Look at the wall. Couch. Hands. Jacket. In, out.

Another big sigh and a small shake, and he looked over his shoulder. He swallowed back globs of saliva that threatened to drown his vocal folds. His cheeks were pink, from what he had no idea. “I’m upset this happened to you.” He figured some transparency wouldn’t hurt, seeing as he’d just watched you get bludgeoned on the sidewalk and the… events of the past weekend. His jaw flexed. “And your friend.” He groaned, feeling frustrated tension fill him again. “I heard your shouting from blocks away. There were plenty of people.” His hands tightened in and out of fists, a motion you never failed to dial into. “No one did a damn thing.”

“Seems about right.” You slowly reached for the ibuprofen and put it back in the cabinet, letting it fall shut with a small tap.

Bruce was facing you now. “You don’t seem fazed.”

You shrugged, but couldn’t raise your shoulders in any meaningful capacity. “People don’t give a shit here.” You winced, as another blow of pain emanated the circumference of your skull. “Of course you don’t,” You flinched, speaking causing coils of pain to vibrate in your head. “Get it.”

He held back the full extent of his response, because he had a full argument sitting on the tip of his tongue. “I’ve seen the worst of it as him. I get it.” His enunciation begged no comment, but it was steamrolled.

“You don’t.” It was going to hurt to push all the words out at once, but the adrenaline of more friction with him was enough fuel to edge it out, momentarily. “You’re only able to be him because of your very unique, situation.” It was suffering to continue talking. “Even if people wanted to, to be you.” You took a small breather, placing both hands on the edge of the counter as the world whizzed by. “We can’t. We have, work, school, people are, shit.”

“We can talk about it later.” He walked to the cupboard and drew some water from the sink. You noticed him rinse it twice before filling. He held it out to you. “Drink. Sips.”

Some muscle in your finger had to have direct access to your brain because when you extended your arm fully to grab it, as soon as your pinky gripped the glass, you shuddered like you’d flicked a nerve. The glass clattered to the ground, exploding shards across the floor. When you ventured to move, he stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it.” He didn’t want you tripping with how unsteady your gait was. He moved to your side and grabbed some paper towels, squatting once more to gather the biggest chunks. “There’s a, broom. In the closet by the door.”

“Y/N?” Mar had made her way out of your room in a drunken shuffle. She’d said your name but her squinted, hazy gaze was focused entirely on Bruce, who was now facing her without his hood, without his mask, almost entirely exposed save the black around his eyes. Her eyes widened. “Is that…”

In your periphery you noticed Bruce’s eyes flick up to yours as his hands slowed. For once he was silent, letting you take the lead–naturally, it was the first time ever you didn’t want to. Fuck.

[frickingnerd]

the things i'd do for you

pairing: akihiko sanada x gn!reader (+shinjiro aragaki)

summary: akihiko is a regular at the coffee shop you work at, even though he doesn't drink coffee. but there's another good reason for him to show up: you, the cute barista he has a crush on!

tags: silly & wholesome fluff, mentions of food & coffee, akihiko asking reader out on a date, shinjiro & akihiko talk about coffee + akihiko's crush on you, reader listening in on aki & shinji, wingman!shinjiro, very awkward!akihiko

every day, akihiko stopped by the coffee shop you worked at to buy some coffee. he'd always get a coffee to go, yet sit down in the seat nearest to the register. you never thought much about him, until one day you noticed, that despite being a regular at the place for a few months now, the boy never once actually drank the coffee he bought!

“i don't think i ever saw him take a sip from his coffee, you know…” one of your co-workers had pointed out to you. “i've kept an eye on him the last few times he was here, but he never once drank the coffee!”

and sure enough, once you had started to pay attention to it, you noticed it too. despite spending all that money on coffee, he never once drank any of it! you wondered what his deal was, but the answer to that question came to you sooner than expected.

