#this is to circle back to marvel sorry

[cherrysnax]

now that cw flash is over… cw barry’s suits kinda outdoes higher budget mcu suits everytime :/

[macbethz]

🌫️ terrigender Follow

Krakoa is kinda insane if you think about it for more than 5 seconds. Like a hero group just fucked off to an island and made an ethnostate imagine if Tony Stark did that

🧲 magnetowasleft Follow

the difference is tony stark is not part of an oppressed genetic minority hope this helps <3

🏞️ mutiescum Follow

@terrigender ik you ain’t talking w inhuman in your bio

🌫️ terrigender Follow

Just because I’m inhuman doesn’t mean I agree with every single thing the Royal Family does. Funny how every inhuman seems to get that but every mutant I’ve ever met has to deep throat Xavier’s entire dick and balls

🏞️ mutiescum Follow

don’t you have a genocidal mist to vape

🌌 crackoa Follow

OP really thinks that their highly stratified eugenics based caste system is equivalent to an independent socialist mutant nation made to protect us from extinction

🌫️ terrigender Follow

That is a vast oversimplification of the very delicate political situation in Attilan and honestly you really shouldn’t be speaking on this without at least a base understanding of inhuman culture

🏞️ mutiescum Follow

girl i dont gaf go back to the moon

[winteriron-trash]

rdj the (whitewashed) electric boogaloo

This is a reminder to everyone who's excited about RDJ's casting as Doctor Doom that this casting is whitewashing. Victor Von Doom is a Romani character and has been a Romani character since his introduction in the 1960s. (Fantastic Four Annual #2 [1964]) Not only that, but his Roma identity and the persecution he and his family faced due to it is integral to his character, it is what forms his identity. (Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker) Even if on the off chance this casting is meant to not be Victor but instead be some variant of Tony or whomever else becoming Doctor Doom, it is damaging to the character to rob him of that important cultural background. Doctor Doom does not exist without that history. Fans have been pushing hard to cast Doom as a Romani actor for years, especially since the MCU has whitewashed other Romani characters. (Wanda, Pietro, etc) This casting is not a celebration moment, it's fucking heartbreaking that the MCU repeatedly ignores the important and nuanced cultural backstories of characters.

I know I can't change anybody's mind on whether or not you want to be excited about RDJ's return to the MCU. But I do think at the very least you should be mad that the MCU is baiting us all and destroying nuanced and interesting characters for the sake of self-referential easter eggs and nostalgia bait. Because that's what it is. Feel how you'd like to feel about RDJ's return, but personally, this is soul-sucking. I had such a deep love for the MCU as a teenager, it was obviously something incredibly formative to me, especially Tony Stark. This isn't recreating what I fell in love with the MCU for. This is turning a well-planned and artistic storyline of adaptations into cheap cash grabs and fan service. Because, I think we're past the point of being able to call the MCU an adaptation of anything. They can use existing characters' names and powers, but to say they're being properly adapted is laughable.

This is not an adaptation of Doctor Doom. This is RDJ the Electric Boogaloo because Marvel's fear of losing the interest of dedicated MCU fans overrides their willingness to tell stories that are genuine to the characters. I don't know what there is to be excited about that. The MCU has lost its authenticity and aside from a few projects, feels heartless. Every movie is a copy of a copy. This announcement isn't something celebratory, it feels like a death knell of a cinematic universe that's so desperate to cling to relevancy it's resorting to nostalgia for a character/actor who hasn't even been dead for a decade. We're not getting anything new, we're just rinsing and repeating the same song and dance.

I get it. I love Tony Stark, his death destroyed me and I to this day, rue the ending he got in Endgame. It misunderstood his arc and it robbed him of a satisfying conclusion. But the solution to that isn't dragging the corpse out of the grave five years later to whitewash an existing character with rich and interesting nuance, just to forcibly tie his existence in the MCU to Tony. Whether he is a variant or not. Why would you want someone else's fave's legacy to be destroyed simply so your fave's legacy can go on? Hell, if we were really all so hellbent on the return of RDJ and/or Tony to the MCU, we have the multiverse for a reason. There were other ways to do it that didn't whitewash and ruin someone else. This just. Isn't something to be happy about.

[billymarvel]

This last page of SHAZAM! Power of Hope always gets me because its so kind. A story full of self-doubt, of the fire inside himself dimming, of not knowing exactly what to do or where to go.

And then he responds to a letter and goes to a childrens hospital. He plays with them, gets down on their level. He brings them along on adventures and sight-seeing trips. He holds their hand as they rest for the final time.

He learns. He realises. There will always be hardships for both lives he's living. There will always be moments where he will feel lost. there will be moments where Cap doesn't cut it.

But there's a spark in his chest. The fire— its rekindling. He feels it, and wonders how he could have forgotten it in the first place. The warmth. He knows now what to do. He must keep striving to help, to keep on smiling, to keep being kind.

Whether he be Captain Marvel or Billy Batson, he will smile wide and reach out a hand.

[annabelle--cane]

uh oh gang I miss musicals

[flatstarcarcosa]

desperate for lester content and i know there's swaths of it i haven't read but consider: it was bad.

[tojisun]

dadbod simon who lets you hump at his tummy while you ride him and the way he spreads his legs for you when he gets close and him pressing his palm over the outline of himself that he can feel on your stomach and him telling you to take what you need when he’s tired because he’s still so turned on at the thought of his girl wanting to use him and dadbod simon letting you ride him until both of you are shaking and dadbod simon

clawing my thighs because this is so- this is so!!!

thinking about the way he’d marvel at his ‘size.’ in reality, he can’t truly see himself past your fat and muscles, but simon would still place his hand on your stomach, chirping at how proud he is that you’re taking him all the way in; at how you truly are his perfect dear to be able to gobble all of him up.

the way he’d croon shushing noises when you begin to hiccup in your pleasure, trembling like a leaf on top of him because it’s just too much. the ecstasy keeps on bloating, unforgiving, and simon’s eyes are heavy with his desire and you just want to be good for him, to be the lovely darling he keeps saying that you are, so when the oversensitivity hits, you crumble. god, you need him to be able to take charge again. please—

but all simon does is pat your thigh when you stall, humming to himself as he blinks bleary eyes open. “y’ve got to do it y’rself if y’want to cum, kid.”

the sob that is ripped from your throat softens him, finding that he was being too mean, so he jostles the two of you to position you better, until you’re cushioned by his body—softened by his time in retirement, and growing rotund with late night oysters and steaks—and cradled in his arms.

“jus’ one more, love,” simon rumbles, grazing his lips on your shoulder. his hand climbs up your thigh until it’s resting on your pelvis instead.

“one more an’ y’can come up an’ have me lick y’r pussy as sorry,” he adds, and here, he slowly thumbs at your erect clit. you jerk on his hold with a mewl, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes again, but simon keeps it, circling it softly until the pleasure wanes into quiet laps.

“o-okay,” you breathe out, heaving. “love you s’much, si.”

“of course,” he replies, his words muffled on your skin. “love you too, sweet’art.”

then he’s falling back to the cushions for the show.

dear god i need him so bad

[hoshigray]

MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.

a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!

cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡

wc: 950

You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.

Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.

And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...

However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.

Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.

...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.

"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.

"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."

His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.

"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.

"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.

And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.

Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Official Business

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

a/n: I caved in and listened to the depraved gremlins in my mind. I hope you enjoy this official intro, you're welcome.

also, thank the gods for Rue (@peachysunrize) for creating the hottest gif of all time.

themes/warnings: language, barely-there smut, infidelity, unequal power dynamic, gross misuse of a fancy desk, getting involved with a politician (also gross)

main masterlist

Update! - upcoming series

President Aemond demands the company of his favourite reporter, whom he has been eyeing for quite some time.

You try to walk with your head held high, but your clammy hands and racing heartbeat betray your nerves.

“President Aemond wishes for you to grace his suite,” was all they said. They, being two imposing bodyguards in impeccably tailored black suits, occasionally touching their earpieces as if confirming orders.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and tentative. More importantly, why you?

They only shrugged, impassive. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President always gets what he wants.

You’d only spoken to President Aemond in your capacity as a reporter, part of the small circle allowed to amplify his words to the public. The first time was at the annual Westerosi Gala, where he arrived with First Lady Floris Baratheon on his arm. Your colleagues whispered incessantly about how the uncut footage showed his gaze barely straying from you, even with his stunning aristocratic wife beside him.

