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mandowifey · 9 months

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Exhume

Miguel O'hara x Reader

This is part of a nonlinear story.

Warnings: This has multiple changing POV's (Im trying here), PwP, dark!Miguel, captive reader, stockholm syndrome, NSFW, dead dove, this has officially become 'dub con' territory. Au events, following along the movie SORTA. Reader is referred to as she/her pronouns.

Lil warning: this was hastily written in different points of the past couple months. I wanted to release it as is and not over edit the work I put in. The next chapter(s) will be more refined. Enjoy the slop LOL

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The space behind Miguel's eyes throbs as Jessica speaks up. Not that he hadn't found kinship with the woman before everything, but lately, he'd been irritable more than usual. While he tried to conceal it and bury himself away in his work, of course, his infuriatingly perceptive companion would notice.

His patience was wearing thin. He didn't mind the company before, but now that he had you, he wanted time to check the cameras. More than once, he'd caught you attempting to break loose or creatively end your life. Keeping you alive meant being attentive, and right now, Jessica was making that difficult.

"Miguel, are you alright?"

What kind of answer could he really give?

'No, I'm exhausted trying to maintain the multiverse while simultaneously covering the fact I have lost my mind and am holding a young woman hostage in my loft.'

Instead, he sighs and drops his shoulders. "Yes, Jess, I'm fine-"

"You aren't, I know you. I know when you're hangry, or moody or brooding, or when you are in need of your 'medicine'. This isn't fine." The woman folds her arms just below her bossom, against the swell of her belly. Miguel had congratulated her somewhat bitterly when she told their group.

Gritting his teeth, he pawed his face before he looked at her. "What do you want me to say?" Miguel snipped, a flash of red glinting in those onyx orbs. Jess seemed unphased and stood her ground with a frown.

"Just tell me what's going on. You know me, anything that's troubling you, I'll help." Her voice changed, adopting something acute to motherly. Jessica was by no means a soft woman before, but pregnancy had upset the balance of her hormones and now, sometimes, her rough exterior broke to show the gentle soul nestled within.

Miguel watches her, catching her gaze before averting his eyes shamefully. "It's nothing you can help with." He turned the broad canvas of his back to her, staring at the array of holoscreens above the control board. His fingers itched to press the code to the loft, wanting to check on you. He typically watched off and on in five minute intervals, but with Jess standing and practically breathing down his neck, he couldn't.

The woman tilts her head at the vague response, her brows raised behind her yellow glasses. Persistence was one of her strong suits.

"Try me."

Time ticked down like sand through an hourglass. Dragging, unyielding in its slow descent. You struggled to amuse yourself now. Tv, YouTube, baking, none of it worked anymore. You felt compelled to do something with your time but couldn't determine what. Puzzles became boring now that you'd completed each one three times. Sometimes, you cleaned and took things apart just to put it back together.

All this time, locked in a tower.

You started to feel bad for zoo animals.

As your mind began to drift away, so did your resolve. Instead of dreading his return, you looked forward to it. In the morning following your break, you had almost begged Miguel to stay home with you. Your hands ached to feel the weight of his face between them. Your lungs missed the way he compressed you. Miguel left you yearning for more, especially after the evening you had consented his touch.

Instead of sleeping the day away, you turn music loud on the speakers and close your eyes. It wasn't much, but you imagined yourself on a stage, dancing in an empty amphitheater. Shy ministrations became wild as you lost yourself in the fantasy. You were having fun, feeling almost childish in your amusement. Miguel had never confirmed your suspicions, but you knew he had the place rigged with cameras.

Part of you hoped he enjoyed the show - as silly as it was.

You spun and twirled, throwing yourself over the chair and couch, dramatically flinging yourself off the furniture and laughing as it became less of a dance and more of a mosh pit. A sensation of freedom and peace washed over you, taking you off your feet with each lunge and jump. Arms out, you did circles on the coffee table before falling backward off of it and onto the plush couch. As the song faded, your eyes opened at the ceiling, and your smile began to fade.

Nausea hit you like a truck.

Even with the room spinning, you scrambled and found your way to the kitchen trashcan. Knocking it to the ground along with yourself, you shoved your face into it just in time to vomit. Lunch - a sandwhich and chips - mostly digested and not nearly as enjoyable as it was going down, fell from your mouth in violent, painful heaves. Sweat from your wild dance routine now mingled with the sweat of being sick. Beads traced down your forehead and temple as you puked again, your shoulders bunching.

A fever rocked through you, aching to the bone. Coughing, you gasp for air as your eyes water. Lesson learned: Don't mosh pit in the living room. You wait on the cold tile floor until the nausea passes. Drawing upwards, you fix the trash can and groan as you get woozy. Bracing a hand on the island, you wobble towards the bedroom, having to go slow and lean your weight against the nearest surface.

Once you reach the bathroom, you turn the cold water on and keep the lights out. Undressing was impossible now that your limbs felt like cement blocks. As you climb in, you lay on your side as the shower rains down onto you. With your eyes closed and fever addled brain not working, you don't notice the steam rising off your body.

"A... girlfriend?"

Jessica looked skeptical with her hips tilted in the opposite direction of her head. A frowned pinched in her face, and nose slightly crinkled. Miguel was a lot of things, but she had assumed that after all he'd been through, he lost interest in companionship. Though, it would explain why he'd been ducking out of missions and avoiding any talk about it. Her shoulders relaxed as she acted like she made sense of it in her head.

"Well, I- I mean, that's great." Her skepticism was replaced with a genuine smile. "That's pretty big, I won't tell anyone." She laughed and rested a fist on her hip. Before Miguel could begin saying thanks, she cut in; "If you tell me about her. I want details. Is she cute? Is she local? A Gwen?" A grin stretched across her features as she drew in closer, the other spider staring at her with a confused and somewhat uncomfortable expression.

Something beeped rapidly, and Lyla came into view near him. "Miguel, there's something wrong." Her voice chirped in his ear. Jessica looked between the two, her brows raising. "Multiverse? Anomally?" She was ready to spring into action. Miguel shut down the console, and his mask reformed over his face. "No, I'll be back tomorrow." He jumped from the platform and landed noisily on his feet. The man took off into a sprint, tearing past Jess and vanishing out the door.

Once gone, Jessica stood in silence. While the gears churned in her head, she frowned, knowing Miguel was lying.

With the loft situated at the tip of the tower, Miguel typically would ride the elevator up. Lyla had brought it to his attention that something was seriously wrong with you, and his instincts had him ferociously clawing his way up the side of the building. Pieces of cement and glass falling behind him as he tore himself upward, powerful shoulders and biceps flexing as he propelled on. Anything could have happened to you, and his mind went to the darker extremes.