“here, you can have this.”

when you were heading home early from your shift one day, you spotted the white haired boy in front of the coffee shop, shoving his cup of coffee into the hands of a taller, long-haired guy. likely a friend of his.

“seriously?” the other boy huffed and laughed, taking a small sip from the coffee. “why do you even go there in the first place, if you're not drinking what you're buying?”

“i appreciate the ambience” akihiko replied, causing the other boy to almost spit out his coffee, as a dry laughter escaped his lips.

“you? appreciating the ambience? i'd have guessed that all those cakes and sweets they sell alongside the coffee would annoy a protein freak like yourself. aren't you all about a healthy lifestyle?” he teased, which caused akihiko to roll his eyes and mumble a quiet ‘shut up’.

“if it's not the coffee or the food…” his friend began to ponder, as a grin slipped onto his lips. “then which of the baristas is it? the cute brunette? maybe the tall blonde? or–”

“finish your coffee, shinji–!” akihiko huffed annoyed in response.

“i will. just one last guess, alright?” shinjiro grinned, as his eyes suddenly darted towards you. “is it the one watching us right now…?”

akihiko's head whipped around just as quickly as you pulled your phone out of your pocket to pretend like you had been busy with your own things all along. but as you heard footsteps approaching, you glanced up from your phone again, to find akihiko stopping in front of you, while his friend waited where they had stood moments ago.

“i… apologize for listening in on your conversation.” you stated, before akihiko could even say anything. “i was merely curious why you never drank the coffee and i–”

“would you… like to go out with me?”

“h-huh…?”

you stared at the boy, perplexed not only that he hadn't been angry with you, but that he had instead asked you on a date. so then, what his friend said about akihiko only showing up to the coffee shop because of the cute barista…

“i should've done that month ago, but–” akihiko sighed, struggling to find the right words. “i'm not particularly good at asking people on dates. i kinda hoped it'd come with time, but… well, clearly it didn't.”

he chuckled awkwardly, causing you to ease up a little and return a small smile. in all honesty, his awkwardness was quite endearing.

“i– i think i'd like to go on a date with you.” you replied after a short moment of consideration. akihiko's face lit up a little, as he tried to hide his excitement.

“cool! that's… cool!” he said, staring at you for a moment, before a quiet ‘oh’ left his lips and he fished his phone out of his pocket. “how about… we exchange numbers! then i can text you about when you have time for our date”

akihiko held his phone out to you and you quickly typed your number and name into it. as you returned it to him, you asked:

“anything you'd like to do?”

“anything is fine with me!” he replied. “as long as we're not getting coffee on our first date…”

[pixiemage]

So do you ever, like - accidentally get inspired to create a whole AU based on an old Tumblr text post, and you know you can't add it to your actual fic list because your existing WIP's are waiting for you, but you end up writing a snippet of it anyway? Yeah. Yeah, me too.

Jimmy knows he's not fully with it when he walks into the villains’ bar this time. He has a new name on his list from Make-a-Wish - Supreme this time - and he's only halfheartedly searching the by-now-familiar faces for the person he needs to talk to. He's not registering much of anything though, and it becomes apparent when two people step in his path and he doesn't notice until he's almost running into them. It's Joel, and it's Tango - Trickster and Phoenix - and the expressions on their faces are different flavors of the same thing. Anger, maybe, but not at Jimmy, simmering below the surface in Tango's case and being held back by a tense jaw in Joel's. And concern too, he thinks, concern and sympathy and- "Hey Songbird," Tango greets him, sounding just to the left of the normal fond tone he uses when he sees Jimmy. "How're you holding up?" "I...sorry?" Jimmy blinks, not quite understanding, and Joel casts a glance around the bar before settling back on Jimmy. "We heard about Mercy." Mercy - oh. Mercy Children's Hospital. Susie. Jimmy's chest goes tight and he swallows past a lump in his throat. A warm hand settles on his shoulder and he's steered over to a booth in the corner, Tango sandwiching him in on one side and Joel taking a seat across the table. Jimmy sucks down a shuddering breath. "...you heard?"

