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milkteahood · 6 months

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texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

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deadhands69 · 6 days

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A Fantasy with Nice Shoulders

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this

Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.

*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut

**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while

***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]

“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice.

You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week.

While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with.

“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”

Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.

You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.

Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help.

And you’ll be fine.

You think.

Or maybe you won’t be.

The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.

You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them.

Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes.

You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different.

You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”

That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.

Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.

Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.

You didn’t fucking ask for this.

Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it.

“What happened?”

Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”

Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.

“Are you that fucking stupid?”

“N-no we just thought-”

Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.

“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”

“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”

“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”

“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”

“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”

“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.

Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked. You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.

“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?

“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.

“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.

“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.

“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?”

“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-

“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”

Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.

“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.

“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”

“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry.

“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face.

Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.

Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.”

It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.

Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders.

Back to reality.

He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.

Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.

“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.

“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.

“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.

The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall.

Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.

Here it goes.

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”

“I need your help.”

“Whaddya need?”

“You.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.

“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.

He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you.

But when he’s right here with you.

When he leans in closer.

His lips barely brush against yours.

Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.

He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“Did I do somethin wrong?”

“No, I just didn't expect that.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.

“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.

Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.

He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.

But having you now? Like this?

“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?”

“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”

“No weirder than ever. Why?”

He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.

“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”

“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”

“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.”

“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?

Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.

Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.

Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.

One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.

He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”

Perfect.

Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter.

“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.

You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it.

Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”

Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.

“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.

Absolutely, you do.

A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair.

You’re almost there.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing) to control your breath.

Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.

“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.

Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.

Shoto inquires next, “are you sure, we read more and-”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.

“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles.

“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.

“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in.

How many people are out there??

“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.

You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.

Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.

Useful. Thanks Creati.

He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.

“Ready now?” he grins at you.

Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement.

His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.

“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.”

“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.

Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.

A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.

As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch.

“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.

“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.

You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.

He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.

“Again?” you ask.

“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.

“Almost.”

“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck.

In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you.

“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."

The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.

Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.

Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.

His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.

“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.

With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.

He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.

“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”

“Definitely”

Definitely better but

So.

Fucking.

Exhausted.

A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty. Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.

You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.

Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.

Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx

You check your phone.

[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls]

The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki.

You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?]

Katsuki [see you soon]

Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.

Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways.

Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!”

“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.

Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”

Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.

Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact.

Denki high-fives you.

Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.

Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.

Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.

Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt.

Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.

You [just looked in the mirror]

You [why didn’t you warn me???]

Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡]

[you have 8 new messages]

#bakugou katsuki #my hero academia smut #my hero academia imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha smut #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x y/n

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lavenderchqn · 19 days

Text

"TO PRACTICE FREEDOM"

synopsis — You're the biggest scaredy cat living amongst the people of Scions of Canopy. You try to get over your fear of heights... by trying out bungee jumping under the watchful eye of your partner. Let's just say... it doesn't go according to plan. pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — near death experience (falling from heights), minor character death, spoiler warnings for kinich's story and voicelines, ajaw is a lore accurate menace notes — I've had an idea for this as soon as we learned that Kinich has interest in extreme sports... reading his story felt weird (the longer I am in genshin fandom, the more stuff I predict right...)

The People of Huitztlan believe in the concept of absolute freedom. That’s why so many youngsters throw themselves into dangerous sports with a lack of safeguard measures. Perhaps having nothing securing a person allows them to experience said freedom.

To practice death is to practice freedom, after all.

“We’re here,” Kinich says, looking in your direction. He has held your hand ever since you started your trek up the higher regions of the Coatepec Mountain. “Do you want to take a break?”

“Y-Yeah… I need to… sit.” You slowly get down with the help of Kinich. Only after he signalises being opposite of you, do your eyes open.

Kinich has taken a sit too, still holding onto your hand. He’s slowly rubbing circles trying to ground you as best as possible.

Well… here you are — the biggest scaredy cat, who decided to try and work on your fear of heights by trying out bungee jumping. It’s quite ironic really. Not only are you a resident of Scions of the Canopy, which literally is suspended off the cliffs, but also in a relationship with a guy, whose second name could be ‘extreme sports’.

To say your mind felt pressure to get over it would be quite an understatement.

“We can still get down. Just say the word.” Kinich says, keeping his eyesight directly on you. Even if you had asked him to help you with your fears, he’d never force you to do so. Sure, it’d be pretty cool to share interests with a partner, but it should never come at the cost of their mental health.

You shake your head. You have to try. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think? Kinich will do everything in his power to keep you safe.

“I can do this.” You answer, taking a deep breath.

“Well then, chop chop SLOWPOKE!” Ajaw zooms right near your face, spooking you to bits. “Stop wasting MY precious time!”

“Just how loud can you be…” Kinich sighs, getting up to shoo Ajaw away. “Tone it down a notch, will you?”

The tiny saurian starts arguing with your partner, although you can easily tell it’s one-sided. No matter how much he would try, the most he could bring out of Kinich were insulting comebacks. Ajaw could try and rage the male in multiple ways… and yet, unfortunately for the dragon, your partner was too resilient to die from anger.

In the meantime of their dissing match, you slowly get up on your legs. Ajaw is right… You don’t want to waste Kinich’s time because you’re scared and worried. He takes notice of your sudden movement, once again getting close to you.

“Do you want to try now?” He asks, holding his hand out. These are obvious signs, that he will lead you step by step.

“Yeah… I think I’m ready.”

“Alright. Hold still. I’m going to put the climbing belt on you now.”

As he says, he does. Kinich does it slowly, explaining his movement every step of the way. You’re aware, he’s doing it to ease your mind… and it’s working well. In the blink of an eye, the sound of a snap-hook getting attached brings you back from a short daydreaming session.

“All done.” He takes another look at you, checking if the equipment is snug against your body while making sure it isn’t digging into your skin. “Can you move for me?”

“Yeah, sure!” You do a slow spin, followed by kneeling on one foot. “Although I can feel the harness… it’s not uncomfortable.”

“That's good.”

Once again, it’s another series of your partner explaining the next steps. All you need to do is find a point to connect your line to. He already connected the rope to your belt. The other end is currently sitting tightly in his hand.

“You’re not going to hold me when I jump?” You ask, growing worried.

“I know you’d feel more comfortable with me doing that,” Kinich starts answering, his eyes wandering for an anchor. “I don’t want to also fall down the second you jump.”

He even explains the physics behind it, ending his speech by saying it’s best you move further to look for a good place to jump from.

You’re walking next to Kinich, admiring the scenery. With the rope in his hands, you’re feeling much more comfortable. Although he’s trying to talk here and there… his eyes are still locked on finding a stable anchor.

Unfortunately for the both of you, an anchor is nowhere near. Curse you lunatics with no regard for their safety.

“So many jumping platforms, and yet not a singular anchor?” He questions, closing his eyes.

All of a sudden your eyes land on a ruffed pheasant that just landed on one of the platforms. You’ve never seen one so close! Without thinking about your safety, you start inching closer towards the bird.

Your steps are slow and cautious. The bird, a magnificent creature with iridescent plumage, seems utterly unaware of your presence. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, creating a mesmerising display of greens and oranges. An odd sense of calm wash over you, momentarily forgetting the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your insides.

"Careful," Kinich warns, his voice seeming distant as if muffled by the pounding of your heart.

The platform beneath your feet is uneven, its surface worn smooth by the countless jumps of those, who came before you. With no warning, Ajaw jumps from behind your shoulder, screaming right next to your ear. The bird, startled, flies away. You try to also get away when your foot catches on one of the loose boards. The world tilts violently, and suddenly, you're weightless.

A scream tears from your throat as you plummet downwards, the wind rushing past your ears, drowning out all other sounds. The landscape blurs into a mix of greens and browns, the ground below rushing up to meet you at an alarming speed. For a split second, your mind goes blank — pure terror seizing every thought, every instinct. You’re going to fall to your death.

Back on the hill, Kinich’s body goes numb for a second. He’s seen this happen once before. He cannot allow it to happen again. You’re not his drunkard gambling mess of a father, and he’s not his seven-year-old self. Kinich will save you, even if it’s the last thing he ever does.

The blood is pounding in his ears when he shifts all his weight to his legs. Only when he cannot feel any force trying to get him off the cliff, does he start pulling up. With a sharp tug, he jerks you backwards, the rope connected to the harness snapping taut. The force of the pull knocks the air out of your lungs, but it stops your descent abruptly. You swing wildly in the air, the ground still far below, the rope swaying and creaking with the strain of holding your weight.

Above, you can hear Kinich shouting your name, his voice frantic, barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. You cling to the rope, your hands shaking uncontrollably as the realisation of what just happened crashes over you. You almost fell to your death.

"Hold on!" Kinich yells, his voice breaking through the fog of panic in your mind. "I’ve got you, just hold on for me!"

Tears sting your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, every muscle in your body tensed and trembling. The rope holds firm, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, Kinich begins to pull you back up. Each inch feels like an eternity, but his strength and determination never waver.

As soon as your body reaches the ledge, Kinich grabs onto you, pulling you up with a force that nearly knocks you both off balance. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you collapse against him, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice unusually tight with emotion. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"

You shake your head, unable to speak, still trying to process the fact that you're alive, that you're safe. Kinich's arms tighten around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from any further harm.