After just a few moments, he crawled onto the balcony and ripped the door hard enough to break the lock. The force he used to tear the sliding glass door open caused an entire panel to shatter on impact as he walked inside. His mask pulled back, exposing wild red eyes and furrowed brows.

"Y/N?"

Miguel's sensitive ears picked up on the sound of the shower, and he cleared the living room in a single jump. A sweet smell tickled his nose, and he recoiled slightly, unsure what he was smelling. More panic pricked at his guts as he felt the desire to nest and protect you grow. "Y/N!" He barked, stepping into the bathroom and looking at your clothed, soaking form in the tub. "Dios- what are you doing?" He withdrew his gloves and felt the ice cold water. Hissing, he turned the shower off and dropped to his knees.

"Hey, hey," his voice softened, his burning red irises fading to brown as he delicately tried to lift and move you. As his bare hands touched you, he was stunned at the sheer amount of heat radiating off your body. "Hey!" He snapped, feeling a familiar dread building in him. Miguel was suddenly back in that alternate universe, watching everything fall apart and his daughter dying in his arms. That helplessness returning, realizing something was seriously wrong with you.

"C'mon, come on. Open your eyes, you're okay. You're okay." He pulled you into his arms and lap, cradling your soaked body against his. "Look at me, please. Please." His voice tightened, and a lump formed in his throat. Seeing you so pale and limp made him uneasy. His fingers press to your throat, feeling for a pulse. When you cough, he startles and stares down at you.

"There you are."

"Miguel.." You croaked, your throat raw from puking.

"Yeah, I'm here."

He was standing slowly, keeping you bridal style in his strong arms. "I missed you." You smiled, eyes still closed as you tucked your face into his chest. He felt his heart pound, heat rising to his cheeks as he took you to the bed and peeled your saturated clothes off. "You did?" He asked, flicking his eyes to your peaceful and tired expression. Miguel watched as you smiled and nodded, your little hands reaching to find him blindly. He leans close, pushing kisses to your palms and rubbing his face into them. A whine builds in his throat, relief hitting him now that you were conscious.

Miguel stood and tucked you naked into the bed. You curled up, still feverish but comfortable in the warmth. He runs back and forth from the kitchen, fetching you water and saltines, along with a small bin from the bathroom in case you need it. When you slumped and your breathing slowed, Miguel climbed into the bed behind you and curled his massive frame around yours, his own eyes feeling heavy. That sweet aroma persisted, making his heart pound and bones itch. There was a lingering desire to tuck you up somewhere high and far away, to build you a nest of webs and keep you from the world-

"Did you like it?"

Your voice pulled his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

Squirming yourself into his chest, you yawn and sag into the pillows. "My dance." You sounded dreamlike. Miguel was confused but pushed his face into your neck as he squeezed around you gently.

"I loved it, kid."

It was only nightmares in your slumber.

Your body, swelling and growing more until you burst. Spiders crawled out of your belly and along your skin, chittering as they began to feast on your skin. You were helpless to watch, sobbing and frozen, suspended in red, vibrant webbing.

"You're doing so well, you'll be ready for the next clutch soon."

His voice came from the dark, peering red eyes and a silhouette against the inky black. You sob and cry for help, but he only watches as your offspring take bite after searing bite.

"Such a good mother, Y/N."

As you sob, he says your name again.

Then again-

"Y/N!"

Blackness becomes light, and light gives way to the familiar face of Miguel. You gawk up at him, aware your heart was pounding. Miguel cupped his hand against your cheek, brown eyes wide and concerned as he leaned over you to check your eyes. "You alright? Bad dream?" He leaned closer, knocking his forehead to yours and sighing. "Thought you were a goner." He mumbled, his breath fanning your lips.

Everything in you felt electric. You recalled getting sick and stumbling into the shower, but you hadn't been sure what followed. It was difficult to discern your memories with him so close. He smelled differently to you now, too. His scent was stronger, comforting in the sense that you had a strong urge to push your face into him and inhale.

So you did.

Miguel jerks with surprise as you sink into his chest, clutching at him and breathing in. The smell was borderline hypnotic. You already had begun the process of crumbling for him, and now you were sinking even further. A large hand touches your back and rubs gently, uncertain. The change of heart confused him. "That fever really cooked your brain, princess." You smile against his shoulder and rub your cheek into his collar bone.

"I had a fever?" You lean back, looking up at him and admiring the strong line of his jaw. Miguel tilts, looking down at you. The eye contact makes your heart throb and heat rocket to your groin. "You were burning up when I found you. You had dragged yourself into the shower and passed out. Lyla picked up on the dip in your vitals." His thick fingers pet through your hair, dragging along your scalp and coming to rest at the base of your neck. The concern in his tone was palpable.

More warmth pooled on your insides, your heart quickening and loins catching fire. Miguel caught your scent, and his nostrils flared. At this distance, you could see when his pupils stretched and blew out. He drew a shaky breath and curled his fingers tighter against your neck. This reaction from him was new. Certainly he got riled up when it came to fucking you, but something was different. Your scent was amplified tenfold, and he could hear the patter of your fast pulse beneath your skin.

Jaw aching, Migule suddenly released your neck and tore himself across the bed. You were left stunned, sitting half obscurred by the think blankets as your captor stumbled out of the bedroom. Slipping out of the bed, you stand and realize how good you felt. It was a strange sensation, like having a really good nights sleep post workout. "Miguel!" You call, hearing him rummaging around. Stepping into the bathroom, you rinse your mouth and brush your teeth before heading out in one of his discarded shirts.

"Shit."

Miguel tossed things from the drawers and looked around. "Miguel?" You ask again, and he swivels to look at you. "Keep back." He warned, his teeth sharp and eyes glowing. One of his hands covered his nose and mouth, trying to keep your scent at bay. Miguel felt it had to be time for another shot. He had no idea you were having the same issue, like a tiger in a cage. All you could see was him, your body tightly coiled, ready to burst. Your skin itched, your bones tightened, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. The both of you stared at each other, wordless and trying to keep composure.

The scent of you was killing him. He could smell your sex and practically taste it with how strong your pheromones wafted over his olfactory sensors. This was different than when he was off his medicine. He wasn't hungry for blood. He was hungry for you. Every part of you calls to him like a lighthouse in the night. He wanted to nestle inside of you and draw your warmth for his own. In the same breath, he felt the powerful urge to breed you, to nest you, and to keep you safe.