Your supervisor even had the footage edited. “You don’t need the media vultures swarming you,” he reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

Now, after covering yet another event in Highgarden, it seems you’ve been summoned for an exclusive interview in the President’s suite. You hope that’s all it is.

After all, you can’t be another victim of President Aemond’s wandering eye. Socialites like Alys Rivers and Lara Lannister had been publicly shredded after being exposed as his mistresses.

You never understood his affairs. They seemed so juvenile, reckless even for the youngest President ever elected. Barely thirty and in the highest position imaginable. And yet, what truly baffled you was why Floris stayed.

“Ma’am, the Presidential Suite,” one of the guards states as he opens a set of ornate ivory doors for you. “The President is waiting inside.”

Your feet move automatically, sparing you from blurting something that would inevitably fall on deaf ears. But as you cross the threshold, you turn and ask, “Will you be waiting to escort me back to – ”

The doors shut behind you. Of course.

The suite is grand – no expense was spared for the President. A perfect blend of classic Valyrian architecture, all white marble and gold accents. It’s more impressive than you could have imagined, having marvelled at the Highgarden Hotel from the outside for years.

“Come,” you hear a voice command, smooth and authoritative, from the room to the left of the main parlour. 

You head in that direction, mentally steeling yourself. Just get this over with.

There he is, leaning casually against a wide desk, dressed sharply in a tailored blue suit and crimson tie. The moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows catches the scar across his left eye, the glint of his prosthetic eye giving him an almost sinister allure. The kind that draws people in despite themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t immaturity driving his affairs. Maybe he was just too beautiful to resist. You roll your eyes at the stupid thought, surprised with yourself.

“Something amusing?” His voice is tinged with laughter.

Gods, you just rolled your eyes in front of the President.

“N-no,” you stammer, immediately flustered. “I’m sorry, Mister President. It’s just... I thought of something funny. Not about you! I mean, I’m sure you can be funny, but - ”

“Relax, angel,” he chuckles, raising a hand to stop your rambling. The term “angel” lingers in the air, branding itself into your mind.

You quickly introduce yourself, fumbling through your full government name like a nervous schoolgirl.

“We’ve met before,” he reminds you, smirking. “Am I that forgettable?”

“No, I know we have,” you nod quickly, “just not in such a… private setting.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at your choice of words, and his gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that sends heat rushing through your body. He hums softly, and the sound settles uncomfortably low in your stomach. Gods, get it together.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mister President?”

“Aemond,” he corrects. 

You nod, offering your nickname in return, but he only smiles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with ‘angel.’”

Weird, considering how this is your first proper conversation with him, you think, but nod regardless.

He gestures to the plush chairs in front of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You comply, smoothing your dress nervously. Thankfully, it’s modest enough – a safe choice that flows just above your knees.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice polite but edged with something else. Part of you wishes he’d just get to the point, but another part – one you’d rather not acknowledge – wants to stay, to drink in the sight of him. Aemond Targaryen, the most powerful man in Westeros, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m doing well,” you reply, your smile faltering under his heavy gaze.

He hums again, eyes dipping to your lips. That same maddening hum that sets your nerves alight.

“You must be wondering why I asked for you tonight,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted us to get better acquainted. You’ve caught my attention, angel. I find you… intriguing.”

“But you don’t know me,” you counter quickly, heart racing.

“I know more than you think,” he says, eyes narrowing playfully. “You studied at the Casterly Rock Institute for Journalism. Top of your class, until your grades dropped in your final year because you were taking care of your ailing aunt. That says more about you than any degree.”

He continues, “You’re an only child. Estranged from your parents, especially your mother, after she remarried. You’ve moved city to city since, keeping your distance. Avoiding attachments, especially romantic ones.”

You freeze, his words hitting too close to home. There’s an amused lilt to his voice at the end, and you desperately want to respond with a defensive retort, but you hold your tongue. You like your job after all. He’s the President. One call and he could have you right back in the unemployment pool.

“Am I correct?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

You manage a small nod. Damn him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask quietly, stunned. You wonder if there are hidden cue cards somewhere in the room, informing him of the details of your relatively uneventful life. There is no way he actually made the effort to memorise all these details about you. But then again, he is the Commander-in-Chief of the country. He must have trained himself to know everything about everyone. You’re not special – just another face in his immediate vicinity. 

“I make it my business to know people,” he replies smoothly. “Especially those who interest me.”

He reaches out to take your hand, pulling you gently to stand before him as he perches on the edge of his desk. The proximity is intoxicating. “And you, angel, have caught my eye. You’re the object of my desire. Can you say the same of me?”

His words leave you breathless, the floor slipping from under you. You’re no better than the others, drawn into his orbit. “I’d be an idiot not to find you attractive, Aemond.”

He smirks. “I adore the way you say my name.”

“There’s nothing special about the way I say it.”

“There is,” he insists, his voice low and rough as his hand moves to smooth a stray hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” His expletive takes you aback, so unbecoming of someone of his status. 

“I’m not a fool,” you shoot back, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I’ve heard about your... doings.”

“My doings?” He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You’re married obviously,” you say bluntly. “And you’ve had affairs. Women like Alys Rivers, Lara Lannister…”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve had lovers, yes, but my marriage is... loveless. Floris and I, we’ve always been an arrangement for political convenience.”

“That doesn’t justify anything.”

He steps closer, his eyes darkening. “I’m trapped. I can’t leave her. It would destroy my reputation. But she has her own lovers too.”

“And so you feel entitled to have yours?”

He breathes deeply, gaze unwavering. “Not just anyone. I want you, angel. Only you.”

You feel yourself dangerously close to giving in, especially when his gaze drops to your lips and he shamelessly licks his own. Desperate to stay composed, you ask, “Am I just another lover to add to your collection? I may be a lowly journalist compared to you, Mister President, but I have a reputation to protect too.”

“I know this, angel,” he whispers, his voice softer now, yet drawing closer with every word. “I’ll protect you.”

“Did you protect Alys? Or Lara? Or the others?” you challenge, though your voice falters.

“They orchestrated their own downfall,” he says coolly, his expression unreadable. “They used me for power. That was out of my hands.”

Oh. His words momentarily rattle your resolve, but you shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of the spell he’s weaving over you. “No, this is wrong,” you murmur, the words weak on your tongue. But his warm breath fans your face, luring you into the same madness he claims to feel.

“Is this wrong?” he whispers, his lips grazing yours – featherlike, teasing, barely there. Then, as if something shifts within him, he kisses you again, harder this time, his mouth pressing hungrily against yours. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat through your body as you teeter on the edge of reason.

You cave, for a few seconds, letting your lips dance with his own in a battle for dominance. You elicit a growl out of him, and he picks you up and swaps your bodies so that you are perched atop his desk. 

“Gods,” he purrs, against the heat of your neck. “Sweeter than I imagined. You’re a fucking angel.” His gaze is arresting as his hands slide from your ankles to the hem of your dress, lifting it higher and higher until your moist panties are exposed to the cool air. 

You collect yourself as if hit by a dizzying wave of whiplash, pushing him away with a sharp shove. “Stop – wait, Mister Pres – Aemond…”

He stumbles, lips swollen and slick, his good eye darkened, pupil blown wide. “Right, sorry…” His breath comes heavy as he averts his gaze, and you smooth your dress down, feeling the weight of the moment between you. He straightens, his posture stiffening as if suddenly remembering who he is. “I didn’t mean to push you, angel.”

“You didn’t –”

“It was wrong of me to –”

“Aemond,” you cut in softly, your hand slipping between you to squeeze his in reassurance. “It’s okay. I wanted it too.”

A genuine smile blooms on his lips, innocent and sweet, but it fades just as quickly at your next words. “But this can’t happen again. We can’t happen.”

"Why not?" His voice is low, measured, but there’s an edge to it. "Why can’t we? You say you wanted it too."

“We both know why,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You turn to leave, but hesitate just long enough to say, “Goodbye, Mister President.”

“Angel,” he calls softly, and it’s the only word he offers.

As you step out of his suite, the door closing behind you with a quiet finality, a thought begins to take root, unsettling in its persistence – he never actually said goodbye.

And deep down, you know this isn’t over. Something stirs in your chest, an uneasy certainty - while this is the first of these kinds of encounters, it won’t be the last. 

Taglists (refer here to be added)

vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee @decaffeinatedparadisepost @iloveallmyboys @inesdiary96

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @misssanzthings @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

Some notes in the margins...