"You're okay," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra. "You're okay, and I'm here. I'm right here."

For a long moment, you stay there, clinging to him as the fear slowly ebbs away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sense of relief. The world around you, once a blur of panic and chaos, begins to settle back into focus. The mountains, the sky, the distant sound of birds—all of it feels surreal as if you’ve been given a second chance to experience it. In your state, you don’t notice the glare Kinich is giving to his companion.

If looks could kill, Ajaw would be dead.

After a while of sitting idly, Kinich pulls back slightly, enough to look into your eyes. His face is pale, his expression filled with concern, but there's also a deep, unspoken resolve in his gaze. It’s quite different considering the death stare he was giving the saurian just a second ago.

"We’re done here," he says gently but firmly. "No more extreme sports for today. We are getting you home.”

You nod, still too shaken to argue. As he helps you back onto solid ground, you realise how much you’ve relied on him, not just for safety, but for the courage to face your fears. And even though the experience was terrifying, there’s a small part of you that’s glad you tried, that you didn’t let fear win entirely. You can clearly say, you did indeed practice freedom today.

In a moment you’re seated on his back, Kinich deciding you’ve had enough walking for today. He’s in absolute control now — and he’s picking the safest route possible.

“Oh and Ajaw,” Kinich’s voice is laced with coldness. “Don’t think you’re getting away with the stunt you pulled today.”

"WHAT?!"

date of posting — september 5th 2024

#lavv.writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin oneshots #genshin fanfic #kinich x reader #kinich x you

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luludeluluramblings · 1 month

Text

Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Batfam

Part Six

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?”

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing.

“i’m talking to you.”

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder.

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble.

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he pulls closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne.

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions.

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer.

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.”

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t.

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment.

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth.

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face.

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there.

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says.

you slam the enter key on your computer.

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond.

“then come.” he grates.

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year.

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place.

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time.

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate.

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond.

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds.

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.”

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off.

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm.

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond.

“hilarious.” he deadpans.

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.”

“no one.”

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in.

“wow. did hell freeze over?”

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds.

you shrug.

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.”

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance.

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.”

you smile.

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.”

you give him a sly look.

“worried about me?”

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.”

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you.

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole.

you swing the door open.

“right. hi.”

you pause.

“megumi, right?”

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.”

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose.

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?”

“same as last time.”

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut.

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer.

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself.

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air.

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face.

“y/n.” he whispers.

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach.

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter.

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him.

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles.

you feel your cheeks burn.

“don’t call me that.”

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?”

you scoff.

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean.

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.”

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck.

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose.

“why’d you fight with him this time?”

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours.

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.”

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?”

sukuna scoffs.

“he was running his mouth.”

your curiosity has piqued.

“about?”

“you.” sukuna slurs.

you smile.

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist.

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.”

“sukuna.” you warn.

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds.

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile.

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.”

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room.

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around.

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax.

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside.

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds.

“help.”

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers.

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside.

“too hot.”

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond.

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare.

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines.

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants.

“what?”

“the button. i can’t…”

you feel your throat dry.

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.”

“just fucking help me.”

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up.

“wh-”

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks.

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds.

“how else am i supposed to see it?”

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing.

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace.

“stay.” he whispers.

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.”

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.”

you shake your head.

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers.

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –”

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone.

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers.

you laugh.

“so do you.”

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face.

“you’re drunk.”

sukuna pauses.

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

you shake your head.

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.”

“just stay with me.”

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers.

“please. don’t leave me alone.”

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.”

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you.

“jesus fuck.”

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did.

“oh god.”

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states.

you widen your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night.

“give me permission.” sukuna asks.

“you…”

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..”

“marie?”

“is that her name?” sukuna asks.

you bite down on your cheek.

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.”

“you got what?”

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin.

“give me permission.”

“you’ve already kissed me twice.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“cmon. i need to hear it.”

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –”

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek.

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose.

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur.

sukuna pauses, before leaning in.

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

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whatswrongwithblue · 5 months

Text

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons

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firemenenthusiast · 5 months

Note

"WAIT THIS IS- WAIT we should get farleigh to fuck reader thinking he’ll get anything he wants, the whole sexgod privilege just cuz youre the one who asked for it but when hes about to cum you go “oh no no”. but farleigh turns into goo under your orders so"

OK SO I HAVE AN IDEA!! their academic rivals and have a bet going on that he gets to fuck you if he got a higher score on a test or smth?!?!? IDK I JUST HAVE A THING FOR ENEMIES FUCKING 😞😞 SUE ME

the day hath come. thank you for your request anon ! <3

—“me or you”

academic rival! farleigh start! x fem!reader

summary: when farleigh decided that your rivalry isn’t fun enough for him, he proposes a deal

warnings: 18+, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, smut in the second half of it, sub!farleigh, porn with plot, unprotected p in v (wrap it guys), sub! farleigh, soft dom! reader, size kink, whiny whimpery farleigh, praise kink, cunnilingus, blow job, teabagging, creampie, plot twist and fluff at the end

a/n: sorry if i took too long, enjoy !

academic validation is everything to you. you believe you’re nothing if not an overachiever. but for farleigh, it’s just an excuse for him to be contemptous towards you. everyone else in the class is obviously displeased with your feud with him, but it’s mostly just farleigh spewing vulgar insults at you. that’s just how he presents himself. you could go and ask around the campus about him-

most would comment on his attitude that he thinks he could get away with- just because he’s smart. academically smart. no one knows how he does it. its not like he spends his afternoons in the library or catching up on his studies in his free time. hell, he does the exact opposite of those things. the term party animal is a downgrade for him. the owner of the nearest pub knows him. the most elite parties on campus are known to be thrown by him.

weirdly enough, when it comes to tests and exams, he excels them like nobody else. whatever he has to do for the class doesn’t faze him. you’re pretty confident that he doesn’t even study yet somehow, he’s at the top of his class. you on the other hand, put a lot of effort to achieve your exceptionally high scores. seeing farleigh being absent for most of his class pains you, it reminds you of how bad you have to struggle while he get to trash himself. enjoy the uni life. what irks you even more is the fact that everytime he scores higher than you, he’ll make sure to flaunt it all over your face. every single time. you roll your eyes when you spot the dark curly headed figure towering almost everyone across the hall, a couple books in his hand. how pretentious. it’s not like he even reads them.

flashing a quick smirk towards you, he swiftly skips to get in front to hold the lecture hall door open. he gave everyone else before you a small smile, trying to convince them of the pure intention of his nice little gesture. “goodluck guys” his head tilted upwards for a bit, nodding at each of the students. you cant help but crack a little smile watching the boy. as you were about to step into the hall, he swings the door closed behind him.

“what the fuck ?” you blurt out, head tilted trying to look at him. “goodluck” he grins, eyebrows raised with a smug look on his face. “for the test” he continues. “for what else dumbass?” insufferable, you think. he winces mockingly at your words

the test. the one that is particularly of the toughest subject out of your course. one that you had studied your ass off for. one that farleigh couldn’t give a single fuck about and still gonna ace it. gifted son of a bitch. and you’re gonna have to sit through him making fun of you for the 2 marks difference. it’s been like this for a couple semesters now. you struggling to keep your scores high, while farleigh tease you about it. just because you give him a challenge for the top position everytime there’s a test. the first semester of the course, he scored the best in the class for the first assessment. that gave him extra unneeded ego for the next couple weeks until you beat him in other tests after. he’d acknowledged you since. he loves a pretty face that challenges him.

“yes whatever farleigh now move” you try to pay no attention to him, reaching out to pull the door yourself. he quickly adjusts his stance against the door “okay! okay-”his arms reach out to his sides, protecting the entrance.

“-i have a proposition for you”

“i dont have time for this farleigh” you really dont, the tests starting anytime now.

“hear me out first”. one of his arm is held up to convince you. you sigh, the most uninterested expression staring back at him. “you know how you always excel these tests and i always do better than you-?”. “if youre keeping me here just to ridicule me save it for after the test” you begin to move before he continues

“—so you admit i always do better ? i mean, who’s keeping the score anyways” he chuckles. your patience is getting thin. before you could move again he steps closer, towering over you. hot breath fanning over your face as he grabs your arm.