His smell was doing almost the same to you. You had woken up with a new set of senses. You could see him better, hear him better, and smell him better. Your skin burned with desire, craving his own against it. An ache grew in your own jaws, the desire to sink your teeth into him and take him as yours, to cover him in your smell and ward off any others. To tell the world he was yours, only yours.

Something broke inside of you both.

Miguel came towards you as you rushed towards him and caught you in his arms. Your limbs wound around him like pythons as your mouths crashed together. The kissing was frantic and sloppy. Teeth against teeth, spit, and blood spilling from burst lips as you both fought tongue to tongue. He moves you backward, knocking you against the fridge and making you grunt into his mouth.

"Baby," you gasp, petting a hand through his thick, dark hair before gripping it like a vice. When you yank his head back, Miguel hisses. His red eyes are wild and teeth bare as he looks at you like an animal in a cage. "Fuck me."

Miguel takes you to the bedroom, bumping into various objects along the way as you devoured one another. He throws you down into the mattress - harder than intended - and you bounce and snarl. Something is different now. You feel alive, you feel *strong.* Baring your own teeth, you shift on all fours, lunging at him with your arms out. The bigger man catches you and throws you down again, and something in the bed cracks.

He descends upon you before you can retaliate. "You're an animal." His voice was breathless, amused as he grabbed your hips and flipped you face down into the mattress. Usually, Miguel controlled his strength to avoid breaking you. But now he grabbed you relentlessly, holding you down as he shoved the shirt up your back. "Gonna act like a wild bitch, I'm gonna fuck you like one." Miguel's voice was heavy with lust, growling out of his chest.

You struggle, but dip your back and widen your knees under you. While your new instincts begged for you to bite and mark him, they also simpered at being put in their place. Cunt leaking, you whine against the blankets. Miguel inhales, savoring your scent as he slaps your ass , claws out. The hit stings, making you lurch forward and shriek. Your own nails dig into the blankets, tearing them as you shove back towards him. Miguel watched the mark bloom on your skin, and he smirked as he cupped your mound and shoved in two fingers.

The heat of your insides is searing, and he gasps, pumping to the knuckle in quick, strong movements. You keen for him, shoving back to meet him as stars burst behind your eyes. "Fuck me, please." You couldn't recognize your own voice. The desire so strong you were certain you'd end up melting into the mattress itself. A chuckle rumbles behind you and you whine at the loss of those thick fingers, though you weren't empty for long. Miguel's cock forces inside, filling every inch of available space within you.

You two groan in tandem, and you shove back to force him to hilt. Miguel grunts, his large, calloused hands grasping your hips to start pumping you on his dick. His dark eyes honed in, watching your tight body swallow his length like it were made for him. The sounds you make are unhinged. Sharp cries mixed with breathless groans as he punches the air out of you. Your mind is white hot, and your cunt sears from the friction of him dragging within you.

"O-oh, o-oh f-f-fuck." You manage to gasp out between thrusts. The sound of your bodies plapping together nearly as loud as your cries.

Miguel grins, teeth flashing as a fist slides up your spine and grips into your hair. Grasping at the root, he curls his digits and yanks. Your face is pulled from the bed and your back in a deep arch as he continues to fuck you. "There's my girl. Look at you." He was panting too, his body wracked with the same heat that ravaged yours.

"I wanna feel you cum, princess." Miguel shifts his weight after a few good thrusts. Forcing your head into the blankets, he leans his weight over you and begins to rock harder. Pummeling your end with each pump, his hips colliding noisily with your ass. You are certain he might break you. Shrieking in response to the new angle, you drool and babble for him, his cock stoking the swelling bubble inside you.

You were babbling to him, pleading for him to stop - possibly from a force of habit - but also begging him to cum inside you. Miguel can't make it, and neither can you. As he collides his dick against the spongey, puckered hole of your cervix, you feel fireworks. Your cunt clenches down around him in a wave of convulsions so hard it nearly forces him out. Miguel holds your hips, no longer thrusting but pushing against you to keep himself nestled deep. The milking of your pussy tugs him over the edge shortly after you.

The hero bucks once more for good measure as he empties inside you. His cum hot and thick, painting your insides and saturating you with his essence. As you both catch your breath, you feel Miguel slip out of you and whine from his absence. Large hands flip you over, and he scoops you up. Settling back and leaning against the headboard, Miguel rests you in his lap. For just a moment you look at one another. Sweaty and flushed from sex.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders as you steal one kiss, then another. Miguel chases your mouth with his own, his hands smoothing over your hips and squeezing before repeating the motion on your ass. "What has gotten into you?" He mutters into your starving mouth. You pause, a hand moving behind his head to grip his hair and yank his head back. Miguel flinches, looking up at you through lidded eyes.

"Aside from you? Nothing." You hum, admiring his jaw and the grooves in his cheeks. "That's funny." His voice was flat, but he did smirk. "Think you can go again, old man?" You release his hair to focus on sitting up on him. Miguel blinks, then nods, his hands back on your hips.

"Good boy."

When you both were fully spent, you laid in his arms. Miguel was watching the ceiling, listening to you as you rambled about trips you took outside the city. It all felt strange to him now. Your scent, your cooperation, the way you touched and looked at him. He couldn't place what happened - assuming maybe you had finally snapped. But that wouldn't account for your smell.

Breathing in through his mouth, he tasted your pheremones and felt his chest twinge again. He could feel those urges from before growing; to nest you, feed you, and protect you. Then, the pieces started to fall in place.

You getting sick.

The change in your smell.

The change in your behavior.

How you ached for him.

Miguel's mouth pressed to a thin line as he ran over all the facts again. Then again, and again. No matter how he tried to explain it, there was only one answer. His dark eyes flicked down to you, watching as you rubbed your face into his chest and sniffed at him. He watched your mouth open and the glint of your newly growing fangs as you nip at him. Miguel feels his heart begin to race, recognizing now that you were changing too.

There was no other explanation.

"Miguel? Did you hear me?"

The pound of his heart drowned your voice out. This had been what he wanted, hadn't it? To fill the void his daughter left? To find new happiness and move on, to have another chance?

Panic was building now. Everything was uncharted territory. You were changing, pregnant with his child(ren?) and he was going to be a father again. Miguel didn't register your little hands on his cheeks or the way you continued to say his name. All he could hear was the screams of people around him as their universe caved in. He could feel his daughter's weight fading from his arms, leaving him empty. Now you were pregnant and everything could go wrong.