Knowing me, this will inevitably turn into more than just a oneshot. Do bookmark this or my masterlist to keep updated! Or you may join the taglist using the link above ~

[atomicladytimetravel]

The Best Part of Waking Up

Summary: Joel comes home exhausted after working fourteen hours, but reader is in the mood. After some begging, reader gives up. Joel wakes her up in the middle of the night to give her what she asked for.

Warnings: Mature content. Porn with very little plot - like is the plot in the room with us? 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Unprotected p in v, creampie, use of the word ‘whore’ (once and reader likes it), use of ‘daddy’, dirty talk, spanking, slight ass play.

Word Count: 1,851

It’s finally Friday, your favorite day of the week. Your husband Joel usually comes home at around 4:00 PM and the two of you have takeout, watch a movie and then fuck like rabbits. Sometimes you just fuck like rabbits. Either way, your body has basically been programmed to expect dick every Friday evening.

You glance anxiously at the time on your phone - 6:55 PM. Joel should’ve been home almost three hours ago, but something had gone wrong at the job site and he had to stay and deal with it. He promised he would be home by seven, but he hasn’t even called to say he’s on his way.

Finally, at 9:00 PM, you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps on the front porch. He opens the door, a sheepish look already on his face.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he apologizes immediately. “Being the owner isn’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.”

“It’s alright Joel, you’re home now.”

You cross over to him and hook your arms around his neck. His arms circle your waist and he gives you a lingering kiss. You’ve been horny all day and the slight bit of affection sends you into overdrive. You try to initiate sex, but he gently pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry honey, but I’m exhausted. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll have tomorrow to ourselves, yeah?”

“Mm, pleeeease Joel? I’ll do all the work.”

“As tempting as it sounds, I’m just too tired. I worked fourteen hours today,” he protests.

“But daddyyyy,” you pout, but he puts a finger to your lips.

“No whining. I’m going to go lay down and tomorrow, I’ll fuck you all day. I promise.”

“Fine,” you agree and he kisses you again. He bids you good night and you watch a few more episodes of your favorite show before joining him.

Joel wakes up a few hours later with his cock throbbing between his legs. He tosses and turns for another half hour, trying every method he could think of to make a hard on disappear.

“I should’ve fucked her when she was begging for it,” he thinks to himself. He turns and snuggles close to you, his hard on pressed into your ass. He kisses your neck, reaching underneath your sleep shirt to fondle your breast.

“Wake up baby girl,” he whispers in your ear when you start to stir. He nibbles your ear while he rolls your nipple between his fingers and you can’t help but let out a soft moan.

“What are you doing Joel?” you giggle sleepily.

“‘M just tryin’ to give you the cock you were beggin’ me for earlier.”

“Mm, but ‘m sleepy now baby,” you whine. You don’t protest when his hand wanders underneath your panties, however. He drags his middle finger through your wetness and uses it to circle your clit.

“Seems like you could use some help t’me,” he mutters into the crook of your neck. “She’s so wet baby. She wants t’be played with.”

You drape your leg over his in response, opening yourself up to him.

“There ya go baby, let me have it,” he rasps in your ear. You whimper quietly as he rubs slow circles on your clit. He dips his finger into your entrance and marvels at just how wet you are.

“Mmm, yeah she wants it bad darlin’.”

You whine as he removes his hand from your panties and he shushes you.

“I’m gonna take care of my baby girl, don’t worry. I just wanna get you naked first.”

You feel him shuffle behind you and he turns on the lamp on his bedside table. You roll onto your back, squinting and groaning at the sudden brightness.

“Sorry, I just wanna be able to see my beautiful girl,” he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. He pulls the comforter off your body and hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. He tosses them aside and you sit up, pulling the shirt over your head as he sheds his boxers.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he compliments as he moves toward you on his knees. You lie back as he settles between your legs. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him toward you; he collapses on top of you with a chuckle and quick kiss.

“Thought you were too sleepy,” he teases. You pull his head down for a hot, opened mouth kiss.

“Not anymore,” you mumble against his lips. “Want you so fucking bad.”

“Yeah angel? You wanna feel daddy’s cock?”

“Yes…please,” you respond. He settles onto his knees and wraps a hand around his cock. He pushes the tip through your slit, using it to rub your clit. You grip onto his forearm and moan his name as he continues using his cock to rub your clit.

“Fuck it feels good just like this,” he groans. “Might make you cum like this before I fuck you. Pussy’s so fuckin’ slick.”

You don’t protest; the head of his cock on your aching clit feels too fucking good.

“Yes, please daddy don’t stop. It feels so good, been needing you to touch me all day.”

“Aww, you needy little thing,” he coos. “Always so ready for my cock, my good girl.”

You whimper in response, head tipping back as you feel the beginnings of your orgasm approaching.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha baby? I can see it on that beautiful face. Go on, let it go for me so I can stuff that tight hole.”

“Yeah baby, I’m gonna cum. Keep going just like that, I’m so fucking close.”

He slides his cock through your folds once, twice, and then on the third time, you’re coming undone.

“I’m cumming baby, fuck!”

“That’s it darlin’ - fuck baby girl, you’re gettin’ my cock so wet.”

He slaps the head of his cock on your clit as you cum, prolonging your orgasm. Once you’ve come down, he aligns himself with your entrance and pushes in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls around him.

“Always so tight f’me,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy made just to take my cock.”

He rocks into you slowly at first, burying his face in the crook of your neck to suck on the skin there.

“My pretty, perfect baby girl,” he whispers. “Oh baby, you feel so good.”

“Oh god,” you whimper. You hook your ankles together behind his back, allowing him to push deeper. You drag your nails down his back and he snaps his hips forward in response; he loves the stinging feeling of your nails on his skin when he’s giving you his cock. He’ll have red scratch marks for a day or two, but he loves the reminder of how good he makes his baby feel.

“Do it again,” he hisses, and you oblige. He snaps his hips forward again with a growl.

“H-harder Joel, please,” you beg.

He sits up and hooks his forearms underneath the crooks of your knees and starts pounding into you. The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts and you grip the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah baby? Like this? You wanna get fucked like a little whore?”

“Yes daddy, oh my god!” you cry.

“Fuck yeah, take this fuckin’ cock. Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

“Keep going baby, ‘m gonna cum,” you pant.

“Rub that pretty clit for me baby,” he instructs through gritted teeth. “Cum all over daddy’s cock pretty girl.”

You reach between your bodies and rub fast circles on your clit. Coupled with his hard thrusts, the action causes you to tumble over the edge, legs shaking and wild moans escaping your throat.

“Oh my god Joel, ‘m cumming so fucking hard!”

“Oh god yeah, I feel that pussy squeezin’ me,” he moans. He pulls out when you’ve come down and strokes himself slowly.

“Turn over and throw that gorgeous ass in the air for daddy.”

You obey quickly, arching your back and giving him the best view of your ass. He smacks it appreciatively, the sting making you moan. He spreads your cheeks and whistles lowly.

“Mmm, look at that pretty little ass hole.”

He slides his cock back into your pussy and grabs your hips, setting a steady pace.

“One day I’m gonna stuff both of your little holes at the same time,” he promises. The thought makes a fresh surge of arousal course through you.

“Oh, you like the thought of that, do ya little one?” he chuckles, feeling the rush of wetness that came with your arousal.

“Yes daddy,” you whimper. He stuffs the tip of his thumb into your ass hole and you gasp.

“Feel good?” he questions.

“Yes, please leave it there,” you respond.

“So fuckin’ hot baby. Oh fuck, I love you,” he whimpers.

“I love you Joel.”

His thrusts speed up and your head falls into the pillow below you, muffling your sounds. He grips your hair and pulls hard enough to lift your head.

“Keep that head up. I wanna hear how fuckin’ good I’m makin’ you feel.”

“Yes daddy,” you obey. He doesn’t release his grip, however, and with his hand in your hair and his thumb in your ass, you cum hard around him.

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming daddy!” you wail.

“Yeah baby, that’s my good girl. Daddy loves listening to you cum.”

He fucks you through your orgasm and keeps pounding into you until you’re having another. He spanks you repeatedly while your pussy clenches around him and you babble mindlessly about how good his cock is.

“I know baby, and you take it so well,” he smirks. “Best god damn pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

“Mmm, fuck, I can’t stop cumming,” you moan as a fifth orgasm hits. “Oh god daddy, I’m cumming so good.”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he grits out. “Fuck, I’m gonna unload right in this little pussy. Gonna fill you so full of my cum. My balls are so fuckin’ heavy.”

“Yes daddy, give it to me. Give me your cum.”