“why dont we make it more fun ?” he begins, emphasizing the last part, almost whispering into your ear. “if you score better, you get all the bragging rights and mocking pass until the next test” you begin to soften your expression, intrigued. you look up at him, eyes searching into his. he stares into you before leaning down to continue

“—and if i score better, i get to fuck you”

you ball your palms into fists at his stupid idea before shoving him to the side and storming into the lecture hall. your jaws clenching with your lips pursed shut. he’s getting out of hand if he thinks you’re just another bet felix can set him up upon. you hear him follow you before he settles in a seat rows away from you. you glance at him to see he’s already looking at you, grinning.

as you’re finishing up the final answers and re-checking the paper you’re brought back to farleigh’s proposition earlier. somehow you’re fueled with a newfound confidence that you’re gonna beat him. the test wasn’t that bad, you studied and all and there wasn’t any questions that you didn’t answer confidently. suddenly those bragging rights sound tempting. usually when you score higher than him you’d just keep it to yourself cuz whenever you do try to belittle him how he does you, he’s quicker with sharp insults that leaves you dumbfounded. a classmate once tried standing up for you after one of his rude remarks and got a disgusted look from him in return. his exact words were “who are you again ?” so you decided long ago not to indulge in his childish behaviour. but you’re getting sick of him. at this point you’d do anything to shut the raging ego of his. even if it means risking yourself

the loud sound of papers rustling and the creaking of the hall’s seats marks the end of the test, everyone’s getting up and walking towards the exit. you found yourself pushed into a corner by the crowd that seems to be chasing a leaving train. there’s no opening for you to squeeze yourself in so you decide to wait until they’re all gone. suddenly the crowd stopped and you feel a hand pulling you forward, safely getting you out of the exit with his body close behind yours. he brings you further to the nearest turn, making sure you’re out of the crowd. you look up at him, knowing it was him. you shoot him a serious look before saying,

“deal”

“wait-“ he scoffs in disbelief “really ?” he has a whole confused, disbelief look on his face. “yeah, there’s no way you’re gonna score higher, you’ve been doing what, coke all week ?” you say. “true, but i’ll come by. i always do” he shrugs before saying, “no take backs” you give him a small smile before starting to walk away. “you should smile more baby !” you hear him say from afar. his usual smug look entering your mind

the rest of next week is filled with him trying to get you flustered and nervous waiting for the result. there’s no actual reason for you to be this nervous, he’s got no chance against you this time. every class with him feels a lot longer than usual as he teases you about the deal every chance he could. telling jokes that centers you being smarter than him to the whole class got you rethinking about your decision. while you’re confident, he seems to be composed. in the class of the subject you guys had the test for, there’s a time when the professor brought up that the paper will be returned next week and you cant help but glance at farleigh. he smiles before bringing up a peace sign to his mouth, his tongue darting forward between his fingers before moving it in a licking motion. he chuckles at your reaction as you roll your eyes

your professor offers a smile to your classmate reaching her hand out to take the paper from him. “good job, keep it up” he steps down from the last flight of stairs with his hands clasped together. “congratulations to all of you regardless of your scores, theres still time and room for improvement so keep your chin up” he positively encouraged before dismissing the class. you look down at the paper in your hands, a proud smile forcing itself onto your lips as you beam at the circled number in red at the top of it. a whopping 98 for the toughest subject you’ve ever took. satisfied is the least you’re feeling right now as the familiar busy sound of students getting ready to hit the exit floods your ears, you hear the professor calling a name. “farleigh ? please see me after class” your eyebrows furrowed seeing him mouth a “yea” while picking up his books. thats the most plain you’ve ever seen him. no smug look thrown towards you either.

from his expressions you could assume that maybe he’s dissatisfied with his score but just how bad can it be ? knowing him he could’ve taken the test drunk and still be able to score atleast an A. your eyes follow him walking towards the exit, his messenger hanging low against his hips. you were waiting for some officialization from him, saying that you won, and that you get to mock him all you want yet you’re left with nothing. i mean, you certainly won right ? he could only beat you if he scored 99 or a 100. maybe you’ll try him tomorrow.

rubbing your eyebrows, your eyes scan the lesson material that you had just printed out for today. words stacked above another forming a paragraph that you’re hoping to find the point of. sound of footsteps entering fills the class when you feel someone tapping at the back of your seat. you turn your head back and to the front again to see farleigh walking past slowly to say, “your clock starts now nerd, next tests on the second week next month” as he points his finger at you

“heard you got a new daddy farleigh, got him to up your score ?” you’re near yelling at him who’s getting away. he pays you no attention as he flips you off. a smile appears on your face. no nasty remarks in return. so it begins. for the rest of the class you get to shut his sarcastic jokes with your own. the class is suprised to say the least that farleigh is the receiving end now. something must’ve happened they think, and most have their money on that you guys fucked. you shrug at your efforts on utitilising the mockery pass. you’d manage to catch him after class just to offer him another teasing “you know i can tutor you if you want. a one on one so maybe you can retire from being a boytoy” you beam at him. he gives you an unamused look, lips shut to hold himself from shooting a response to the joke. “maybe you should” he says, raising both his arms to quickly drop them before turning his heels and walking away. you watch him strut down the hall with a grin plastered across your face. until something hits you that the grin slowly wears off. you feel empty that he’s not shooting sarcasms back at you. you get it that this will only last until the next test and it’s part of the deal but you cant help feeling like, ‘this is it ?’. suddenly a part of you think that it would be better if he responded back. you’re used to that. you want him to banter.

so when you end up standing infront of his door you have no one else to blame but yourself.

you had asked students around the dorm halls and they all pointed to this door. sighing, you try to justify yourself for whats about to happen. “what are you doing here ?” you lower the knuckles that were about to knock, heels automatically turning to the source of the voice. he quirks an eyebrow at seeing you infront of his dorm. unfamiliar with the image cuz he’s never seen you around the building. “what are YOU doing here” youre quick to answer before realising how stupid it is. “i kinda need to be here. i live in the room just behind you” you scoff at his answer. he squints his eyes before saying, “wow, youre determined”.

“what ?”

“you came all the way here to brag about the test ?—”

“no” you stop him before continuing, “its weird that you didnt return any of my insults today” you begin. he slows down his steps, pacing around before stopping infront of you. he examines the knitted material of your cardigan, his eyes trailing to find yours. “well for one, they’re mediocre at best-“ you scoff before lightly shoving him, “fuck you”. he shrugs, eyes wandering across the hall before continuing, “—and its part of the deal sweetheart” you look down at your shoes, nodding slightly. exactly, that was the deal, you admit to yourself, ignoring the pet name. you take a deep breath as he runs his hand across the back of his neck, carefully adjusting the stray curls at the side of his head. “well if you dont have anything else, im just gonna-“ his hand moves to the side of you to grab the doorknob.

you look up at him, searching into his eyes before he notices. “unless youre here for that tutoring-“ you grab at the fabric on his chest, pulling him against you before crashing your lips onto his dark red ones. kissing at his bottom lip, he returns the kiss deeper, nose bumping against each other. he pulls away slightly, puffing hot breath before pulling you closer by your lower back. his forehead rests against yours as his mouth chases your lips, returning a deeper and more eager kiss. his hands resting low at your hips as his impatient kiss pushes you back against the door. you pull away for a moment to catch your breath when a small whine escapes his lips, his eyes still closed. he’s leaning forward trying to catch your lips to which you lean into once more. his hand move from your waist to the doorknob, twisting it before catching you from falling backwards. next thing you know you’re placed on his strangely clear study with him leaving sloppy kisses down your stomach, moving towards your clothed pussy. your cardigan and shorts lying on the floor

he looks at you through his long lashes, his large hands sprawled over your hips, smoothing over the skin. “may i ?” you nearly moan at his low voice. you nod as he mouths at your clothed cunt, nose nudging against your clit, panties almost transluscent with your wetness. you let out a breathy moan as he peppers small kisses all over the thighs caging him, slowly biting at the skin. he trails kisses until he reaches where you want him the most before pushing your panties to the side. his breath hitched as he does so, timidly licking your wet folds to have a taste. you hear him moan, your hands running through his hair to pull back the parts covering his face so you can watch him sucking at your sex. his eyes shut close savouring your taste as you hear him mumble against your folds, sending shivers down your spine. “mhm- s’good…so pretty” his hands roam from the low of your back to your stomach before trailing down to rub your clit. he pulls away for a moment to run his thumb between your folds, eyes dark as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. his bottom lip between his teeth. he dives back in with half lidded eyes before laying his tongue flat against your folds. you let out a small moan as you pull at his hair, earning a groan from him. you could feel the knot in your lower stomach getting tighter.

you push him from your pussy before getting off of his study. he follows you, getting up from the floor, cock painfully hard in his sweats forming a tent with a dark patch at the top. you curse in your head seeing the view before pushing him down onto his bed. he scoots back to lean against the wall as you climb onto his lap, pulling your shirt off you. his eyes trail downwards to look at your hardened nipples, his eyes darkened with a full blown lust before reaching up to knead at them. he kisses your nipples before putting them in his hot mouth at which you arch your back slightly, your hands pushing him forwards from the back of his head. you start to grind at his hard clothed cock as you feel the wet patch you saw earlier. he moans loudly at you grinding down especially harder on the base of his cock, sitting on his balls. steadying yourself, you grab his shoulders as you lean in to nip at his earlobes. his hand moves to grab at your hips as you rub your wet panties against his bulge while kissing at his neck, slightly biting and sucking at the skin, leaving marks. he whimpers with a slight pout when you start to slow down

“please,,”

“please what farleigh ?”