How did he take care of a pregnant woman without getting caught?

Where would you go for check ups? It wasn't like an OBGYN worked in the tower. There were too many holes in his plan now, he would be risking keeping you to himself. He hadn't thought this part through. Now he could potentially lose you both - not to mention the complications of carrying mutant spider spawn.

"Miguel." Your mouth presses to his.

Eyes widening, he saw you. You sat on top of him, eyes big and face concerned. Miguel clasped your hips and held you close. "Where'd you go?" You ask, rubbing his chest. He stares up, watching for a moment before he sighs and takes your wrist. Pulling your hand to his mouth, he kisses your palm before pressing it to his cheek. "Long day at work, is all."

He knew lying to you wouldn't work for long. No doubt you'd realize sooner rather than later that your body was no longer just your own.

Miguel could cross that bridge when you got to it.

"I'm sorry." You mumble, shifting off of him. "Let's get some rest then. We can shower in the morning." Nestling yourself into his side, you stretch an arm over the expanse of his stomach and squeeze him gently. Miguel wrapped an arm around you and squeezed gently, his eyes still fixated on the ceiling.

It was going to work out.

It had to.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara headcanons #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara headcanon #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader

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aroacesigma · 15 days

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YIPPEE ok . funni rhythm game . project sekai. its got miku . the only important background lore here is: there's kind of another world called "sekai" that is made from either strong emotions, or the shared will/dreams/desire/etc of a group. there are 5 units/groups/whatever. 2 of the sekais in the game were made by One Person. one's the clown group dw abt that. but Mafuyu !! fuyu made her own sekai. i thiiiiiink out of her desire to "disappear"?

anyway. mafuyu asahina. silly lil girlie. she is so depressed man. her mother sucks and is constantly pushing her to be the perfect straight-A student and train to be a doctor, and in public fuyu DOES put up that facade (in-game she has two very distinct voices - a more upbeat, happy one, and this very quiet, almost mumbley-one. in lives she'll use her Public Voice when talking to anyone that isn't of her unit)

so ! fuyu. she wants to make music. and train to be a nurse not a doctor. but her mother is super manipulative and controlling (and thats a theme you see across her cards too. in her first event she's literally depicted as a marionette for example) and really has no real control of her life. and then she meets Niigo. because kanade savior complex go brr

so. nightcord at 25:00, or niigo as they're called in the jp fandom, is made up of Kanade Yoisaki, Mizuki Akiyama, Ena Shinonome, and Mafuyu Asahina. they originally only know each other online (kanade finds fuyu thru her music which kanade notes is very dark and depressing, and later resolves to create a piece of music that will make mafuyu smile and bring back some joy into her life. tbh idk abt the other two i uh. am bad at reading lmao) but !! they talk on Nightcord (its discord) until they all meet in the Sekai. which is fucken EMPTY. there is NOTHIN THERE. and its Mafuyu's Sekai. so given the Empty Void that has been remarked upon that it's very easy to get lost and never find your way out .......yeah

so . as the events progress you get to see mafuyu come out of her shell more as she hangs out with niigo. her mom is. Not Happy (when is she ever smh) and in one event her mom even throws out her music equipment and laptop (iirc) claiming that it's a "distraction", and tells her to stop hanging out w/ niigo bc they're "bad influences" (or smth). mafuyu, obv, does Nyat do this and continues talking to the others.

a few events later mafuyu finally reaches her breaking point and stands up to her mother . and then promptly flees to live with kanade after everything she had to deal with. so now kanade & mafuyu live together ! but mafuyu rlly is making progress like despite it all, in newer cards/depictions you can even see light in her eyes !!!

but yeah shes . shes my silly. and so like. Gender to me. her and mizuki (canon transfem/nb person btw. go mizuki go!!!!!!!!) got a duet version of the song "Villain" which is literally abt bein fucken. trans. u can't just put the Canon Transgirl in with the Transmasc Vibes Character in a Song About Being Trans, man /j

i lov her tho shes doin her best. she kind of lost all sense of identity due to having to be what her mother wanted her to be, and niigo is slowly helping her figure out who she is, not who her mother wants her to be. its very nice

compared to the other stories niigo's is. way more deep and intense. but ! they all have their Things :3

anyway yeah im insane abt mafuyu asahina this has been my tedtalk i need to go to bed

OHHH she sounds awesome fuck yeah :) very glad that she is happier these days...love that . i really do need to play project sekai honestly i tried one time but i got too used to the enstars format for rhythym games and i sucked absolute balls at it. anyway gn bff <3

#asks #tasukete-eirin

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ghost-orca · 1 month

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Channeling Your Love; Chapter 1

Mind you, this is video game Joel, everything that happens in this story means the pandemic started in 2013 so all the songs are "canon" until after September of 2013, IM SORRY PEDRO PASCAL FANS!!!

Description; You're a music radio show host for Jackson with a hidden past in the apocalypse. What more can I say?

Warnings: Future smut, for now its just meet cute fluff; PTSD for future chapters: it gets real dark guys, this is my first time writing Fanfic so bare with me....

“Alriiight Jackson, it's time to rise and shine! How about we start our day with some positive energy and a good old classic, Conga by Gloria Estefan!” The music playing loudly through the living room, Joel was immediately irritated. “Christ” he mumbled

“Ellie! Turn the radio off!”

“Why?” she yelled back

“I hate this song, it's too damn loud.” He replied

“Then leave! I'm having fun!”

“Ellie, plea-”

“Nope! Get grumpy somewhere else, old man.”

Joel sits for a minute, shaking his head “I have had enough of this” he decides, picking up his jacket making his way to the door.

“Where are you going? I was just joking when I said to leave and the song is almost over y’know!” Ellie yells out shaking her body along with the music

“I’m going to that damn radio station, gonna tell them how I feel about their early morning music choices and hopefully change their mind”

Ellie scoffed “good luck ruining everyone's fun dinosaur.” continuing to dance along to the music

Joel scoffed back at her and exited their shared home

After a five minute long uphill walk, Joel spots the radio station Tommy had told him about, stomping upwards to have a word with the radio show host. He knocked loudly on the front door before entering, trying to appear polite at least to have the upper hand, but after a minute of no answer he decided to let himself in, walking up a narrow staircase, following the sound of music, not caring what song was playing even if it was something he liked

“You can ring my beeellllllll” Was heard reverberating through the walls walking up, finally entering the studio apartment that connected to the radio station room with a glass wall to suppress noise from the outside world. The first thing he sees is you, shaking your hips and ass along to the song, eyes closed never noticing him there. Looking at you he recognized seeing you around town, thinking you were surprisingly fit for someone who doesn't go on patrols, realizing why you were as he watched you. He couldn't help but focus his attention on your ass, the way your hips moved along with the rhythm.