His thrusts become sloppy until an animalistic sound tears from his chest. He grips both hips as his balls tighten and ropes of cum fill your pussy.

“Baby girl,” he rasps. “God damn, I’m blowing a fuckin’ load in your pretty pussy.”

You feel some of his cum trickle down your thigh, but he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck baby, it’s already spilling out and I’m not - nnngh - not done yet.”

He finishes with a final thrust and pulls out of you gently. Cum immediately starts dripping from your spent hole and he gets up to grab a towel. He cleans off your thighs and wipes off his dick before finding your panties and helping you into them.

“Keep as much of me in there as you can baby,” he says, patting your clothed pussy. He settles into bed behind you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“Get some sleep my love,” he whispers in your ear. “I still intend to keep my promise about tomorrow.”

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader Receives WandaNats Nudes Accidentally

Authors note: For my ease, all of the drabbles for the couples will have reader receiving the couples nudes in the same manner (Though circumstances do differ). I apologize if this becomes repetitive.

Warnings: smut (fingering and mirror sex)

Word count: 902

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

   Wanda lets out a small mewl as Natashas fingers curl inside of her and she leans further back into the redhead's embrace. The feeling of her girlfriends hardened nipples against her bare back has Wanda feeling even more flustered, and she closes her eyes in an effort to regain some semblance of composure

   “Ah ah, open your eyes” Natasha commands, monetarily halting the movement of her fingers, “You're supposed to be watching how I fuck you, remember?”

    Wanda squirms slightly, but nods her head, “Sorry Tasha….”

    “It's alright” she replies, kissing the side of the younger woman's neck before she starts pumping her fingers once more, causing a moan to escape the brunette, “So pretty…”

   All Wanda can do is whimper in response as she subconsciously spreads her legs further apart, which only causes Natasha to chuckle at her neediness. The older woman moves the hands that had previously been resting on Wanda's waist up to her chest, first just feeling each shuddering breath she was taking before groping her

   “O Bozhe(Oh god)!”

   Natasha can’t help but smile against her girlfriend's bare shoulder, there is absolutely nothing that compares to this. She loves being able to make the younger woman fall apart like this while bringing her the heights of pleasure and the fact that Wanda trusts her with such vulnerabilities always has her own heart racing

   They both look in the mirror's reflection, watching how Wanda's pussy eagerly swallows the older woman's two slender digits, her arousal dripping down the Russians wrist and onto the bed sheets below. The sight has Wanda feeling even more turned on, but also slightly embarrassed by the vulnerability and mess

   Natasha can sense this and not wanting her girlfriend to worry she offers up some praise, “Thats it dorogoy(sweetheart), you're doing so well”

   Wanda shudders as the words are whispered against her, and her walls flutter around Natashas fingers indicating she's approaching her release. Nat brings her thumb to circle the younger womans clit as her fingers start thrusting even faster, and she brings her other hand up to squeeze her neck

   “I know you're close….cum for me”

   “Ah! Tasha!” Wanda shouts, her legs shaking as her walls clamp down on her girlfriends fingers and her juices gush out onto the redheads palm

   Nat continues to gently pump her fingers to help her ride out her orgasm and only pulls them out when she hears Wanda whimper, telling her without words that she's too sensitive to continue. She brings her fingers up to her own lips and sucks them clean, savoring the taste of her girlfriend while still making eye contact in the mirrors reflection, causing Wanda's now free hole to twitch around nothing

   Once her fingers are clean an idea enters her head and she quickly grabs her phone from beside them. Wanda groggily watches as she holds it up beside them, pointing it towards the mirror and the thumb of the hand that had still be wrapped loosely around her neck rubs a soothing circle

   “Look at your reflection, detka(baby)” she listens and hears a picture be taken, and it must turn out well based on the reaction of, “Perfect”

   Nat kisses her cheek as her hand moves back down to rest on her waist, but before she can set her phone down again Wanda's turning slightly, “Can you send it to me, please?”

   Nat smiles, “Of course lyubov'(love)”

   She quickly sends it off, not noticing that she's hit the wrong chat before she helps Wanda to the bathroom. By the time she's done helping clean her up and get her into her pajamas a bit of energy has come back to Wanda and she excitedly makes her way to grab her phone. She's happy with what she sees, and finds it very hot. Until she notices that its actually been sent off to the groupchat with their bestfriend and not so secret crush, Y/n

   “Tasha…lyubov'(love), you sent it to our chat with Y/n….”

   The Russians green eyes go wide with anxiety and she squeaks out a small, “Shit”

   Downstairs you're in the compound's kitchen, unfortunately listening to Steve drone on about something regarding the new training routine when you hear your phone go off. But thanks to Captain blabbermouth you can’t yet check it, which sucks considering that it's most likely from one of the beautiful and amazing women you get to call best friends and certainly don't yearn for in a more than friends way.

   Finally his speech is over and you quickly grab your sandwich and start to head off for your room before remembering the message and pulling out your phone. When your eyes take in the sight of a naked, spread open and clearly freshly fucked Wanda whose leaning against an equally naked Natasha who has ahold of the younger womans throat, you nearly drop your sandwich in the hallway

   Your mind races as you try to comprehend everything, but the shock must make you take too long because suddenly a text from Wanda is coming through, Y/n, are you ok?

   Am I okay? Wands, I’ve just seen you and Natty nude after sex…I think I’ve ascended 

   “Yeah, she's fine” Nat says with a smirk beside the brunette before sending a reply, Well, if you enjoyed it so much, why don't you ascend your way to our room 

    Without hesitation you drop your sandwich and hastily make your way to the elevator down the hall, Yes ma'am

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[ssweetleaf]

currently thinking about asshole!king steve using you whenever he feels like it :(

SMUT 18+ below, mean!steve, manipulation, p in v, creampie

—♡—

You were tangled between your bed sheets, Steve’s hulking figure above you, sweat beading at his hairline with his hands clasped in yours.

So intimate, you thought— letting King Steve into your bedroom, having him marvel at your painted walls and pretty little belongings, and he cooed over them, stroked at your skin and let you sit in his lap while you jokingly introduced to him your childhood stuffed animals.

And when you let him kiss you, it felt different. Different than any other kiss you had shared with another, chaste and soft— plush lips sponging to your cheek every once in a while before he had you on your back, naked, completely bare for him, while he praised and worshiped every inch of revealed flesh.

When he inched inside you, he went slow, careful— fully aware of the sheer size of his dick and how it stretched your quivering walls open. Harmlessly mocking at your pout, nudging at your cheek with his nose and breathing in the pretty perfume you had spritzed over yourself before he’d arrived.

“Atta girl.” He would coo between thrusts, curling his digits around yours, clasping your palms flush together— easing closer to you, his naked chest pressed firm against your tits, groaning at the way your nipples protruded and grazed along his pecs.

He loved it when you called him ‘Stevie’, loved it when you moaned it, little whines and gasps shuddering over you while he nudged that special spot with his ruddy tip.

“Yeah—” he groaned, “y’Stevie’s girl, aren’t ya?”

And you’d nodded, too fervently, your tits jiggling, another reason for him to ogle at them— only removing a clasped hand to give them a little squeeze. ‘Gotta pay attention to the girls’ he had said.

When he made you cum— with a thumb pad circling your peaked clit and deepened thrusts of his cock— you swore you saw stars, your gaze turning glimmering and watery, vision clouded all while he muttered little praises into your ear. His good girl. His perfect girl.

Steve had almost exploded on the spot when you’d told him to cum inside you, to fill you up and not pull out. You promised you were on the pill and you swore you could see his shoulders deflate a little, though you shook it away, and he came deep in your belly, filling you with thick ropes of his cum.

You felt special, wanted— you felt maybe he’d ask you to be his girlfriend afterwards. Make it official, like you so desperately wanted.

So it was a surprise to you in school the next day, seeing him stood in the halls, back pressed to a locker and with another girl hooked under his arm.

He ignored you when you waved at him. He followed along with his friends when they laughed and mocked you for thinking Steve Harrington would ever be with a girl like you. However, once in a while, you’d get a call from him, cooing apologies while he fucked his fist, claiming he needed you, that he was sorry and you’d invite him into your bedroom just to have it happen all over again.

—♡—

send me asks <3

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so maybe giving his calling card to a kid was a bad idea. He sees that now. Unfortunately, it's too late to take it back. On the bright side, the kid wasn't going to be able to figure out who he is yet based solely on a summoning circle. In the pitch black void of things, Danny can sense the card and the person who's holding it.