“anything- fuck! please,, take it off”

you smile at his pleas, continuing to grind on his cock, the wet patch at his tip getting bigger, spreading to the base of his cock. you arch your back slightly while moving, placing your tits at his mouth which he latches on obediently. his cock twitches as he bucks his hips upwards from the pressure. he pulls away to rest his head on your chest, head tilted downwards to watch your pussy getting his sweats wetter before throwing his head back with a long moan. “feels- feel so good- wan’ you faster” he starts stuttering words between begging you to go faster and to go slower, confused to decide what he actually wants. “does this feel good farleigh ?” you grind faster as he nods rapidly in return “dont stop- fuck, please dont stop” you could feel his cock jumping slightly and twitching, threatening to spill his load in his pants before you do just what he tells you not to. “no- baby,,” he throws his head back, strained whimper escapes his lips in defeat as you giggle. his knee buckles up involuntarily. you get off his lap, removing his hands from your hips to settle on the floor, tits pressed against the edge of the bed.

you look up at him who has the back of his hand pressed against his forehead as you graze your fingers on the outline of his cock, now completely wet with his precum and your wetness. your touches making him buck his hips, his eyes shut close as he throws his head back. you pull at his waistband slowly, pressing it down so it grazes along his achingly hard cock, earning a wince from him. “slow- slower, please,,” his hand reach yours trying to get you to be careful. you nod at him giving him what he wants, not wanting him to cum just yet. as soon as the waistband’s off his thick hard cock springs upwards, slapping his lower stomach. he’s thick, and it curves slightly upwards. placing your hand at the base, you’re suprised to see the size of him. batting your lashes at him with his cock in your hand, he gives you a smug smile

“big?”

“—average” you respond, receiving a chuckle from him

he’s the biggest you’ve had.

you swipe your thumb across his tip, collecting the precum to spread on his cock. switching hands, you begin to pump his length, your fingers barely closing around his cock. you reach down your panties with your free hand to collect your wetness before using it as lube to stroke his cock. “fuck that’s so hot-” you hear him say before letting out a loud moan when you suddenly start sucking at his tip. maintaining eye contact through your lashes, you make sure to make him watch you lay your tongue flat at the base of his length, slowly dragging it upwards. you have both your hands and your mouth working on the aching tip, slobbering his cock with your wetness, saliva and precum. stroking his cock at a steady pace you adjust your position to arch downwards, your mouth leaning into the base of his cock to lick under his balls. “ah— fuck-! mhm“ his hand fisting the sheets under him, chest heaving breathlessly. he let out a whine when you put his balls into your mouth, the warmth sending him into pure bliss. sucking at the skin, you make sure to twist at his raging red tip as you do so. you pull off with a pop to collect saliva in your mouth before spitting on his balls. just as the spit starting to trickle down you catch it with your mouth to bring it to his length. he tries to contain his moan by pursing his lips yet a weak whimper leaves his lips. he shoots you a puppy look as you continue sucking him off. you can feel his already tight balls getting tighter as his cock jumps against his lower stomach. he’s painfully hard to the point that one more lick and he’ll be cumming.

so you stop working on his cock to get on your feet. his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill down his tinted cheeks. his pretty long lashes wet from the tears pooling in his eyes, making them glossy. he looks up at you, your knees pressing against his bed before you climb onto him, your hands reaching his face to cup his cheeks. the tears in his eyes that were threatening to fall trickles down as you wipe them with your thumb. “you wanna cum farleigh ?” you ask. “yes please” “you dont look it” he blinks to clear his eyes from tears, “i want to, please- let me cum please” his hands slowly creep up your body to pull you close in his embrace. his eyes pleads into yours before you pull his head towards you letting him rest on your breast. “okay” you promise. he takes the chance to mouth at your tits. throwing your head back, you feel him suck at one of your nipple and squeezing the other with his large hand making you moan. you pull at his hair to look at him, he offers you a soft smile. probably too delirious from the pleasure to even think.

you pull him off you to quickly get off the bed, taking off your wet panties before climbing back holding it. you lean down to kiss him, his head tilted upwards to return your kiss. his sucks at your tongue until he feels your lips being replaced by a wet fabric. he moans realising that you had stuffed his mouth with your panties, aiming the wet patch directly onto his tongue before kissing the top of his head. he always has his free hands to take out the panties if he wants to. he looks down at his hard weeping cock just inches away from your pussy. he buckles his hips forward in a pathetic attempt to rub his cock against your pussy. you giggle at his action before steadying your hands on hus shoulder, looking down as you lower yourself on his cock, rubbing the tip against your clit and the length between your folds. you hear him make some mumbled sound before you pull out the panties from his mouth. strings of saliva connected to the fabric as he puffs out, catching his breath.

“just fuck me,, cant anymore-“

“you cant ?” he shakes his head

“but i thought you’re the mighty farleigh start ?” you tease him. he swallows his saliva at your words.

“not with you, no- please, just make me cum baby” the tip of his nose dusted red, his lips swollen and redder than ever. his eyes glossy with some of the remaining tears at the corner of his eyes, searching into yours as he pleads

you finally give in, grabbing his cock to position it at your sex earning a loud guttural moan from him. you let out a high pitched whine from the stretch, the slide of his cock into your pussy easy thanks to all the wetness from before. you move back and forth, grinding your clit against his pelvis before starting to ride his cock. he bites his bottom lip watching you bounce on his length, fucking yourself. the pace of your hips steady with his hands grabbing at them to guide you. farleigh throws his head back from the pleasure, his mouth hanging agape. you feel the knot in your lower stomach getting tighter, feeling waves threatening to crash down. “you close ?” he asks as he feels your pussy clench around him making it harder for him to hold back. you nod at him, trying to focus on chasing your orgasm. you feel him suddenly buckle his hips into you before you let out a high pitched moan, screaming his name. he helps you ride out your high before you hear a string of curses falling from his lips, his thrust getting sloppy. “inside, farleigh”. he looks at you to make sure he heard you right as you nod at him. you let him move your hips as he wants, using you like a fleshlight before you hear him let out a loud moan. “ah-ahh—! fuck, fuck, fuck- fuuuck,,”. the curses falling from his lips gets dragged out as you feel warm ropes of thick cum shooting inside your pussy, hitting your cervix.

he struggles to catch his breath as he carefully gets you off his lap, placing your head on his pillow before joining you. sighing, his eyes blown wife while looking up at the ceiling. he props himself on his elbow to look at you, admiring your glow. you cant help but slowly let out a laugh at what the two of you just did. he shakes his head low, also laughing before leaning down to kiss you. the kiss is more passionate and sensual, unlike before. he crawls down to look at your pussy, his cum trickling down to his sheets before he wastes no time collecting and pushing them back into you. “all good” he informs before climbing back to lie beside you as you two finish catching your breaths.

you look around, scanning his room before turning your head to look at his bedside table. you notice a familiar paper, slightly crumpled. propping yourself on your elbow, you take a closer look at it. it’s the test that makes your deal, with a circled score in red at the top of it. a 62. you quickly turn to him, he’s already looking at you, a cig in his hand and a lighter in another, ready to light it. he looks at the paper in your hand and raises his eyebrow

“what ?”

“a 62, farleigh ? seriously ?”

“yeah i purposely put the wrong answers, atleast for some part of it”

he answers you, unbothered. he purses his lips around the cig, almost lighting it as he notices that you’re still waiting for some sort of explanation. he sighs before letting his head fall back onto the pillow

“i wanted you to win” he admits. your eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused

“so you can atleast see some good in me, when im not bullying you” to which you respond,

“you could’ve just stop insulting me like a normal person”

“but then everyone will realise that i was falling for you”

your face softens at his words. his eyes roam across the ceiling, trying to avoid your eyes before he continues, “—everyone knows i dont just ‘fall’ for people” you search his face for some sort of indicator that he’s trolling you but to no avail. you both sit in silence for a moment before you lean in to kiss him. his hands reach up to your face, pushing the hair covering the side of your face away. your hand reach up to cup his face, deepening the kiss. you pull away smiling at him to which he rolls his eyes playfully.“great now you have something to tease me about”. “i like you too farleigh” you quickly cut him. he cant help the smile creeping on his face. you both continue to sit in silence drinking in each others presence.

“study date ?” you suggest

“i dont study, sweetheart”

taglist: @june-ebgert @radioloom @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @themoonchildwhofell @love-me-pls

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httpsserene · 4 months

Text

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑

welcome to the table of contents for my two-thousand followers special !

i am actually shocked that i reached this milestone, considering my writing managed to convince people to follow me even though i have not been active on this account. you all bolstered me to 2k through two hiatus' that i did not announce, and that i do sincerely apologize for. the next time i plan to disappear off the face of tumblr, i'll give you guys a heads up: no more ghosting :) but seriously, thank you guys for the never ending support, and i will make sure i return the gratitude by being more present on tumblr, and writing more often!

as previously requested and mentioned, this special event is the daniel ricciardo edition. i believe a majority of you wanted a part-two of the overstimulation with daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x black!reader from my f1 kinktober series, which will be included in this special. i also promised a few dr3 fics to some of you that requested--so all in all, all of the daniel ricciardo thirst that YOU ALL requested is listed below the cut. i hope this is enough of a peace offering, and i hope you all enjoy xxx

if you would like to be added to this special's taglist, send me an ask or leave a reply. all episode upload times are at 12 PM EST on their release date. posts tagged as # httpss :// 2k special. all works can be found in my table of contents (m.list).