“Shit” he mumbled to himself, lost in thought looking at you as you swayed by yourself, like no one was watching.

You open your eyes for a moment noticing the man standing in your studio apartment, immediately freezing in your tracks. “How long has he been standing there?” you thought to yourself, chest heaving, making unbroken eye contact with your stranger. Oh god, he's handsome too you thought, cheeks reddening.

Joel sees you see him, witnessing you completely stop what you were doing, and gulps.

“Keep going.” He says, feeling rude for interrupting you, but mostly embarrassed, thinking you’d caught him in the act of leering

“W-what?” You respond, having trouble hearing through the glass panel separating the two of you and loud music, gesturing to the glass and record player so he could understand.

Joel understood, and got all the more embarrassed, huffing towards the ground to gain some courage

“Keep dancing.” He says louder now, and does an awkward little shimmy before pointing to you to make his message more clear. His cheeks start growing red from further embarrassment. “The hell did I do that for?” he questioned himself quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You understand him, but the song was almost over at this point, and it's your cue to go back to the live recorder and continue onto the next song. You jolt over to the mic as the final note fades out “Well, ha, that was Ring My Bell from the one hit wonder, Anita Ward everybody! I hope you guys had fun with that one!” You say into the mic, hiding exasperation in your voice. “Up next is-” You look down at your handwritten list of songs scheduled for the day “Last Night by The Strokes!” you announce with fake excitement. You didn't hate the song, but you had just heard it too many times before. Still, it was important for the future to hear as much music as possible as you thought.

Joel is still watching you at this point, impressed by how quick you can turn your heel. You exit the room, into your own studio apartment, facing the man before you, straightening your back and raising your head to meet his hazel green eyes. “Can I help you with something sir?”

“Uh yeah, I um…” Joel felt completely lost, he came here to complain, take out his anger on you, maybe even teach you a thing or two about ‘the real world’, but all those thoughts he had racing up the hill to confront you had muddled after actually seeing you. He didn't know what to say.

“Ash?” you both hear from downstairs, you sighed in relief, recognizing the voice “What's up Eugene?” you yelled down, starting to feel wary of this strange quiet man in your presence.

“Was just checking if you were okay, I saw the door was open so,”

“That's my fault, sorry” Joel yelled down in admission, recognizing Eugene's voice as well, Tommy had introduced the two and grew to respect the old man on patrols with him.

Hearing footsteps up the stairs Eugene enters the room, “Oh hey Joel, didn't know you were a fan of Ash’s station”

“Um, no I'm not, I mean…” Joel pauses, trying to find the right words, “So your name is Ash?” he dodges the question retorting back to you

“No” you respond bluntly “Only Eugene calls me that.”

Eugene looks between the two of you, feeling the uncomfortable energy in the air.

“What do I call you then?” Joel asks, slight frustration he can't control in his voice, trying to stay civil.

“Call me whatever you want, host, radio person, I don't really care” You responded honestly, sensing his frustration, feeling like pushing his buttons. “Why are you here, Joel?”

“Well” he starts “If I’m being honest, I find your music to be obnoxious.”

“It's not ‘my music’, Joel, it's just music, and if you don't like it you can just turn off the radio or cover your ears if your missus appreciates it more than you do.” You have a smug grin on your face, knowing you have the upper hand “Besides” You start “No one else in Jackson has complained to my face about what I decide to play, the first exception being you.” You cross your arms.

Before Joel can say anything, Eugene interrupts “Alright you two, how about I let you just sort this out amongst yourselves. Ash, if you need anything, just gimme a holler. Joel.” he looks at Joel giving him a respectful nod, getting out of there before he can get involved “Thanks Eugene, sorry to worry you.” You wave him goodbye as he books it downstairs out the front door waving back. You're left alone standing with your new ‘acquaintance’ feeling ready for whatever he might throw at you. Joel sighs. “Alright look, first of all I don’t gotta ‘missus’ like you call it, just a very annoying 14 year old who does whatever the hell she wants if it can’t be helped. So you can imagine the strain of dealing with that alone every morning, and then I have to hear the damn Conga song at 9 in the morning trying to enjoy my coffee in peace because it's the only point in the day I can get some time to myself. So forgive me if my much wanted peace and quiet interrupts whatever you have going on here.” You stare at Joel, appreciating his honesty

“What's her name?” you ask. He looks at you in surprise for a second, breaking his avoidance towards you.

“Ellie, uh, her name’s Ellie” He responds

“Pretty” you say, fully taking her name in to get an image of her in your mind. “Why don’t you send her up here sometime so I can take her off your hands in the morning? I’ve been meaning to find a young apprentice who's passionate about helping me with the work I do around here. If she’s got a lot of energy I think this would be perfect for her.”

Joel’s still holding eye contact as you see his eyes widening, taking in the idea. “You don-You don't have to do that really. I love the kid to death but- she can be a real handful honestly.” Joel’s embarrassed at this point, surprised at your compassion to help.

“She sounds like a great kid” you confess, “I can promise you with the work I do she’ll be tuckered out by the time she comes home to you. Plus, with my schedule she’ll be too busy to bother you in the mornings, so you can start enjoying your coffee in peace.”

Joel thinks on it, starting to consider the pros and cons of the idea. “I’ll have to ask her if she’d even want to first.” he replies, it would be nice if she had something productive to keep herself busy he thinks to himself.

“That’s alright, if she wants to she can just stop by whenever she likes. Today even, I’d be happy to start showing her the ropes, whenever she’s ready.” You smile at him, realizing you might’ve just solved the problem between you two, wanting to start things off civilly with this gruff but shy handsome man you were meeting for the first time. “Okay” He agrees, scratching his beard after making his decision. “Great!” You respond “Tell her she can stop by anytime after 9 am and before 9 pm. I’m excited to meet her!”

Joel chuckles, “You don't even know if she’s gonna say yes to this whole thing. Don't get too excited.” he explains.

“Well, based on your description of her, and the fact that she’s 14, I’m guessing she’s feeling pretty bored without much to do around Jackson. Besides helping the community, I'm sure she’d be excited at the idea of a creative outlet.” You say in confidence, smile almost giddy remembering how you felt around the same age. “You got a point there.” he responds, smiling back, blushing at the thought of how cute you look when you're excited.“I’m uh, I’m glad we could talk this out. I’ll go and see her right now.” he starts making his way down the stairs to the doorway.