Maybe if he leaves Fawcett fast enough he can keep plausible deniability because there's no way that the tiny homeless kid he just met is Captain Marvel. Nope, no way. Not his circus, not his monkeys. He's leaving now.

"What happened to you?" Deadman had an insufferable grin on his face. Did he have the House drop him in Gotham? Danny wouldn't put it past him.

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Where ya going?"

"To the basement."

"Why?"

Was the other ghost always this annoying? "Because leaving was a terrible idea. I'm going to go hide in the basement until the day I fully die."

"Aw," Deadman tried to pout, but he failed and started to cackle. "Don't be like that. Did you not enjoy your trip to Gotham?"

Danny was a lot of things. Violent usually didn't make it onto that list. However, he was willing to make an assumption. "So it was your fault."

Another cackle. "Don't be like that! You've never been to Gotham before. You can't tell me you at least didn't have fun."

They were at the basement stairs now. "For your information, I have been to Gotham. I didn't get to do much exploring this time because Batman and his gaggle of sidekicks surrounded me!"

"You've been to Gotham?"

"Not important."

"Oh?" The glee on the full ghost's face made Danny uneasy. "I sense a story behind that."

Oh, no. "No. I'm not telling you." He marched past and down the stairs, not bothering to unlock or open the door.

"Please!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said 'no'."

"Party pooper." he huffed. "You know I'm just going to keep asking, right?"

A sigh. "I'm not gonna cave. No."

"Ah, but you will!" That was the confidence of a ghost who knew he was right. Danny did not like how that bodes for him. "You, my friend, are a younger sibling. I am also a younger sibling."

Shit. "That....That means nothing. My answer will stay 'no'."

Deadman had the gall to chuckle darkly. "We'll see." Then, he disappeared.

Danny didn't sigh because he doesn't need to breathe. He was not going to tell what happened because what happens in Gotham stays in Gotham. It's a rule of thumb that people don't cross. Besides, Deadman doesn't know that Danny's actually the middle sibling. Dani, introduced to his parents soon after he'd told them he was a Halfa, was the embodiment of younger sibling because he had once been the embodiment of younger sibling.

***

"Please get Deadman to stop!" Danny begged Zatanna three weeks later. Maybe he'd overestimated himself a little bit.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow as she looked up from the book she'd been reading. Something on runes? "What's he doing this time?"

"He won't stop asking me to tell him about my first trip to Gotham."

"You've been to Gotham?"

Danny groaned into the throw pillow he was clutching. "Yes. Please make him stop!"

"Sorry, hun," she focused back on her book, "But I can't see him."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

Danny shot up, appalled by the very idea. "It's a matter of principle!" he exclaimed, "I am both the older and younger sibling: The middle child. If I give in, I'll have failed! I can't do that. Do you want me to fail?!"

"Okay, okay, geez!" she surrendered, "Don't gotta be so overdramatic about it."

"I'm not being overdramatic! I'm being just dramatic enough!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

"You look like one."

"Yeah, but I'm not! I'm-"

"King of the Infinite Realms," Constantine interrupted, "We know."

"Then don't call me a kid."

"Yeah, yeah, kid,"

"I'm not-!"

"Look, we can have this argument all day and we'll still end in a tie. I've got a case in San Francisco near Titan's Tower. Raven's coming along. Do you want to come with?"

"Don't you normally work solo?" Danny asked. Zatanna still hadn't looked back up from her book and he was pretty sure she'd tuned them out.

"Is that a 'no'?"

"No! No, I'll come with." Maybe having Constantine with him will deter the JL from hounding him. What do they even want with him? If they're upset that he died at fourteen, he's gonna scream.

The Brit smirked. "You sound almost desperate to get out."

"Shut up and let's go."

"Alright, alright."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Right Person

G/N. 5.2k. Childhood friends to lovers, sorta canon compliant.

The first time you meet Jake, you are the right person at the right place.

Almost.

Both precocious pre-teens and families already intertwined.

Your father does something with his father, but that always seems to be the case, everyone knows Gapryong. Works with him in one way or another. He has all sorts of connections.

The peculiar thing though, at least to Jake's pre-pubescent mind, was that he met you.

Few of his father's underlings or 'business partners' have a child that tag along. Fewer still that are seen as an equal.

Apart from being told to call him Oppa, you don't have any other formalities to follow. You stick your tongue out at him, tease him, laugh at his jokes. He in turn shares his candy and sticks of gum and saves all his best punchlines for you.

Minseong, or Auntie as you call her, always smiles at you; calling you precious and talking about how you and Jake would be a great match to join the families.

That could have been a possibility. If fate had been kinder his childhood crush could have blossomed into puppy love and everyone would have been thrilled at the development.

But before anything was allowed to flourish, fate had other plans.

Gapryong is murdered, and your and Jake's life take a different course.

You attend the wake, offering your condolences and saying all the right things in these unfortunate occasions.

Holding Auntie's hand in yours and telling her you're sorry. In the quiet of his bedroom, you wrap your arms around Jake's shaking body, rubbing circles into his back, kissing his forehead, even as he tries to hold it together.

.

.

For a brief moment of time after, you and Jake are like glue. Joined at the hips, never seen without the other.

Staying by his side as he gets his irezumi tattoos, oohing and aahing as he unveils the healed ink to you. Pouting as he shoots up like bamboo, puberty taking hold; growing tall and gangly and a full head or three taller than you. Walking each other home from middle school, him waiting for you outside your school gates. Dropping the bombshell that he has to stay behind for another year; besotted as you lecture him about his awful grades.

Eventually, time moves on.

Your family find better connections and ventures - respectable, creditable, without any of the Kim family's gangster past, and quietly and without fanfare remove themselves from the late Gapryong's inner circle.

They distance themselves, and though you ignore their request to do the same - Big Deal's boss, Sinu Han finds Jake Kim and so does Samuel Seo and the distance naturally grows.

Jake stays in the periphery of your life.

The occasional text, and rarer run-ins.

But he always keeps an ear out for you. Looks for you in every reflection. Hopes for you round every corner.

Right person at the right place but at the wrong time.

.

.

He does purposely seek you out once.

When he is on the cusp of joining Big Deal and needs someone sane to talk to.

To decipher his thoughts and feelings with the one person who knows him best.

It's you, it's always been you but-

After, he fully realised how different you both are. The trajectories you are on. You, untainted by all this gang shit, and him about to dive head first into it.

He can't marr you with this.

Wrong place, wrong time.

.

.

You sought him out once too, in the form of a letter as he serves his time in juvie.

Jake marvels at your handwriting, chicken scratch somehow turned graceful and elegant with time.

Yet-

Awkward silences punctuate the end of each sentence, and disappointment is found between the lines. Your tone is almost pleading, and there's a desperate yearning for yesteryear.

Jake chooses instead to focus on the crumbs of your life you offer. Thinks at least you're happy and safe and ignorant to the sort of life he leads now.

He keeps your letter under his pillow. Reads it over and over until he can recite it off by heart. Drafts a different reply in his mind every night though he can never bring himself to respond.

.

.

"Jake?"

The next time you see him again, he barely recognises you. Whether that was due to seasons apart or his focus on other priorities, he isn't sure.

He turns his head when you call his name, Johan Seong following suit.

"You look different," you comment and he does. Jake finally fills out his tall frame, lean muscle showing through his suit and a scar now adorns his lips.

He tilts his head, trying to place you until you frown. A familiar look of impatience, rolling your eyes-

"Y/N?" Your name feeling rusty on his tongue and his eyes widen at your appearance. How well the years have treated you, how kind puberty has been and how amazingly you clean up.

"Too important now to remember me?" You say, folding your arms but smiling.

"Me? I'm a nobody," Jake grins, relaxing in your presence as Johan mutters his agreement somewhere in the background. "What are you doing around here?"

In the end, he rejects your entrance to Club Vivi.

"Aw Jake, cmon for old time's sake!"

"You're underaged!" He says, but what he wants to tell you is this place is bad news. The further you stay away from anything to do with the Four Crews, from himself, the better.

"Shit!"

You manage to refrain from stomping your feet like a bratty child, distracted by the way that Jake smiles at you. Even with the pulsating music spilling out onto the street, the heaving queues of people, it feels just like it used to.

A wave of nostalgia hits you.

You reach out, yanking him down by his tie until he is eye level with you.

"Whatever." You thought you might be more upset with the rejection but you can't bring yourself to care right now. Not when Jake Kim is right there. "Text me, ok? I don't hear from you anymore. I miss you."