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: it's his one-man show. you ask for danny ric, and he will always over-deliver. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: daniel ricciardo x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: assorted oneshots.

view playlist? ↴

Pilot: Over-Stimulation Kink w/ Daniel Ricciardo & Max Verstappen

You can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. You understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. And then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

Episode Two: Say, "Cheese!" | facial | 5/31/24

The day she gets her braces off will be the best day of her life. Maybe all the years she dealt with insults, underhanded compliments, and men who wouldn’t date her because of them, would be worth it when she sees her perfectly straight teeth. Of course, it sucks that she has insecurities stemming from her braces; her boyfriend, Daniel, says that they “add to her beauty.” If she believed him, she probably wouldn’t hide her mouth behind her hand when she grins or laughs. Don’t worry—Daniel has an idea of how to make that smile of hers…shine.

requested! insecure!reader. soft!dom daniel. oral sex (male receiving). serene's fave.

Episode Three: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss | fake orgasm | 6/5/24

When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress.

requested! servicedom!daniel. vaginal sex. hurt/comfort. attempt at humor.

Episode Four: Tomorrow 2 | body worship | 6/7/24

She’s the least favorite Formula One WAG. At first, she was optimistic, the fans would eventually start liking her—but that was a pretty naive thought. She’s constantly compared to Daniel’s ex-girlfriend—she’s not as pretty as her, she’s not as supportive as her, etc. Unfortunately, in a moment of low self-esteem—she breaks and thinks maybe the fans are right. Daniel comes home and sees you gathering every belonging of yours that’s migrated to his apartment like you’re breaking up with him. He tries to change your mind with his words, but that doesn’t quite reassure you completely; so he has no choice but to do it with his actions, too.

requested! insecure!reader. light angst. multiple orgasms. manhandling.

Episode Five: TSA | soft yandere | 6/13/24

She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes she never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of one) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of.

requested! possessive!reader. mild angst. happy ending. morally grey.

Finale: K.O. ! | over-stimulation | 6/25/24

Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine. As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.

requested! part-two of the pilot fic. multiple orgasms. polyamory. bondage.

current taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris @xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @vetteltea @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless

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jaeyunverse · 1 year

Text

the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?”

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!”

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression.

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?”

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.”

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?”

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.”

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived.

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill.

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras.

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up.

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you.

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you.

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults.

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to.

And damn, they were right.

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware.

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self.

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see.

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails.

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date.

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed.

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory.

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind.

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you.

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.”

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.”

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.”

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.”

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him.

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it.

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.”

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet.

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake.

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?”

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.”

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.”

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.”

“What do they mean?”

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.”

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!”

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.”

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!”

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.”

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.”

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.”

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.”

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.”

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.”

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.”

“Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?”

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily.

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.”

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided.

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded.

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court.

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.”

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.”

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.”

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses.

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?”

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.”

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.”

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?”

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting.

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you.

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it.

You never meant it.

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!”

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics.

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.”

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.”

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.”

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you.

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.”

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you.

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car.

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes.

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.”

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace.

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe.

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.”

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow.

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it.

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to.

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!”

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?”

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.”

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat.

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure.

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.”

“You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!”

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.”

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore.

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped.

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?”

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions.

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word.

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws.

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers.

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing.

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture.

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time.

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him.

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.”

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!”

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?”

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.”

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour.

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being.

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?”

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?”

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor.

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw.

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it.

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did.

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself.

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—”

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said.

“W—what?” he croaked.

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.”

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts.

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him.

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth.

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck.

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his.

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape.

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder.

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before.

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully.

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth.

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.”

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going.

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway.

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.”

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.”

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath.

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again.

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.”

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks.

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated.

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.”

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!”

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.”

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!”

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.”

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?”

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek.

“Love.”

3K notes · View notes

murdockparker · 6 months

Text

Expectations

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs. Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is not pregnant, reader does not wish to be a mother, illusions to sex but no smut, drinking and drunkenness, fluffy fluff

A/N: Given the setting and time period, not wanting children is rather taboo, I feel. But not everyone wishes to be a mom and that's okay! I hope I did Benedict (and reader!!) justice!

On a far too quiet night in London, candles were beginning to grow short, along with the patience of a newly made missus.

“Must I go tomorrow?” (Y/N) sighed, turning to face her husband in earnest, placing her hairbrush on the vanity.

“And possibly insult Lady Danbury again this season?” Benedict scoffed, looking up from his sketchbook. He had been making good on his earlier promise of the eve, giving his wife a worthwhile portrait. He had already made countless, of course, but this one was to be the best yet. “Darling you cannot keep avoiding her forever."

“Here I thought that was a Bridgerton specialty,” (Y/N) hummed, turning back to her mirror, keen to note Benedict’s crooked smirk in the reflection. “But if you insist that I cut our honeymoon short—”

“You know better than I that our honeymoon is well and over,” Benedict said, suddenly at his wife’s side, hands growing restless on her shoulders. “As much as it pains me to admit, and it does, truly, the rest of the ton is far too eager to make the newest Mrs. Bridgertons acquaintance.”

Kisses were peppered down her neck, just below her ear, warm and sticky enough to halt her thinking. “Life was much easier in the country,” she reminisced fondly. The lady was unsure if the fact her husband was making dutiful work on her skin was clouding her judgment, but her mind yearned for the weeks they had spent in bed, alone and carefree. “No need for this… fodder.”

“Ah to be a woman in the season,” Benedict jested, brushing her hair aside. “But I do think it’s a right idea to go to the soiree. If it makes you feel better, I do believe the duchess is planning to attend.”

(Y/N) groaned, pushing Benedict away. “Just as you begin to seduce your wife you find it fair to mention your younger sister?”

He could only laugh. “I was unaware I was seducing my wife, I merely thought I was helping with her hair.”

“And the fine work on my neck was helpful... how?”

His fingers brushed through her hair again, slowly, deliberately. “Well, considering I was partially to blame for it’s unruliness, I figured I could only offer my services. I fear it came across as unhelpful.”

She fought back a grin. “I will go to Lady Danbury’s soiree,” (Y/N) said, looking Benedict in the eyes through the mirror. “But only if you promise to assist with the rest of my… hair.”

“What kind of a husband would I be if I refused?”

—

The carriage ride was as uneventful as she could have imagined. Not only did she loathe the rocking of the cab, but to not have Benedict’s company across from her—or under her—made the entire ordeal less appealing. Still, she persisted through the boredom and arrived to Danbury House, fashionably on time.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury greeted, flicking her cane towards the not-so-new bride. “How lovely you managed to pry yourself from your cottage in the country and rejoin proper society.”

“Lady Danbury,” (Y/N) bowed, smiling as politely as she could. “You think little of me, I would never dare to miss one of your illustrious eves. My mother always spoke fondly of them—as truthful as she decided to be with me, that is.”

“A shame your mother isn’t joining us, those nasty headaches of hers will surely do her in.”

“Father sent for a tea from France,” (Y/N) recalled from her last correspondence with her parents. “I believe it was a recommendation from you, if I am not mistaken?”

“Your parents would do well from listening to me from time to time, I should hope you take the same advice,” Lady Danbury smiled, looking directly at (Y/N), gaze narrowing. “Do enjoy yourself tonight, dear. One tends to forget oneself whilst in a marriage.”

A footman ushered her into the great hall, handfuls of married women of the ton flocked to the walls, drinks already in hand. A few familiar faces flitted her memory as she walked past. Lady Green and Mrs. Harrison, both far too eager to set her up with their respective sons in the last season, smiled kindly as she nodded towards them. Dowager Countess Fairbanks was eagerly replacing her empty glass with another, the loss of Earl Fairbanks was still fresh in the public eye, it seemed. Then, there was Lady Kent, smoking away in the corner, grateful no men were around to stop such nonsense.

“Mrs. Bridgerton! I did not expect to see you here!”

(Y/N) turned to the cheery voice, belonging only to the Duchess Hastings herself.

“Your Grace,” (Y/N) smirked, addressing her sister-in-law properly.

“Daphne,” the duchess corrected, as she had many a time during (Y/N)’s courtship with Benedict. “I must say, I hardly think anyone expected your presence tonight. Surely my brother couldn’t have found it in himself to allow you to escape for the evening easily.”

“I shall spare you the sordid details of my trickery,” (Y/N) said with a murmur, her voice laced with a secret. “Considering they involve your brother and whatever little clothing he possessed.”

“Oh please,” Daphne waved. “You are married, I hardly think it is much to guess you and Benedict have been in such a state thus far.”

“If I may be so honest,” (Y/N) giggled, accepting a flute of a bubbly drink from a server, “he was the one who begged me to attend this evening. I was more of the mind to stay in and continue to enjoy our library here in London.”

“I did not know Benedict’s bachelor lodgings possessed a library.”

“They did not, which is why we purchased a new estate not too far from your Mama’s,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “‘Bachelor no more’, I believe were his exact words when he showed me the deed. It’s quite a lovely place. If I did not prefer the country so much I think I would like to stay here year-round.”

“I expect an invitation for tea sometime, then,” Daphne cooed, clearly overjoyed at her new sister’s happiness. “I assume there’s an adequate number of rooms?”

“Enough for a proper studio for Benedict’s leisure, a modest library for myself, an enchanting dining room and…” Her glass raised to her lips nervously. “I believe that to be all.”

“No nursery, then?”

“You Bridgertons and baby-rearing,” (Y/N) said, nearly sputtering her drink. “I say, you’re already on baby three, is that not correct?”