“Hey Joel!” You speak out, stopping him in his tracks to look up at you, “Don’t be a stranger, stop by sometime to tell me what music I should play for your morning coffee. Or any music, really.” Joel starts to blush again, surprised by you reaching out to him for company.

“I’ll think about it.” he says, knowing he will come back again just to see you dance again when he works up the courage. He waves you goodbye. “Nice meeting you!” You reply “Yeah, You too.” looking up at your pretty little face one more time before leaving. Making his way straight to Ellie to tell her the news.

#joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #Joel Miller #2013 version #video game version #Troy Baker

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blueskittlesart · 1 year

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Never thought about it before but goddamn you're right, Betty would be a MUCH better song story-wise if it was sung by a girl like "Then I saw you dance with him" hanging out with your best friend that you've been pining for for ages and she's dancing with a guy and you can't stand it, can't help how the assumption she doesn't like girls makes you so bitter and angry, but you can see the way she's looking at the guy she's dancing with so you ditch her and go have a fling with another girl, ignoring every time she tries to talk to you, refusing to tell her what she did wrong the entire summer, but the truth is she's always on your mind and you're doing both Betty and this other girl that you refuse to even name wrong in using her to replace Betty, and it also removes the shitty cheating aspect of the song to make it about a repressed, closeted lesbian (Betty) and a less repressed but very frustrated lesbian (the POV character), still sucks for the unnamed girl though. But anyway lesbianism would improve the story part of it so much (I don't mean this in a way of shitting on the original song because it's one of my favourites, it's just lesbians would make it even better)

sorry im going to act insane for a second i PROMISE i am not one of those lesbian taylor truthers i am just a lesbian who loves to relate to music ok please remember this as you read this post i promise i am normal

BETTY IS ABOUT LESBIANISM TO ME. "you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says most times but this time it was true" inez knows the speaker likes girls and can't keep her mouth shut about it. the speaker desperately tries to discredit inez's rumors to everyone EXCEPT betty, who she WANTS to know on some level. "I saw you dance with him" is the inherent pain of being a girl in love with your best friend and watching her dance with a guy and knowing you will never be enough for her. she will always want something you can't give her even though all you've ever wanted is her. the speaker tries to replace betty with another girl and ignores her and betty is suddenly jealous in a way she doesn't understand. while the speaker spends the summer trying to replace betty with another girl and pretend like she doesn't care, betty spends the summer coming to terms with the fact that their friendship meant something more and that she likes girls too. "the worst thing that i ever did is what i did to you" has 2 meanings in my mind, one is the intended meaning of the speaker leaving betty without ever telling her why, but if the speaker is a girl it goes deeper--befriending her & loving her in the first place was the worst thing the speaker ever did, because it leaves her with only two choices: leave betty without explaining and hurt her, or tell betty how she feels and, if betty feels the same way, risk being ostracized by their peers for being gay. (there are lines that allude to betty being under some pressure to not date the speaker--"in front of all your stupid friends," specifically, but "switching her homeroom" could be switching AWAY from the speaker so that she won't be tempted, depending on how you want to interpret it.) one more line that i think is very lesbian is the whole "right now is the last time i can dream about what happens when you see my face again." like. maybe this isn't EXCLUSIVELY a lesbian experience but i think most of us had a tumultuous almost-relationship friendship that never got closure and so we daydream about seeing her again and telling her everything that went unsaid. right. im not the only one who does that right

#asks #this miiiiight just be me projecting like an insane person. but betty is lesbianism TO ME

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waluigisgaybf · 6 months

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Because i sent the ask before seeing the Dark Urge version of the list, here's the adjusted list: 1, 10, 13 or 7. Also the Durge list doesn't have a hobby question but feel free to answer that one too if you want!

I was legit about to answer the Tav one for my Durge before I saw this second ask 👀

Ive actually kind of thought about these a lot and have small little ideas of what I go with so Im def about to use these to solidify and piece together things for me boy- (and will still answer the hobbies one cause Id already typed it but I’ll put it in the tags cause Im incapable of not using SO many words for things.

1.) What circumstances led to your Dark Urge becoming their Class/Subclass?

Nalnor is a College of Swords Bard, the subclass just made the most sense for his style cause hes a show offy hacky slashy type of guy- but subclass aside, when Nal was young he probably realized fairly quickly how much joy he got out of telling storys or playing music, almost anything that would wow a crowd or even just a single person.

Part of its because ever since he was a child, before and after the urge took hold- he had this need for approval and acceptance, so seeing that he had the ability to even just trick people into it made him really stick to it- Once the urge began to take even more of a hold and finally became fully who he was- it brought a new element in, the ability to control someone emotions and reactions with just a simple tune brought him a whole new level of excitement, the power his words could have, to lull people into a fall sense of comfort even before killing them- After the loss of memories and tadpole its come back full circle though, he just really loves singing and humming and playing instrument, and he LOVES moving people with his music and making people smile— and it’s debatable if he can even kind of remember or will remember- but the true actual reason he ever even started humming or singing as a child was because his adoptive mother used to sing before the urge made him kill his foster family and it quickly rubbed off on him.

10.) What motivates your Dark Urge to either embrace or resist the tadpole?

At first he’s really really hesitant and to nervous to fuck with any of it- cause hes already got some weird shit going on in his head- he’s not gonna risk adding anything else, but as “The Dream Guardian” starts showing up more and more- Nalnor slowly kind of starts to trust him and also becomes more desperate to figure out what the fucks going on so he slowly starts using the powers and the tadpole more- once the Astral-touched tadpole is brought up he once again because extremely hesitant because hes literally just figured out who he actually is and who he thinks he wants to be and the thought of becoming even semi Illithid scares the fuck out of him- but the hes slowly realizing it might actually be the only way to make sure his friends hes come to cherish live and are safe- and the fear isnt going away, but hes becoming slowly more tempted to do just to help them all better 😳😳

13.) How does your Dark Urge feel about killing? AND 7.) Did your Dark Urge recall any childhood memories? If yes, how do they feel about the revelations? If no, was it by choice or lack of options?

(Imma try do a two in one answer cause they kinda work together lmao)

He did actually get one of the two in game childhood memories- his first actual murder(s) where he’s standing over the body of his foster family.