Jake's throat is suddenly dry.

How many years has it been since he's been eye to eye with you. He remembers his mother's fondness of you, your tinkling laugh in his ear. You by his side, the kisses on his cheek and soothing strokes on his back.

"I miss you t-"

Then Johan Seong clears his throat, uncomfortable at being caught up in this scene and wanting to be literally anywhere else, and Jake's eyes dart towards him.

God Dog.

One of the four gangs.

A mess of underhanded dealings involving Gun Park and Goo Kim. God Dog and Big Deal and Hostel and Workers.

The current situation draws sharply into focus, and Jake is reminded of his main goal - Sinu Han.

The spell is broken and Jake's mask as Big Deal Boss slams firmly back on.

"Sure thing," Jake straightens up again and you have no choice but to release your grip.

He doesn't plan to. Doesn't want to drag you into his mess. Swallows down any regret and feelings and offers you a wink instead.

Still the wrong place, wrong time.

.

.

Despite Jake's best intentions you are reunited.

You join Big Deal.

...Or more accurately, you find employment on Big Deal Street.

"Y/N?" Jake calls out to you and today your role is reversed.

It takes you a while to recognise your Jake dressed in his suit, a new scar across his nose and flanked by intimidating looking men. Body language serious, powerful and domineering.

Goddamn.

"...Jake?!"

"Everything ok, Boss?" Someone asks and your eyebrows quirk at 'Boss'.

"Fine, Jerry," Jake dismisses any concerns from the hulking man to his right and turns his smile on for you once more, "Just nice to see an old friend."

He lips says friend but his heart wonders if he has the privilege of calling you that anymore.

Are you barely even acquaintances? Someone you might bump into and give a polite nod to. Was he that teenager that you used to hang with once upon a time who you occasionally reminisce about? Do you ever think about him and wonder how he is doing? Do you think about the moments that you had together and the lives you could have had?

Turns out it doesn't matter anyway.

Jake catches the softness in your eyes and he sees that friend is enough.

It could be enough.

.

.

Now working part time at the restaurant Jake likes to frequent, you bump into each other time and time again. You become a regular fixture in his life once more.

Serving him extra large portions with a grin, offering up pickle juice with every stew.

"You still add this to all your jjigae, right?" You pull a face, it was never to your taste even if Jake acts like it's the most delicious thing in the world.

Jake blinks in surprise. "You remembered?"

You wipe your hands on your apron, then rest them on your hip. "Duh."

The other faces you gradually put a name to.

Jerry, Brad, Jason, Lineman, and later Lua.

You join them occasionally for the odd drink, perched at the end of the bench next to Jake and soaking up the warm atmosphere, or more likely the boys getting a telling off from Lua even as she throws you a small sly grin every so often.

Sinu and Yeonhui join the group now and then.

The latter takes a liking to you and the former gives you unsubtle glances, elbowing Jake and murmuring things in his ears that causes him to blush and bat Sinu away.

He's talking about you, that much is obvious but you wonder what it is exactly that turns Jake that cute shade of pink.

"What are you saying about me?" You whisper into Jake's ear one time and he jerks sharply at your proximity. Banging his knee against the table so hard that it topples some drinks.

"Shit!"

"Jake!" Yeonhui tuts, "Be careful."

Sinu, arm around her, just grins like a maniac.

.

.

You: Sooooo...

You: What is Sinu always whispering about?

Jake: Don't worry about it 😘

You: 😒

Jake: Sorry we didn't get to talk much today.

Jake: Hope you're ok

You: Don't worry about me!

You: I know you're super busy

You: It's just nice being around you again

Jake: Same 🙂

Jake: Are you going to get fired for giving me that free lunch?

You: You look like you needed it

Jake: I'm fine 💪

You: Nuh uh. You're tired. And stressed. I can tell

Jake: ...

Jake: Thanks for looking after me

Jake: I've missed you

You: I've missed you too

You: I've still got your jacket!

Jake: No worries I'll get it tomorrow

You: Thanks for letting me borrow it

You: and walking me home

Jake: M'lady

You: 😒

Jake: Good morning 😁

You: Too early 😪

Jake: It is. But i'm looking forward to seeing you later

You: Still can't believe you sprayed jjigae out your nose

Jake: You caught me off guard!

You: It was just an innocent comment

You: Who knew where your filthy mind went

Jake: 😒

Jake: You made Brad blush!

Jake: brad!!

You: 🤭

You: Can you ask Jerry to stop calling me ma'am?

Jake: Will do

Jake: Sorry ma'am

You: 🙄

You: Do you always train like that?

Jake: Yeah why?

You: Oh 🫣

You: Why does everyone in your crew keep bowing to me

Jake: Who knows why they do what they do

You: And EVERYONE keeps calling me Ma'am!

Jake: 🤷🏻‍♂️

You: Shirtless was unnecessary

Jake: 😉

You: 🙄

Jake: you try running laps around the street

You: can't put those abs away can you

Jake: not when they get so many admirers

You: 🙄

Jake: I had the weirdest dream about you last night

You. Go oooon

Jake: 🤐

You: Stop distracting me! You're going to get me fired

Jake: Who's gonna fire you?

You: Jake!

Jake: I'll speak to the owner don't worry about it

You: Jake NO

Jake: Now who's distracting who

You: Well who's gonna fire the boss?

Jake: 😒

You: Besides I didn't even do anything

Jake: That uniform cannot be regulation 🥵

You: 🤫

You: Thanks for taking me to see Auntie!

Jake: Moms so happy to see you

Jake: Found someone else to slander me with

You: It's all from a place of love

Jake: Sure 🙄

Jake: You working tonight?

You: Yeah and you better keep me company 😚

Jake: Always

.

.

During your closing shifts, when Jake is around, your boss and owner, is frequently nowhere to be seen.

You wonder if Sinu is responsible for this but you can never bring yourself to mind when Jake stays behind, offering to help.

Removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he wipes down surfaces with you, loads the dishwasher, clean the floors.

"Isn't this beneath the Big Deal leader?" You ask tonight, mopping as he clears and re-organizes the counter.

Jake shrugs, "I don't mind."

(Truth be told, Jason and Brad had given him a questionable look through the shop window once, when they were patrolling the streets at night and found their beloved boss performing menial duties.

Then they saw you grinning next to him and the way Jake looked at you.

And they got it. They, and no other Big Deal member, had questioned it since.)

You resume focus to your task at hand, wringing out the filthy water and scrubbing with earnest.

Damn, this patch of floor is dirty.

Despite pouring all your strength into this section, the mysterious grey splodge, which has likely accumulated from years of slipshod mopping, still has not shifted.

Noticing the sheen of sweat along your brow, Jake plucks a napkin from the holder and offers it to you. "Here."

"I'm fine."

"Your sweaty face says otherwise."

"Nah, I'm good."

You narrow your eyes at the stain, so absorbed in your task you don't notice his approach.

Contemplate getting on your hands and knees to examine it when Jake's hand edges forward, gripping your chin gently, and disrupts your train of thought.

"Come here." He huffs with amusement, angling your face to his.

Your eyes widen comically large and he chuckles. He brings the napkin up to your brow, dabbing attentively. Your temples and down the side of your face, the tip of your nose, before cupping your cheek.

"There."

There indeed.

You lean into his palm and sigh. A sigh built up from the depth of your being, that started from years ago, and your eyes flutter close when you feel Jake's thumb run along your bottom lip.

It's more intimate than you have ever been before but doesn't feel anywhere close to enough.

"Y/N-" he murmurs. Your name feels rusty no more.

Jake leans closer. LIke a moth to a flame, and your flame burns undying and gold.

Knuckles rap on the window, shattering the moment. You both turn and see Jerry with a solemn look on his face.

"One moment," Jake says, eyes apologetic and he exits.

The moment stretches as you watch Jake talking to Jerry outside. Both their expressions growing more fierce, exchanged more heated, by the second.

Jake sighs, and his sigh is nothing like yours only minutes ago. His eyes catch yours. He thinks he might regret this forever, wondering about the lingering what-if, but he thinks about your safety and the safety of Big Deal, and he leaves. Striding off into the night.

Jerry comes in, contrite and bows. Tells you sorry but Jake has somewhere else to be.

Leaves you even more bewildered and confused, wondering what has happened.

.

.

Workers storm the street only a few days later.

The Hunt for Big Deal peaks when Eugene, not able to get his way, calls in his favour.