Daphne nearly radiated with joy at the mere mention of her children—a doting mother in every regard. “Oh yes, number three will be joining us in due time,” her hand grazing over her apparent bump. “But I believe you neglected to answer my question.”

“I think I am in need of far more drink to even entertain the question, dear sister,” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink, hoping the dim lighting did an adequate job hiding her growing flush.

“Very well,” Daphne conceded, still holding her small bump as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe Kate has begun in the game room if you wish to join me in finding her?”

“Spending my night with my darling new sisters? Without my husband or your brothers to muck up our conversations and vex us? I must say, that might be your best idea yet, Your Grace.

The duchess merely laughed as she led present company into the ballroom—now outfitted with many tables to accommodate the games of the night’s festivities. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the sheer sight of it all. Wives and widows alike, smoking and drinking over every inch of the transformed ballroom.

“I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to come to many of these things,” she shuddered in awe, leaning closer to Daphne.

“I haven’t,” Daphne said truthfully. “I’m usually back at Clyvedon with my family, it just so happens I’m in town on other business this go around to not ignore Lady Danbury.”

While it was difficult to get the Bridgertons all under one roof—with each new marriage and child that task became even more daunting—the brood did get together recently to celebrate the christening of both Edmund and Belinda. Anthony’s first and Daphne’s second. It wasn’t much of a shock that Daphne shared the news of a third Basset at the christening, either.

“Regardless,” (Y/N) took her place at a game table, sitting beside the duchess. “I’d much appreciate the evening to move swiftly, lest I spend more time away from home than I need.”

“Eager to get back in the bedroom with Benedict?”

The new Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate, spoke up behind the ladies as she took it upon herself to be seated next to her sisters.

“I was thinking more along the lines of his study,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling herself grow warm with honesty. “Perhaps our library? We do have a handful of new rooms to enjoy and christen, I think.”

“I recall making a similar promise to Anthony after our honeymoon,” Kate reminisced, smiling wickedly. “Makes me miss such a time in my marriage.”

“Miss a time?” (Y/N) laughed, accepting a drink from a roaming server. “You and Anthony only have been wed a bit over a year. Surely the flame has not died out?”

“No, no, not died out,” Kate quickly corrected. “It’s just, now with Edmund in our care, our flame has dimmed a bit—exhaustion keeps us both at bay to get at it like we once did.”

“Simon and I had a similar take after Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne chimed in.

“Yet here you are, awaiting your third child in three years,” Kate barked with laughter.

“As you said, sister,” Daphne sipped her lemonade, “it merely dimmed.”

If her face had blanched, the dim lighting of the game room had the entire part of disguising her discomfort at the idea—the mere idea that her want for Benedict could possibly wane.

“Dimmed,” (Y/N) repeated.

“Say, it’s been a few months since your wedding,” Kate noted, “do you and Benedict have plans for children soon? I expect with your new house a nursery is just begging to be filled.”

A polite laugh escaped her lips, humor long forgotten. “We haven’t much discussed the matter of children.”

“Oh, come off it!” Kate admonished. “Surely you and your husband want to aid in the Bridgerton grandchildren numbers? I recall Anthony mentioning an old wager between them on who would have the most children."

“A wager—you’re not serious?”

“Oh, that was merely a jest between brothers, I’m sure,” Daphne said, placing her steady hand on (Y/N)’s. Even in the candlelight, she could tell her newest sister-in-law was having no part in this conversation. “And knowing my brothers, it cannot be held to any regard.”

“Anthony seemed serious enough about it when I was carrying Edmund,” Kate shrugged. “No matter! We are here to play cards, yes?”

It was hard to pay attention to the game at hand—literally. With doubt and endless thoughts swimming through the new Mrs Bridgerton’s head, her glass never emptied and her mind never ceased. She won a sizable amount of money somehow—Daphne mumbled something along the lines of ‘rotten cards’ as she pushed the notes and coins to (Y/N)’s pot.

“You’re sure you do not wish to spend the night here?” Lady Danbury offered much later in the evening, just as nearly every guest had left. Only the Bridgerton ladies remained. “I can have a guest room made up in a blink.”

“Ben will be anxious for my arrival,” (Y/N) slurred, trying to remain upright. “I shan’t keep him waiting.”

“I thought we intercepted enough of her drinks,” Daphne whispered, words only meant for Kate.

“She must have snuck a few on her way to the chamberpot,” the viscountess realized, albeit a bit too late.

“I can handle my drinks just fine,” (Y/N) said, trying to cross her arms. It only took her two attempts. “Honestly, I just want to get home to my husband, thank you.”

“I will ride with her to her estate,” Daphne offered, already getting in (Y/N)’s carriage. “My carriage will follow close behind and I will retreat as soon as I see her enter her home safely.”

“What a good sister you are,” (Y/N) cooed, hand cupping Daphne’s face lovingly. “I wish I had a sister like you.”

“If you remember anything, let it be this, please just write to me in the morning,” Kate sighed, giving up hope on the cause. “Lest you want an angry visit from me tomorrow after you break your fast.”

“Get home safe,” (Y/N) listed, “write to Kate, do not make her angry. I think I got it.”

“Perhaps we should pin a note to her dress?” Lady Danbury laughed.

“I shall tell one of the maids to remind her,” Daphne said. “So she has no excuse.”

“You lot are being awfully nice to me,” (Y/N) said, stepping up into the carriage. The footmen were doing most of the work. “Nicer than I deserve right about now.”

“You’re family,” Kate said simply. “Besides, I reckon we have a part to play on just how much you’ve drank…”

“Quite,” Daphne nodded. (Y/N) began to look rather green. “Lady Danbury, I don’t suppose you have a pot or vase you don’t care much about?”

Wordlessly, a butler came running, holding a rather ornate bowl in his hands. After passing it off to the duchess, (Y/N) took it quickly and held it close to her head.

“Do make sure Mrs. Bridgerton cleans it thoroughly before returning it.”

—

The sunlight hurt.

In all of her years on this planet, the sunlight had never hurt as much as it did in this moment. A errant afternoon in the park, perhaps, leaving her skin a tad bit warm to the touch, but never did it sting like this.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Benedict sighed, walking over to her side of the bed. When had she gotten in bed?

“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) groaned, somehow managing to pull herself up to be seated. Her husband—doting as he was—had a tray of food and a pitcher of water waiting for her. “What’s this?”

“Charcoal,” Benedict tried his best to make it sound appetizing. By the look on his wife’s face, it had failed. “I had Cook mix it with some marmalade on bread to help with the taste. You need to sop up the booze somehow, love.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” (Y/N) lied, knowing full well she couldn’t fool even herself with it.

“I have never seen you in such a state,” Benedict nearly whispered, setting the silver tray on her lap. “I already sent correspondence to Daphne to thank her for insuring you got home safely.”

She took a hesitant bite of the bread. It wasn’t as awful as she imagined. Left much to be desired, sure, but it would do the job.

“I sent to Kate,” Benedict continued. “Told her you would meet her for tea later this week, as you obviously needed your sleep this morning.”

Another bite of the bread managed to go down before she reached for the glass of water in Benedict’s hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m still at a loss, however,” Benedict sighed. “What exactly went on at Danbury House?”

“I believe I need far more charcoal bread to entertain that conversation.”

“(Y/N).”

“It was a ladies night,” she chewed, trying her best to swallow her bite. “I cannot share what lewd gossip possibly came from it.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, beginning to wring his wrists mindlessly as he searched for the correct words to say. She hadn’t seen him do it since the day he proposed. Benedict Bridgerton was anxious.

“You said something, last night,” he finally confessed.

“I reckon I said a lot last night,” (Y/N) laughed lightly, polishing off her unfortunate breakfast.

“As I was trying to get you into bed, you kept mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense,” Benedict smirked lightly, “most of it made me laugh.”

“Glad to be a never-ending source of your entertainment.”

“You mentioned something about a baby.”

She didn’t dare look up at him.

“A few times, actually,” Benedict said. “Now, I don’t know what came of it, perhaps Daphne’s new addition sparked such an interest or you are with child now but—”

“But you wish for a baby,” (Y/N) finished for him, clasping her hands together. “Soon, yes?”

“What?”

“You purchased a new estate,” her hand motioned to their large bedchamber, “with various new rooms to fill with Bridgerton babies. A nursery already set up by our staff is only just down the hall. It’s only natural you expect that of me, given our honeymoon is over.”

“I bought our new home because my bachelor lodgings had nothing you loved,” Benedict corrected. “You yourself said you wished for an extensive library—I merely acted on those wishes.”

“Everyone expects us to have a baby soon,” (Y/N) groans, head in her hands. “All night I kept getting bombarded with questions and speculations about it! Most of it came from my very own family! Sure, I can handle a bit of gossiping from ladies who have nothing better to talk about, but my new family?”

“I had no idea—”

“It was the sole reason I had no desire to go last eve!” (Y/N) finally shouted, as if she meant to reach the heavens. “I know what is expected of me as a wife but what if—what if I don’t wish for that?”

“You do not wish for children?”

“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, maybe? Augh! I do not know!”

Benedict’s weight shifted on the bed, having now sat by his wife’s legs. “You do not need to know.”