Joel scoffs. "We've been trying to find that bastard since the news broke this morning," he bites out. "The minute the Count gets back we'll know where he is." "You - what?" Jimmy stares, surprised. "You're trying to find him?" "Absolutely." Tango, this time, his arm around Jimmy's shoulders emanating a warmth that he hadn't realized was helping to calm him down. "We're going after that jerk the second we have the chance. The guy crossed a line, big time." Oh. Oh, gosh. Jimmy's vision just barely begins to blur with tears, and he feels Tango's arm tighten around him. There's quiet murmuring around him but he can't bring himself to listen. They're going after Vortex. Jimmy's biggest mistake in his life, and here Tango and Joel are ready to help fix it the second they have the chance. And Grian always said villains weren't to be trusted... "There's a bunch of others who signed up for the mission," Tango is saying, and Jimmy tunes back in. "Supreme and Iris and  Worm Man and some o' the others. They were pretty pissed when they found out-" "And we'll keep your name out of it, o' course," Joel goes on, and Jimmy blinks away tears to focus on him better. Joel rakes a hand back through his green-streaked hair and shrugs. "You're not involved. Keep your record clean, all that-" "No."#Jimmy is almost surprised to hear himself say it, and Joel looks surprised too, his eyebrows flying high. "What, you want us to leave him alone? Dunno if I can do that, Jim-" "No, I mean I want to be involved," Jimmy insists. "I want in." This time it's Tango who's surprised, ducked forward to catch Jimmy's eye. "You sure, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his hair licking with tiny flames. Concerned, probably. "It's not gonna be pretty." "I'm sure." And he is. He's seen fights before, and he's been in even more. He's fought criminals on the streets who were going to hurt people, and he's not about to balk at going after someone who already has. "I can handle it." "You're gonna need to hide your identity," Joel drawls, his voice low. "Wouldn't want our favorite civilian going to jail on our account." "I know," Jimmy nods. "I've got something I can wear." He's already picturing the yellow-and-black costume currently hanging at the back of his closet, of the feather-trimmed mask in his top dresser drawer. The suit and the mask that even Tango doesn’t know exists, not yet. Jimmy ponders for a moment before making a decision. His eyes catch Joel and Tango's in turn. "Actually...I think there's something I need to show you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The arrest had gone far smoother than expected, in Grian’s opinion. It’s not often that a high-priority villain is found bruised and bloody and practically gift-wrapped right where an anonymous tipper said he would be. Sure, vigilantes were kind enough to help them take down bad guy when they were able, but this time was different. This time there was no masked wannabe hero trying to take credit for a takedown, no signature calling card or note beyond the unsigned “He’s all yours, boys” that had been scribbled on cardboard hanging around Vortex’s neck. It had felt odd, is all, though Grian had agreed with his partner when Scar had said he was just grateful to have the guy off the streets. As Grian slips into his apartment through the bedroom window and shoulders open the door to grab some food, he has to force himself to brush the buzzing thoughts aside. He can ponder oddities later. It was a long shift, and he’s about ready to crash the second he gets some fuel in him. It's only when Grian is tugging off his mask and setting it on the table by the bedroom door that he realizes he's not alone. Familiar yellow wings catch his eye, and when he turns, he spots Jimmy sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. He looks exhausted, his Canary costume on and his mask hanging around his neck, and his hair is a wreck - like when he's anxious and has been running his hands through it constantly. "...heya Tim," Grian greets him slowly, not sure what his brother's presence here means just yet. He drops his crossbow on the table and crosses the room, sinking onto the coffee table in from of Jimmy so he can see him better. His expression is one of a man worn and run down, something shadowed in his eyes that has a frown tugging at Grian's lips. He almost opens his mouth to ask what he's doing here - but then he spots the dark stains on Jimmy's fingerless gloves, and the patch of red that's barely splattered across the yellow parts of his suit's design.  It clicks, then. The timing of it all, the villain - Vortex - that Grian and Scar had been called in to take care of tonight. The man who Grian also knew had been spotted at the Mercy Children's Hospital a few days ago, where that little girl had- "You were there," Grian says, not a question, just a fact. "Tonight. You went after him." Jimmy sucks down a shaking breath and nods. Grian would almost say he looks guilty, but he doesn't think Jimmy would feel guilty about going after the person who hurt one of his kids. Perhaps he feels guilty that a kid got hurt at all. "They helped," he says shakily. "All of - you know, the ones who said yes to visits with the kids. They've been trying to do better, and when Vortex-" He trails off, and Grian shifts over to the couch, tucking his brother under one of his wings and letting Jimmy slump sideways against him. "He's locked away, Jimmy," Grian tells him. "I promise. You did good."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[redtsundere-writes]