Holding back the police, intrusive thoughts of his failure as a leader enter Jake's mind. The state of the street, the crew. Members of Big Deal lie bruised and bloodied around him.

The one silver lining, at least, is that you're nowhere near.

You're not tangled up in this.

.

.

Maybe it could have been the right place.

But the time cannot be more wrong.

.

.

You and Jake had left your friendship hanging at an odd place that night.

Then he never called, never texted.

(Neither did your boss, but you didn't care about that.)

You glumly scroll through your text chain with him. All the flirtatious words that you had assumed were building up to something.

You sent him one message asking if he was ok, an olive branch and permission to forget everything if it made him uncomfortable and he didn't respond.

The silence said everything you needed to hear.

You are left to wallow and mope in your gloom.

.

.

Jake is awake. Broken and bruised but alive.

Left to deal with the aftermath, the pieces of his crew, with the ever loyal Lineman by his side.

Forces himself to push on when all he wants is to curl up in a ball somewhere. Put on a brave face because what else can he do? Recollect his thoughts, rethink his strategy.

Lineman and Lightning Choi are very little comfort to Jake during these hours. Even as both their loud personalities fill in the silence, camaraderie building between them by the day, Jake feels fragile. Stretched thin and strained.

Regardless, he plasters on his plastic smile. The one he used to wear when he was looking for Sinu and trying to hold on to his sanity.

Funny how life comes full circle.

In his heart and head, he knows that all his focus should be on getting stronger, on saving his crew.

But your latest text, left on read and left hanging, haunts him.

.

.

The Wanted posters capture your attention and snap you out of your mood.

'What the...?''

Pictures of your friends pinned up in the convenience store. Bounties in stark black font show beneath their faces.

You abandon your goods, your treats and pick-me-ups mid purchase and make your way to Big Deal Street as quickly as you can.

Navigating public transport and running until you're panting and out of breath and sweat blurs your vision.

Everywhere is shuttered and closed.

.

.

Everything Jake does, tastes, drinks is tinged with bitterness.

Nevertheless, a routine forms and with each passing day he feels more like himself.

Determination returns.

He trains alongside Lineman even though Lightning Choi insists that he can't teach Jake anything.

Feels his strength returning and muscle growing. Busies himself with preparation in all forms.

“Here,” Jake sets down fresh cooked ramyeon in front of Lineman who looks up at him in surprise. “Eat up. You need it with all your training,”

Lineman wells up with gratitude, “Boss!”

It's a simple meal.

Packaged noodles Lineman has had thousands of times before but it's the best thing he has ever tasted.

.

.

In return, Lineman does something for Jake.

He's not sure it's the right thing to do at first, but anyone with eyes can see Jake moping around like a lovesick puppy.

He extends the reaches of his network.

Calls in long owed favours, reconnects to people in his old Monster Crew, people he trusts that won't spill his whereabouts. Asks everyone to keep an eye out, keep their ear to the ground.

Gold is struck when Lineman manages to locate Jerry.

Encouraged by agreement from Lua, who has stayed in contact with the No.2, that this is what the boss needs-

Lineman sets forth his plan.

.

.

“Boss?” Lineman knocks on Jake's bedroom door, a makeshift backroom full of cobwebs with a rickety sleeping cot.

Where Jake currently lies, face illuminated by his phone.

Lineman refrains from rolling his eyes. Probably going through his texts again.

The guy thought he was being subtle, but it's obvious as hell whenever he's looking at past messages with you. It's the only time a genuine smile graces his face before it inevitably turns forlorn.

“Hmm?” Jake clicks the screen off and sits up as Lineman pokes his head around.

“You got a sec?”

“Sure thing.”

“Ok.” Linemans head disappears again.

There's some minor commotion behind the door. Hushed voices squabbling and-

The door cracks open again and you step through.

.

.

When you got the call from Lineman, you leapt at the chance of seeing Jake again. To see that he's ok with your own eyes.

Give him a piece of your mind for icing you out, probably under some misguided sense of chivalry.

For not explaining a single thing to you and keeping you in the dark even as this huge shit storm rained down on him.

Worse of all, the audacity for leaving you on read.

Unfortunately, at seeing Jake-

The bruises, now mottled green and yellow, the cuts and scratches littering his skin, body bandaged and tender, the way his eyes have lost their light.

-Everything you planned to say and wanted to say goes out the window.

And you burst into tears.

Lineman, taking that as his cue, clicks the door shut.

.

.

Jake is stuck somewhere between elated and miserable.

You're here? You're really here?

But fuck. You're here.

Caught in this chaos.

When he thought he had managed to at least protect you if no one else, you show up when he's at his most powerless.

Then your lip quivers, and your nose lets out a telltale sniffle and-

Shit.

None of that matters.

Jake tries for a smile of his own but feels his own lips turning down.

“What you crying for, dummy?” Tone aiming for jovial, his own voice betrays him and cracks at the last syllable.

A small voice in your head is outraged. Who exactly is he calling a dummy, has he even seen the state of himself.

But you don't move, stay standing by the door, staring as the tears come thick and fast.

Until-

Jake opens his arm, an invitation, and you throw yourself at him.

He winces feeling your weight collide into his body and disturbing his injuries. Luckily your arms coming to hug him around the neck quickly dulls the pain.

He embraces you, one arm holding you close and other hand stroking your hair while telling you it's fine, he's fine, everything's ok.

God. He didn't even realise how much he missed you until you're here. Even the scent of your hair, the feel of your clothes.

Nevermind being able to touch you and hold you.

“Don't you dare ditch me again,” you growl into his shoulder.

Jake opens his mouth, about to argue-

Then you squeeze him tight, lips brushing along his skin and all fight leaves him.

“Ok.”

.

.

The initial reunion is sweet. Glued at the hip once more, one never seen without the other.

You forgive Jake with little drama and he is extra attentive. If he's not next to you then he seeks out your eyes in every moment, every scenario.

Quietly checking you're ok, you're happy. That this situation isn't more than you can handle.

When your eyes meet his, your face lights up and you give him a smile that melts his heart and all his defences.

“I will go with you anywhere,” you tell him one night, sitting on some dusty stairs.

“I know,” he grins.

Realistically, it's a problem. The other problem is that he always wants you with him too.

.

.

However.

The patience from others is short lived.

Lineman is pleased to have his leader back. See the bounce in Jake's step, the grin on his lips that reaches his eyes.

And who is Lightning Choi to get in the way of young love?

Watching you two laughing together, talking in hushed tones, sharing inside jokes warms his heart

Except.

You and Jake are a thorn in his side.

The incessant giggling is annoying. The constant whispering is distracting.

“Get a room!” He shouts over one day, at the end of his rope when Lineman mishears an instruction and ends up face planting.

That did the trick. Both of you avert your gaze and blush furiously.

Hmph. Young idiots in love.

.

.

“You're leaving for Gangnam tomorrow?” You ask, lying beside Jake and resting your head on his shoulder.

“The First Affiliates,” he confirms, clipped and tense.

With D-Day drawing closer, Jake has grown more on edge. Doubt creeping in if he's strong enough to infiltrate and reach Jinyoung Park. Even with the temporary alliance with Daniel Park, he's not sure if it's enough.

After all, the last team up with Charles Choi should have proved sufficient.

With 1A, Jake has given you information on a need to know basis. Kept the details light lest the worry extends to you. Despite his best efforts, you're concerned.

Although, for other selfish reasons.

You prop yourself up on your elbow and face him.

“You said you're not going to ditch me again.”

“Huh?”

“You said!” You jab at his chest with your free hand. “You said you wouldn't ditch me again. No matter what happens.”

Jake pulls a face, and it's one you recognise as regretting his words. Weighing up if being together is worth the potential danger you're put in and trying to worm his way out.

You cut off his spiralling thoughts with another jab and scowl at him. “Promise, asshole.”

His eyebrows shoot up in affront, “Who you calling asshole?”

With one swift movement, he flips you over. You lie flat on his back as he smirks down at you.

“Don't distract me, asshole.”

“It's not my fault you're getting distracted,” and the cocky little shit has the audacity to wink at you.

Ugh. You're serious and he's treating this like a joke. This position is also causing your thoughts to run away with itself.

“Jake,” your gaze dips down to his lips and you angle your face up to his.

He peers down, half-lidded and playful.

“Yes?” He inches closer.

“Stop it.”

"Stop what?” And closer.

“Promise me,” you murmur, lips gently brushing against his. Tips of your noses grazing, his hair falling out of place and breath, minty and sweet on your skin.