It was triggered when Heal was cast on him so he definitely was NOT expecting it, and was NOT happy about it 😳 The details are still so foggy but he remembers he had a sibling, and that his parents were kind and sweet, but he remembers their blood on his hands, the absolute confusion he felt when realizing what he’d done and the terrifying speed in which is guilt subsided and turned into excitement and the looks on their faces. It is not a memory he is happy about, and he cant stop wondering how many other friends or family he may have killed.

Ever since he woke up in that pod he’s been horrified of the joy, excitement, and fulfillment killing fills him with, he struggles greatly especially at first to resist, and catches himself in moments where he swears he didnt feel the urge but definitely acted out on it in some way.

The killing scares him because he wants you to do it so bad and because hes scared of whatever part of him seems to be fighting for control.

Slowly after more shits uncovered and he gets to coping more, he feels less scared of killing, hes more confident he can resist letting it consume him, but still feels this small fear from the satisfaction it brings him each time, and is still quietly scared of it sneaking up on him and consuming him because he cant how much of it feels like its because of Baahl in his blood and how much of it is just- who he is.

#LOTS OF WORDS #I LIKE JUST MAKING UP AND BUILDING CHARACTER SHIT #AND ALSO I LIKE WORDS #BUT HERES THE HOBBIES ONES #4.) What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?#Theres the Obvi music stuff that comes with being a Bard mostly humming or playing instruments to pass the time #He always greatly enjoys coming up with dumb and usually purposefully horrible and while hes drinking #to use later when he feels like being a shit and pushing everyone’s buttons #he likes being an ass with humour and still getting whoever to still smile or get amusement from it.#and not technically a hobby?? but he actually really enjoys and is really good at hair grooming and doing lil hairstyles #He doesnt know where he got this he just kinda realized suddenly he just knew what to do with hair.#Im tempted to decide its cause his mom or someone used to do his hair and showed him how #so he used to always wear his hair in different ways before loosing his memories.#bg3 #My Durge #My Dark Urge #Nalnor #Nalnor Durge #My Tav #technically lmao

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kittendisasterr · 9 months

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I love 1989 with all my heart. the aesthetic, the raw emotions, how it sounds, and I can’t wait for taylor’s version. I’ve been collecting cds since I first heard tim McGraw on the radio and I’ve never strayed from her music. reputation was the first tour I actually got tickets to. my mom got me them for Christmas. It was unforgettable even in the nosebleeds. I will always have a special place in heart for debut, because it’s where my love for taylor started. and reputation was just as special. I know she may never notice me, and I’ve accepted that, im only one of millions of fans. she has always felt like the older sister I never had. I don’t have the closest relationship with my mom, I have three brothers and I’ve never really been good at keeping friends. so I guess that’s why I love taylor so much, she’s the best friend and sister I never had. these last three re-records mean the most to me. I can’t wait for them all. she’s worked so hard to get where she is and I couldn’t be more proud. she’s the one consistent thing in my life. when life gets messy, her music is always there. through the heartbreak, through the tragedy, through the depression, through the eloquent way she encapsulates all the emotions I don’t know how to express, she’s just there. and I’m so grateful for her. even though I may never get to meet her, I’ve always wanted to be one of her dancers. dancing has helped me express myself in the same ways, music has been a way taylor expresses herself. one quote I’ll never forget since the first day I read it, is “I’m not that complicated. My complications come out in my songs. All you have to do to be my friend, is like me.. and listen” and that quote alone brings me comfort and peace. Even though I may never get to meet her, she’s my friend. I’d even say best. if by chance I do ever meet her, I’d know we’re already be friends. and I think that’s beautiful. taylor swift truly is one of one. I would say one of a kind, but she stands alone in that aspect. no one could ever replace her, and no one ever will. I’m grateful just to be alive at the same time she is. I’m sorry about my run on and choppy sentences. I guess you don’t really worry about proofreading when you’re writing from the heart. I just had to put this out here, in case anyone doesn’t know how I feel about taylor, or doesn’t understand why I get offended to people that hate on her, cause how can anyone hate someone so real? maybe it’s fear. or maybe it’s jealousy. I guess we’ll never know. one last thing I wanted to note, is if there’s a one in a million chance taylor sees this, I want her to know how her song “forever winter” impacted me. I struggle with depression and anxiety and bipolar. and I’ve had many attempts on my life, struggles with self harm, and I listen to that song when my thoughts get too loud. it makes me cry but in a good way. It’s almost as if she’s telling me it will be “forever winter if I go.” and that song has truly saved my life. It’s kept me from making really impulsive decisions when I’m upset. I know that even though taylor doesn’t know me, that’s how much she means to me. her melodies have coaxed me out of self loathing spells, and from feeling like no one would care if I go. I have a daughter to live for and so now I only have thoughts, and as much as I wish that those feelings went away and would never come back, that’s not how depression works. taylor helped me accept the darkest parts of myself. she inspires me in her own ways how to get through them. I know this is really long and I’m sure no one will read it. but I wanted to get it off my chest. at this point I just feel like I’m writing in my diary. long story short, I love you taylor. I hope some day I get the chance to meet you.

that’s all for now.

xoxo Melanie

#erastour #taylor swift #quotes #new music #1989 tv #1989taylorswift #mental health

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satorisoup · 4 months

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★ THE AFTER PARTY

⋆ 4 - DIRTY RICH

“we didn’t meet up with you for you to just stand there silent. tell us how it went.” suna says from his seat, where all 3 of your friends sit on your couch in your small apartment.

“shut it, rin.” you retort, the file alisa gave you still clutched in your hands. you take a deep breath before you continue.

“she called me in and went on this whole story about the band, talking about how their fans are complaining. then she mentioned how they had heard of me, you know…” you trail off, still in shock at the offer at your hands.

“and?” osamu chimes.

“she wants to hire me to be their songwriter, and go on tour with them.” you finally explain.

your friends stay silent before atsumu is the first to speak.

“are ya kidding me? that’s fuckin’ amazing!”

“seriously? holy shit, you definitely need to get us tickets now.” suna remarks, before he’s glared at by osamu.

“that’s one hell of an opportunity. are ya gettin payed?” osamu asks.

“yes, id be getting payed along with everything for the tour being compensated.” you answer.

“how much are we talkin?” atsumu eagerly asks.

your eyes flicker up to meet the 3, an almost serious look on your face, trying to hide a smile when you’re answering.

“roughly… 73,141.00 ¥ for the average work day and…” you briefly pause before continuing,

“1,012,445.00 ¥… per song.”

all of their eyes are almost bulging out of their sockets, stilled before atsumu is shooting out of his seat to grasp your shoulders.

“ARE YA SERIOUS? that’s 7,000$ a song!” he exclaims.