“Of course I do,” she gasped. “I was raised for two things—to marry a respectable man and to have his respectable babies. One of those things I accomplished without much of a second thought—”

“I’m glad you thought so little about marrying me,” Benedict jested.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“It made you smile, so I think the comment was well worth it.”

It had made her smile, she realized. The near-permanent frown of the morning seemed to have eased away with her husband’s jest.

“Every time someone asked me about it,” (Y/N) finally admitted, “I found another drink to drown myself in. I don’t believe anyone but perhaps Daphne really saw what was happening.”

“Does the idea of children really cause you such anguish?”

“It’s just—we’re so happy now,” (Y/N) took Benedict’s hand in her own. “I don’t want to muck up the joy and elation we have in each other by bringing a baby into the mix so soon.”

“We never really spoke on the topic,” Benedict said. “In our courtship, I mean. Usually a topic such as that one finds its way onto the stage, but somehow we evaded it.”

She held her breath.

“Truth be told, I never really gave children much of a thought, if at all,” Benedict chuckled, “far too interested in other pursuits. But, that’s not to say such a topic hasn’t been on my mind of late.”

“Has it?”

“Well, with my new nieces and nephew running around—crawling, I suppose—it may have sparked interest in me, yes,” Benedict looked directly at his wife. “But, for all intents and purposes, having a child requires two people and if you have any hesitancy in the topic—no matter little or seemingly small—I do not wish to further the endeavor.”

“What if I am never ready?” Her voice was small, the sound nearly dissolving against the down of the bedding.

“Then we will live a perfectly happy life regardless. You with your books and me with my paint,” Benedict squeezed her hand. Full of love, full of support. “More importantly, we will live such a happy life together.”

Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain from the bright morning sun, but (Y/N) felt the tears she had been holding back finally spill down her cheeks. Without even a second thought, Benedict pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry, rubbing her back with thoughtful circles. He had somehow already moved the tray out of the way, as if he was preparing for a reaction like this. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone could ever plan to know her. This thought only made her cry harder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular, sniffling as she tried to compose herself.

“I rather think I should be asking you that,” Benedict said softly, kissing her brow.

“You truly do not care if I never decide to want children?” (Y/N) asked again, needing to hear her husband’s answer one more time.

“You could decide tomorrow and change your mind a hundred times and I will always be in your corner,” Benedict said seriously. “That is what a husband does. That is what I do for you.”

She smiled.

“Although, I will need to take special care in ensuring you do not become with child accidentally—we’ve been lucky thus far, but I do not consider myself much of a betting man…”

“Were the races last week an oversight, then?”

“Ah, but that was a sure thing,” Benedict snuggled her closer, “what was merely a point to best my brother ended up with us having a healthy amount of spending money! More paints and books in our possession. A win-win if I ever saw one.”

“Kate mentioned something last night,” (Y/N) tried her best to look up at Benedict, but his tight embrace made it difficult. “Something about a bet you and Anthony had regarding children?”

“Oh,” his cheeks flushed, “that.”

“So it is true?”

“In the sense we made such a bet? Yes,” Benedict nodded. “But we made that bet years ago—back when the only idea of us having children regarded heirs for the title, never fathoming we’d do it out of love.”

“What did you wager?”

Benedict smiled, finally pulling away from his wife to look at her directly. “Five pounds.”

“That is all?” She nearly shrieked with laughter. “With such a serious bet I truly would have thought you would have put more on the wager.”

“I suppose I am still expected to pay up one day,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shall gift it to him on Edmund’s eighteenth birthday?”

She smiled at the thought. “I think that would make an excellent present.”

“Because even if we are to have any children,” Benedict continued, “and that is still very much up in the air, surely Anthony and Kate will be constantly going at it to rival my dear Mama for the title of most Bridgerton babes.”

“Giving him a win regardless,” (Y/N) said. “I believe you’re right.”

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way about children,” Benedict said, “I never want you to feel as if your voice does not matter. We are equals in this marriage—partners—in every sense of the word.”

“I may one day change my mind,” (Y/N) amended, choosing her words carefully. “But as of right now, I think we’re perfectly suited the way we are.”

“Well suited, indeed,” he agreed, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “But, I do think this morning calls for a bath—as much as I adore your natural musk, my love, I already had the staff begin to warm water up for you.”

She took a moment to sniff herself. She smelled of sick, smoke and booze. How Benedict was not repulsed was beyond her. “Oh. I suppose a bath is… ideal.”

He rose from the plush bed, outstretching his hand for his wife to take.

“A bath for two, I should mention,” he grinned wickedly. A grin she had loved from the minute she met him. A grin that made her feel wanted and safe, all in the same breath.

She took his hand.

#Benedict Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader #Bridgerton #Bridgerton x Reader #reader insert #fluff #is this self indulgent? perhaps #I'm very much on the fence about children like reader is #children can be a blessing!! but not everyone wants one #anyway... enjoy!

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multifandomfanficss · 6 months

Text

F*ck You?

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

and the rest of the 11th Street Kids

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: Adrian has his own secret way of asking you to sleep with him.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. The team bullying Adrian as per cannon ☹️. Peacemaker typical language.

A/N: Just a silly little thought I had at 5am during a text convo with one of my best friends when I couldn’t sleep. Shout out Tyler for letting me bounce this idea off you. Thanks bestie! Just a short little fic. The italics are flashbacks. Crossposting on my AO3 adriansglasses.

Adrian stuck his middle finger up, pointed at you. You were going through some files on the other side of the room unable to see him behind the papers you were focusing on. Those who saw were giving him questioning looks.

“Dude why are you flipping off, (Y/N)? I didn’t realize you were mad at them” Economos decided to be the first to question him. Usually he didn’t care enough to ask, but even he was curious as to why Adrian was enthusiastically flipping you off.

“Oh! That’s because I’m not. I just wanna have sex when we get back to my apartment. I was saying can I fuck you.” Adrian says, as if it’s obvious. Chris begins to laugh, having overheard the conversation.

“Oh my god. I’m not sure if you’re insane or an idiot.” Harcourt rolls her eyes, walking away.

“I’m pretty sure he’s both. You know that’s not what that means right?” Economos questions.

“It has two meanings.” Adrian says in a very matter of fact way.

“No, it doesn’t.” John argues.

“Then how do they always know what I mean?” Adrian asks, as if he’s proving his point.

Chris continues to laugh to himself as Adrian and Economos argue.

You’re deep in thought, not paying them any attention when Leota passes you the file you were looking for.

“Thanks!” You smile at her.

“Why is Adrian flipping you off?” She asks.

You look over at him, blushing. You nod.

“See!” Adrian yells throwing up his arms. “Two meanings! I told you!”

“Oh god.” You blush, hiding your face in one of the files. You didn’t need the entire team knowing you were going home to have sex after this, but it’s not like it was that big of a surprise. You’d been dating Adrian for a while, of course you had a sex life. “I don’t know how or why he got it into his head that fuck you means can I fuck you- but like I personally think it’s very clever and very cute so I just don’t correct him.” You laugh, deciding to be honest with Leota.

You thought back to the first time he flipped you off in such a manner. You were out with the team celebrating with drinks after a mission. He threw up his middle finger, drawing a question mark in the air with the other hand. You looked at him with a confused look and mouthed. ‘Are you asking me to have sex with you?’ and he mouth back, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Only Adrian could think something like that was obvious. Only Adrian would even do something like that. You smiled, laughing quietly to yourself. It was so uniquely him.

Chris was still laughing uncontrollably in the back. He was thinking of the first time he’d seen Adrian do this too. Little did everyone else know Chris had been the one to teach it to him long before you were dating.

“You really wanna know how I pick up chicks across the bar?” Chris asked with a shit eating smirk.

“Please!” Adrian begged. He could pull girls as Vigilante no problem, but it was a lot harder without the suit.

“Be direct. Just ask if she wants to go home with you. The most subtle way to be direct is to flip her off.” Chris falsely informs.

“Wait… you want me to be subtle and direct? I’m confused.” Adrian asks.

“Well, yeah. You want her to know, not the whole bar.” Chris quickly lies.

“I always thought flipping somebody off was an insult.” Adrian is rightfully cautious.

“It has two meanings. It’s like special. Special can mean you’re one of a kind, cool, awesome, or it could be used the other way.” Chris explains.

“Oh! Okay!” Adrian smiles, before pausing, with a pondering facial expression. “Wait! You call me special all the time.”

“You should hit on that girl over there!” Chris redirects.

“Okay… here goes nothing…” Adrian says, slowly raising his middle finger. The girl looks shocked and starts to walk up to the two men at the bar. “Oh wow! I think it worked!”

Her pace picks up. She walks up to Adrian, slapping him, hard.

“Wait! This is positive! I’m hitting on you!” Adrian says frantically with his finger still up, as she walks away.

“Aw! Fuck! Do you think maybe she had a boyfriend?” Adrian asks, adjusting his glasses and rubbing his jaw.

“Yeah, maybe.” Chris laughs hysterically.

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savanir · 7 days

Text

continuation of this thank you again @mynameisjag for the inspiration, this prompt currently has me by the throat

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

The evening is dreary, rain pouring from the skies like tears. Typical Gotham fare to be honest.

This evening was the stage of the latest gala in the crime filled city, another fundraiser for something, or at least pretending to be.