“I promise.”

Jake pulls back, enough to look into your eyes. Searches and searches, warm brown eyes boring into yours for what feels like an eternity.

Then finally-

Finds what he's looking for.

And he kisses you, hard. Pours everything, his heart, his hopes, fears and doubts, into the one kiss.

.

.

Jake finds Jinyoung but loses Samuel.

Finds out more than he expected about Samuel’s background. Pieces together his background with their falling out, his complexes. At least Jake is able to understand him a little more.

Jerry is safe, if not further wounded from his fight with the Fifth Affiliates - no, with Hostel.

But he's safe. So are Brad and Jason and Lua.

Overall, he considers it a success even if it's middling at best.

.

.

Jake has promised you.

Yet-

He wonders if some promises are better to break.

He thinks it would break you too. A little. In a way that you can recover from, he lies to himself.

He opens his mouth, wanting to ask Lua a favour, a huge goddamn favour. Maybe she can be the one that tells you.

Jake would be indebted to her forever. Probably get eaten alive by the guilt, but surely it's the kind thing to do.

Lua glares at him before he even gets a word out. It's the most angry she has ever looked.

Jerry is the one who responds. “Don't you dare, Jake.”

.

.

The thing is, there might never be the right place and right time. At least not in Jake's foreseeable future when there's danger lurking around every corner.

He had initially assumed you and him weren't meant to be, life destined to run on different paths. Had given up at first, when you were both just kids, then given a sliver of hope when you met again.

Except isn't that worse than having no hope at all. To get a taste, a glimpse of what he could have?

He has tried to be so good, so selfless.

A good son and a good friend and a good leader. Tried to give everything his all and come up short and weak.

But for you, it never really mattered. You didn't want him to be anything but himself. Didn't care that he was Gapryong Kim's son or Big Deal No. 1.

With you - it's painfully uncomplicated. Even as all other areas of his life crumble.

You're still the right person. Even if nothing else had been right or felt right, you did.

You do.

And in the end, isn't that all that really matters?

.

.

Jake lets his selfishness take over.

Watches you from the doorway, pacing back and forth and is surprised you haven't worn a path into the floorboards.

Reasons with himself that he deserves this, deserves you. Thinks that he would go insane if he doesn't allow himself this.

This one thing, the most precious thing.

Something he held back and repressed for years. Putting everything but himself and his happiness first.

He's weak. He's simple. He wants to, needs to give in and he wants to be happy.

“I'm back,” he calls over, and your face snap to his in shock.

You ignore his new scars and fresh bandages. It doesn't matter because he's here. He's come back to you.

Jake opens his arms, an invitation, and you take one step, two, three-

And throw yourself at him. Clinging on. Feeling his skin, his body against yours.

“I was worried.” You say, voice muffled into his t-shirt.

“I can tell,” Jake is grinning. Whenever he thinks he may never smile again, you always tease it out of him.

“Don't make fun of me,” you say, lifting your head and frowning up at him

“Sorry.” And he is. For a lot.

Jake gently grips your chin once more, angling your face towards his.

He wonders how he managed to resist for so long, impressed at his own control because how could he ever say no when you look at him like this.

(He knows he looks at you like this too. Seen pitying glances from Lua and heard sniggers from Sinu.)

Jake surges forward.

Captures your lips with his, feels your body turning stiff with surprise and then-

Feels you sag with relief, with happiness, with pleasure. Melting and leaning forward, seeking out more.

His free arm winds around your waist and pulls you close. Pressing the lengths of your body together and promising never to let go again.

.

.

During Jake's worst days, he didn't think he would have the privilege of growing old.

No family of his own. And though you were just friends, instead of a faceless partner, he would still imagine it was you by his side and the kids were the perfect mix of you and him.

Dark thoughts would turn to lamenting letting you slip through his fingers. Thinking about what could have been.

On his best days, he dreamt of growing old with you.

In time, Jake will come to know that fate will be kinder to him, his dreams will become a reality.

From the start you've always been the right person, at the right time, at the right place.

[darby-rowe]

18+ | nsfw | mdni young!sub!coriolanus snow x fem!dom!reader cw sub coryo, reader in lingerie, slight degradation & humiliation, mommy kink, premature ejaculation, not proofread based on this ask. -- hope you like it, anon!

“And here’s the third set I bought,” you say as you re-enter the bedroom, wearing a baby-pink lingerie set adorned with tiny bows and ribbons. You stand in front of Coriolanus, showing off your body in ways that you know will make him tick. You witness in real time his control slipping away, as prior to your little fashion show, you had ordered Coryo to not touch you nor himself under any circumstance. You have to suppress a smirk as you watch him grip the bed sheets, his mind switching between spreading his legs or crossing his legs, as either position brought him great discomfort.

You twirl for him, revealing how the lingerie set hugged the contours of your body so perfectly. “What do you think, honey?” you ask, your voice dripping with innocence as if you have no idea of the effect your body had on Coriolanus.

But you know. You know damn well.

Coriolanus swallows hard. “You look wonderful,” he chokes out, fidgeting on the bed. “That’s a very pretty color on you, my dear. You have quite the eye for… l-lingerie,”

You beam at him. “Why thank you! I definitely think my boobs look the best in this set, don’t you think?” You cup your breasts and lean forward so Coriolanus could fully view their shape. You know exactly what you’re doing.

You can tell that Coriolanus is close to losing his composure, letting your eyes flick down to his crotch to marvel at the outline of his painfully hard erection. You hum with delight as you knead at your breasts to prolong Coriolanus’s agony. “Don’t my boobs just look sooo good, baby? You wanna touch ‘em real quick?”

Coriolanus’s legs twitch as a shaky hand slowly advances towards your breasts, which you obviously swat away with a giggle. “You really thought I was gonna let you touch my tits?” you tut. “No baby. Not right now,”

Coriolanus begins to pant, his mind going dumb with desperation. “Please,” he whines. “Please let me touch you,”

You stand back up, folding your hands behind your back so your chest pops out fully. “Please what, baby? Please what?”

He swallows hard once more, his breath shaky. “Please… mommy, p-please let me touch you. I need to touch you, mommy,”

Aw, what a pathetic, needy little boy Coriolanus is. The way his body trembles – so jittery – at the thought of touching you; running his hands all over your body, cupping your breasts and ass, running his tongue down your pelvis to your soaking wet folds, and then finally pumping his cock so deep inside your cunt that your cervix is sore for days. And you are denying him of that fantasy just because you find it fun.

“I have one more set to show you, baby – just be patient,” you coo as you leave the bedroom to change your lingerie. You then re-enter wearing a maroon-colored set, complete with a thong, stockings, and a bra that barely covers your breasts.

Coriolanus looks like he’s about to lose his fucking mind. You were so sexy, so fuckable, and all he wanted to do was bury his aching hard dick deep inside your tight cunt. You make sure to go extra slow this time with showing off the lingerie, hearing how Coriolanus���s panting turns to frustrated grunts and whimpers. You mold your hands against the contours of your body, running them up your sides and over your breasts.

“How’s this one, bunny?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Mmmng, fuck, mommy I can’t take it,” Coriolanus whimpers, his legs fidgeting as he tries to deal with the throbbing in between his legs. “Wanna– wanna fuck you so hard, and come all over your lingerie,”

You blow air out of your mouth in a half-chuckle. “You must be losing your mind if you think for one second that I’m letting you blow your load all over this set. This wasn’t cheap,”

“Sorry,” he stutters, his hips making small circles. “Mommy, it hurts. My cock hurts. So hard,”

You place your hands on the bed as you lean in close towards his face, staring him deep in his pretty blue eyes. “You have no idea how hot it is that you get so hard just from staring at me,” you purr, and you swear you could feel the heat of his arousal emitting from between his legs. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Mommy’s pretty little bunny, just squirming and whining because his dick is so hard. I bet you’d love it if you could bury your cock deep inside my warm, wet, tight cunt,”

Coriolanus just whines. “Mommy, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” his voice comes out in tiny whimpers. You swear he’s on the verge of tears, his panting growing quicker. “I wanna fuck your pussy. Feel you squeezing on my cock. Please, please, I wanna fuck you, mommy. I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you…!”

It’s almost as if you don’t have to put in any effort in this relationship at all as you watch Coriolanus buck his hips and mewl pathetically as a wet spot appears on his pants, and the sight of him giving into his dirty thoughts is so fucking hot.

“Aww, baby,” you coo, tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear. You place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’ll get to fuck me next time, I promise,”

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