Favorite Client | Nanami Kento

nanami kento x f!reader

Sypnosis: You fell in love with one of your customers but you don't know if he feels the same way.

Contents: Coffee Shop AU, fluff, Nanami is a nice bussiness man.

Word Count: 1509 words.

Author's Note: Ilhsm.

You opened your own cafe a couple months ago. On opening day, you were very nervous because you didn't know if your coffee or desserts would be enough to compete against the other popular cafes in Tokyo. The nervousness vanished when you met your favorite client. 

There weren't many customers that first day. Some family members and friends came to support your business. Plus, some curious people who had seen the advertisement stopped by. The decoration was not the problem. It was granny's house themed. It was very cozy and aesthetically pleasing. “Don't worry, this is just the first day,” you thought. 

One hour before closing, a tall, serious, blonde man entered the establishment. His wrinkled suit, slight bags under his eyes, and the way he loosely held his briefcase signaled that he had just gotten off work and was very tired. You had to make sure he felt relaxed in your cafe. 

"Welcome, what can I offer you?" You said along with a corporate smile. The man pulled on the knot of his tie to loosen it as he closely inspected the menu. 

“Give me a cappuccino with whole milk and…” His eyes scanned the bar until he reached the display with delicious and colorful desserts.

"They all look tasty, I don't know which one to pick," he said. You genuinely smiled when you heard that. It was the first compliment coming from a client. 

"My favorite is the raspberry muffin. It's sweet but not too sweet. I know because I baked them," you explained proud of yourself. 

"I'll trust you. A raspberry muffin, please," he asked politely. 

"Your name, please?" you asked to complete his order. It took you a moment to realize that wasn't necessary because the place was empty. Your cheeks blushed in embarrassment. 

"Nevermind, I don't think it's necessary," you said with a shy smile trying to hide your nervousness. 

"Nanami," he told you his name before paying you. He might be tired but he wouldn't retaliate against a girl because of his problems at work. 

"Your order will be ready in a minute, Nanami," you said happily thinking that he didn't notice your mishap. He did notice, he just decided not to say anything about it. 

After that day, you started seeing him more often as the months went by. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, even sometimes on weekends. Even though you had your fill of customers, Nanami was definitely your favorite because he always made sure to order something different, which is unusual in other customers. Also, he always asked how your day was and left a good tip before leaving. 

You hadn't had many opportunities to chat with him, but with every interaction you couldn't help but think about how attractive and sweet he was. Nanami could make you smile with his simple presence and make you sigh when he left the cafe. You wished you could get closer to him but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable, so you just admired him drinking his coffee and eating peacefully from the cash register. 

You were closing up the shop at the end of a busy day when you heard someone try to force open the front door that you had already locked . It was Nanami. You quickly get to it to open it. To your surprise, he looked extremely exhausted, almost defeated. Your heart broke seeing him in that state for the first time. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was already 8," He apologized in a low voice while looking at his expensive watch. 