Vlad brought his dear Madeline as well as Jasmine with him, he was planning to do some light networking but this was also his latest attempt to cheer his sweetheart up. The new experience might distract her a bit.

She had not taken the news well… when the search party found Daniel’s clone corpse in the woods.

It’s been months since the funeral, but her spark for life still has not yet reignited.

And in those past few months Jasmine has seemingly taken over Daniel’s job and has become a most persistent thorn in Vlad’s side, absolutely refusing to let him make any sort of progress with Maddie.

But this evening wasn’t about any of that. There would be no bickering between Vlad and Jazz about him aiding her in finding her lost brother. Not like she even needed his help, she and Daniel’s old friends were probably doing the best job possible in finding the boy.

And it’s not like he could tell her he knew her brother was probably being kept by one of the world's greatest mercenaries.

Revealing that would open a whole new can of worms he didn’t want to explain.

Maddie was mostly distracted at the gala, staring morosely at Wayne and his brood.

The sight fills Vlad with an insidious sort of anger, the kind that lays heavy and molten on the bottom of your stomach. She better not get it in her head to try and replace one bumbling oaf for the next.

Also… getting rid of a Wayne is apparently a weirdly difficult thing to do… Vlad would rather not bother.

And even though he feels bitter, it is rather nice to see Madeline cheer up when she gets to introduce herself to the boys. Vlad again thinks about his plan of conceiving a new son of their own, not to replace Daniel of course, the boy is irreplaceable but… well, yeah to replace him.

After all, is it really worth it to find Daniel anymore at this point?

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The gala is uneventful right up until Vlad leaves the main area for a breath of fresh air, hopefully find the designated smoking area and have a cigarette (it’s not like those things can kill him anymore anyway) but on the way there he saw a shadow darting around the corner and he just couldn’t help himself.

If there was any illegal activity afoot, he rather be on top of it himself, that way he’ll know what he can pull and get away with.

It wasn't until he entered a room and promptly got ambushed that he thought that maybe he had walked into a trap of sorts, oh well, nothing Plasmius wouldn’t be able to fix.

Gotham is a city of freaks but none of them are on his power level after all.

Still, precious decisive reaction time got wasted because he’s thinking of an approach that would not result in him having to permanently silence his assailant. Murder is probably rough to cover up in the city that’s home to the world’s greatest detective and bribing the corrupt police force is such a hassle… a scuffle of a mugging/abduction or whatever gone wrong is much easier to explain.

Instead Vlad finds himself tazed, tazed of all things. Perhaps an ecto infused blast into the nearby wall isn’t such a bad idea after all.

But then he finds he can’t access his powers anymore, and a mild sense of dread takes root in his chest.

That taser… it couldn’t have been….

He isn't given much time to think about it as he’s expertly incapacitated and worked against the ground.

Vlad thinks he hears the faintest mutterings, something along the lines of “we do rely too much on our powers” perhaps it’s some veiled insult directed at his current situation. Uncalled for in his opinion…

Of course he struggles, he fights back. His attacker is way smaller than him, lighter and quick with their moves, whomever this is they certainly know what they are doing and Vlad hates to admit it, but without Plasmius he’s actually outmatched.

That leaves plain ol’ shouting for help.

An idea that quickly got snuffed out when a big army knife that crackles with sickly neon green energy gets pressed against his throat and a detonator gets shown off in his assailant’s hand.

“Quiet now, or I’ll blow this place sky high”

“That seems counterproductive” Vlad can’t help but snarl.

“aww, worried about me? there is no need I’ll be just fine, them on the other hand…”

the attacker puts a tablet down that shows a video feed of the main gala area with all the people milling about.

None of them matter to Vlad, but his Madeline and her daughter are there as well, he easily spots them too.

“What do you want, money? I’m sure there are better targets for that out there”

All of a sudden there is a strangely familiar staticy growl in his attacker’s voice, “I want two things from you, I want you to suffer and then I want you to die”

this is personal then… not good.

His attacker takes a moment to more firmly incapacitate Vlad against the floor before redirecting his attention to the video feed on the tablet screen. In the main gala area a big screen of it’s own has come down from the ceiling, usually meant for big fancy presentations (but those had already been carried out for the evening) and was now showing Vlad’s latest illegal activity for all the people to see.

Inside the room people are worriedly looking to and fro, wondering what rogue attack this will lead to, others are already gleefully taking to social media and broadcasting the events happening to the rest of the world.

Personnel are scrambling about to figure out what’s going on, and a couple Wayne’s have now subtly left the area.

“There we go, all out in the open. No more secrets”

Vlad’s eyes darted over the screen in horror.

“I like this right here,” his attacker zooms in on Maddie’s face as she’s realizing in real time that Vlad paid someone to kill her husband, “that’s a good face”

People are looking around and starting to notice Vlad is not among them anymore.

“You cannot possibly expect to get away with this, the Gotham bats are most likely already aware and hunting you down”

“I know-” His attacker shushes, “don’t spoil my fun, at least let me enjoy this show. Even if you somehow manage to get away from me now your life is completely ruined”

Vlad makes another attempt to escape, growling, “who are you and why are you doing this, how do you even know about half of these things-”

He gets his hands ran through and pinned down fully on the ground with the knives in return.

Vlad figures he must have made some noise but the painful pressure that his assailant keeps on his back is also making it harder to breathe.

“C’mon now, you always boasted about how you’re better and more experienced in every way. Surely you can use that big brain of yours and figure this mystery out, here I’ll help-” the attacker painfully twists his head to the side, “have a look”

It’s dark and the figure is still very much in the shadows but the first thing that catches Vlad’s eyes is the mask over his assailant’s mouth that’s black on the right and orange on the left, a rather obvious hint towards ties with a certain mercenary.

The dark hair styled in that one familiar way brings someone else to mind.

“Daniel”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to twist one of the knives in his hand.

“Don’t call me that”

“Danny-” Vlad doesn’t hesitate to correct even though it does come out rather strangled because of the pain, this is a bad situation and he’s not stupid, “whatever he said-”

there is a faint crackle and it’s only through Vlad’s still slightly enhanced senses that he hears the gruff voice talking to Daniel.

“Wrap it up Memento”

Danny glances at the live feed on the tablet. Proper security is starting to swarm around.

Maddie is holding Jazz close and appears to be talking to someone in charge. One of the Wayne brood has decided to stick with her, the eldest son. How kind of him.

Vlad is still trying to get Danny to listen to him.

Danny sighs, “I kind of wish I could drag this out longer, but this is fine” he twists his knee against Vlad’s neck and now properly restrains Vlad’s legs before pulling out something new.

“This is something my dad was working on before you got him killed, I was planning on sabotaging it and getting rid of the blueprints but... things change”

Danny puts it in the middle of Vlad’s upper back, “I’m sure you’re dying to know what it does. Well, it’s the Fenton Ghost Core Crusher. A bit of a mouthful admittedly. I’m still workshopping a better name, but at the very least the purpose is obvious”

“Daniel-” Vlad is starting to sound like a parent who is realizing that their kid is about to do something dangerous and stupid. It's honestly too bad that he’s not a parent and Danny is not his kid, otherwise it might have actually had it’s intended effect.

“I would have loved to see you deal with the full aftermath and consequences of your horrible choices in life but I don’t really feel like dealing with you as a full ghost so I guess this is it, goodbye forever, it really sucked to have known you”

Vlad has a second to fully regret Deathstroke taking Daniel and not taking it as seriously as he should have and then he’s too busy feeling what must be a supernova and a blackhole manifesting in his chest at the same time somehow.

After that he hears, or perhaps he just feels… a sickening crack and everything fades away.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

There is a corpse at Danny’s feet. It’s Vlad, fully dead, the not coming back kind.

Danny figured he’d feel different, there is some vindication, and the slight satisfaction of a death avenged, but other than that he just feels rather empty, and kind of tired.

Danny doesn’t realize he’s getting a little lost in his head until Slade’s voice cuts through his mental spiral and snaps him out of it.

“Memento, time to move”

“right”

A part of Danny wants to stay, be found. As he goes invisible and floats right through the ceiling he takes some time to fantasize about it. Would it be a bat? or perhaps one of the security guards checking the rooms, maybe it would even be one of the attendees, they would probably scream once they noticed Vlad on the ground. A security guard would be smarter about the situation, but not by much.

A bat would probably attack him once they realized Vlad was already dead.

Later on they would put a little addendum in their rogue list at Deathstroke’s name, a little side file that’s just for Danny, affiliated with Slade Wilson, name; ???, gender; male, age; somewhere between 14 and 18, threat level; capable of killing people, something like that.

A few buildings away Danny catches up with Slade on the roof.

“Did you have fun? did you get it all out of your system?” Slade folds his arms over his chest.

Danny just growls at him.

“In that case it’s time to move on” The man is already turning away.

Well, Danny can agree on that, so he follows Deathstroke away from the mess he caused at the gala and away from his mother and sister.

And here is my idea for a Deathstroke affiliated Danny

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #batman #vlad plasmius #deathstroke #slade wilson #madeline fenton #jasmine fenton #MementoDannyAU #savwrites #Danny is not the ghost king #dc stands for disregard canon #dp x dc #dc x dp #I will admit this got a little out of hand #big enough for AO3 but it's incomprehensible without context so...

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