"Please come in, Nanami. You are always invited here," you told him to encourage him to get in so you could treat him to a cup of coffee. He hesitated coming in thinking he would be abusing your kindness, but decided to let you treat him because you already opened the door for him. 

You served him a cup of americano and a slice of carrot cake. You decided to take a seat with your respective cup as well since you weren't working now. This time you weren’t serving a customer, you were catching up with a friend. 

"Are you okay?," you worried about his physical condition. 

"I hate my job, I really hate it," he snorted before picking up his cup. Your great coffee really improved his day in ways you had no idea.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't tell you those things," He said, embarrassed for dumping his work problems on you. 

"It’s okay, please treat me like a friend," you tried to calm him down. 

"Complaining is a healthy habit. Sometimes you have to let out the negative in order to keep the positive," you explained, preparing yourself to be the ear Nanami needed in that moment of distress. 

He started complaining about his job and his terrible new boss who kept harassing him with endless amounts of paperwork. Then, he complained about how expensive everything is and how horrible the rental system is in Japan because of the “key money” issue. Then he started complaining about his mother's ridiculous requests. 

"I'm tired of the same bullshit. “Kento, you should settle down,” “Kento, there's a cute girl in my book club,” “Kento, this,” “Kento, that,” He commented, noticeably tired of the environment that surrounded him. You couldn't help but be surprised that he complained about him being single. 

"Are you single?," you asked, still surprised. Then you realized that maybe you shouldn't have asked him that, since it could be a very personal topic. 

"I mean, you are very handsome, have a good job and a nice personality. I didn't think you would have problems finding a partner," you explained why you asked. Nanami smiled when you called him handsome.

“Thanks. It's not that I can’t get dates. It’s because my work is eating me alive right now," he explained. You nodded understanding his complicated position. 

"Besides, I'm interested in someone right now," he said with a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. 

"Oh, really? I'm happy for you, Nanami! You always have good taste in desserts, you surely also have good taste in women," you said to lighten the conversation. You were happy for him, but inside you were jealous of that woman who had caught his attention. You wished you were her. 

"I still don't know if this person has a partner though," he said unsure. 

"Why don't you check her social media? Maybe you'll find your answer that way," you suggested before drinking your coffee. 

"That's a good idea," Nanami took out his cell phone from his jacket. 

"What is your Instagram account?" he asked you. You spit out the coffee the moment you realized what he was implying. Nanami had practically confessed to you.

He got to you quickly to help you clean yourself up when he noticed the reaction he had caused you. You started coughing because some of the coffee went to the opposite side of your throat. He quickly went to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. 

"I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have insinuated you that way," you shook your head once you stopped coughing. 

"Don't apologize, I just didn't expect you would be attracted to me," you couldn’t grasp the idea of Nanami liking you back. You felt like you were dreaming. 

"How can I not be attracted to you? You are the kindest, warmest and most beautiful  girl I have ever met. From the moment I saw you, my heart felt that you should be mine," he finally confessed something he had been holding back for several months. Your heart skipped a beat with love and you felt your body getting warm by his kind words. 

"I want you to be mine too," you sigh in love. You wanted to confess what you felt for him every time he walked through the door with his briefcase in hand, his blonde hair somewhat disheveled, and his elegant gray suit. You waited a really long time to tell him. 

Nanami did not hesitate to make your wish come true. He gently took you by the chin to direct you to his lips. It started as a sweet and affectionate smooch to show each other the love that was long hidden in your hearts. Kiss by kiss, it turned into a passionate kiss. 

Nanami was desperate to touch you and feel your body against his, but he didn't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. Also, it didn't help that the cafe had a large window that exposed your first romantic act to the street. Nanami held back, but he was very happy to finally have you to himself. 

Your hands traveled across his chest, making their way to his broad shoulders and down his back. His strong hands ran over your waist and back to bring you closer to him. Your bodies and minds were in perfect harmony. You were the ideal couple since that night. He loved you very much and you were not far behind.

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