“and 500$ a work day added to that? you’re paying for dinner from now on.” suna declares.

“watch it suna. y/n, did ya say yes?” osamu asks.

your shoulders suddenly slump before your face makes somewhat of a frown.

“not yet. to be completely honest, im debating.” you say.

“what is there to debate? that’s a once in a lifetime offer.” atsumu counters.

“that’s the thing. it’s an amazing opportunity for me, but im worried. they didn’t hire me as a singer, just a songwriter. i wouldn’t be gaining any popularity or fame from it, and it would be taking so much time out of my life, id be too busy to focus on my own music. if i stopped releasing songs, i could lose the support ive been gaining. i just don’t want to throw it all away.” you finish.

osamu is now resting his hand on your shoulder to comfort you before he’s responding.

“think of it this way. with all of the hard work you’ll be doing, you’ll be gainin’ experience that can help ya in the long run.” he says before atsumu interferes.

“it’s been yer dream for a long time. you’ll be able to pick up where u left off, i doubt anyone would just forget about your music.”

“you’ll be fine. you’re not throwing anything away, you’re taking a chance to grow. who knows, maybe you’ll learn something from it.” suna says, “and you’ll be dirty rich.” he adds.

you laugh before you go to take your seat next to them, a small smile on your face.

“well, i guess you’re right about some things. i’ll tell her my answer soon.” you voice.

“what the hell do ya mean ‘some’?!”

when they leave that night, you take a deep breath as you sit upright in your bed. your finger hangs over your phone for a fleeting moment, and you think to yourself about what your friends had said. this could be life changing, and it’s important to get experience. even if you needed to put a pause on your own career, it wouldn’t mean you’ll lose all of your support. while you think, the screen dims, warning you that your phone is about to turn off, and you finally succumb by pressing send.

<- PREV ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ->

★ FUN FACTS

⋆ you, the twins & suna sometimes go out to dinner as friends, and they’ve never let you pay.

⋆ TAGLIST

if your name is in bold, i can not tag you.

@bontensbabygirl @aichiomei @toomanygoldfish @withlovekiki @strwbrryeyes @lifesucksweswallow @snail-squasher @le000xxgrd

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onehunnit · 7 months

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Cinema Studies Minor Gets Super Into Analyzing K-Pop Videos 1.0

the thing I love the most ab san's performance video is how the cinematography and editing are WAY more focused on helping to tell a story than filming the actual dance. bc yes ofc, they do film the dance and do very well in that aspect; matches on action, "straight-on" angles during dance breaks, matching up camera movement with the choreography and music. HOWEVER. as soon as they pulled out the 8fps it was OVER for the cinephile inside of me. so let me rant more about how fucking amazing the production and editing crew did. I need to have their names so I can consume everything they've ever done btw. KQ. hand them over. NOW!

disclaimer: I am but a second year cinema studies minor. I can and probably be wrong.

So what I got from the pv is that it's San's rise to where he is now. They use costuming to represent that change, and like. so much more. This is hella disjointed. im sorry.

1: CINEMATOGRAPHY

FRAME RATE & ASPECT RATIOS: They did the thing. the THINGG. the lowering the capture rate to 8fps and in-program it was the regular one so it made it look hazy and streaky as san moved backwards. PLUS! changing the aspect ratio into the more cinematic 2.35:1 from the usual 16:9 we get.

This gives us the chaotic effect of being pushed around with no goals.

WIDE. ANGLE. LENS: It's how you get the warped at the edges look, and extreme wide angle would be a fisheye, so you see that effect to a lesser degree when my guy is on the ground n stuff.

the distortion makes the scene smaller and almost claustrophobic. you have no choice but to confront the way San contorts in the center

CAMERA RIGS: Steadicam/ similar technology to get those "off the tripod" shots and into the dance itself, which adds to the immersion and in general is a good way to get the audience involved, especially in choreography. They use them all the time on music shows to get in the idol's faces while still having the stability of a tripod.

Different from Handheld which is also used in this, in the scene where San is standing back to the camera and the camera is close to the ground before moving up, that shakiness is a hallmark of hand held camerawork.

Adds to the chaos to the scene, and makes it tension-filled as you have no clue what's going on.

BOLT arm: K-pop since like 2020 has been IN LOVE with this camera rig. It's basically a crane that follows a pre-programed path for the camera to follow. This is how we got the really smooth, quick movements from one side of the set to the other. It's mostly to emphasize dance moves, along with get a good high-angle to see the entire choreo.

ANGLES: Low angle on San's face? GENIUS I tell you. The power you felt, bc low angles are commonly used to display power or the rise to it. and we get a San close-up from a low angle TWICE! Also the long angles to show off the chores, combined with a high-angle, like. MWAH perfecto!

2: EDITING

SPEEDRAMPING/ SLO-MO: Basically changing the speed slightly in a very short time frame to emphasize a movement. This is SOO notorious in atz mvs and is used here again, to emphasize movement and also to slow down the building of tension. It gives us a small little break.

KEYFRAMING: Used w/ the BOLT rig im pretty sure. There is just some movement that's a little.. odd? for a BOLT rig in what I've seen so I think the editor(s) went back and key-framed it to get the movement they wanted. But I'm unsure so.

MOTION BLUR: This was to make transitions between cuts smoother. All the "whip pans" and motion blur are edited in. This was most likely to save filming time bc this was mostly likely filmed in a day, or a few hours. My favorite was the kick, bc it was fun and gave the sense he knocked the camera off, but if you go frame by frame it's artificial, sadly. BUT! it gives the same effect so...

COLOR GRADING: I need to suck off the editor (s) SORRY! like over all but what caught my eye the most was the use of color and whoever color graded this NEEDS to have a successful career. NOW! Starting off obv w/ the black and white? symbolizing the past and need to fight? HELL YEAH

then we move into the STUNNNIG saturation choices and HIGH CONTRAST of the rest of it LIKE AHHHH even the lighting contributes bc of how harsh it is, emphasizing the areas of dark and light. just *chefs kiss*. but slap on how de-saturated it is? like it's a DRAMA fr, but not so bad that the dancers and san blend in, bc their skin pops too, but in the backgrounds are either distant or darkened to give focus to them.

RHYTHMIC EDTING: Basically editing to follow a rhythm/ movement. BEAUTIFUL matches on action, esp when moving from a closeup to long shot or vice versa.

3: MIS EN SCENE

COSTUMING: The chains... tHE CHAINS! and how the demin jacket got replaced by the demin, ripped pants. YOU CANNOT CONTAIN HIM!!!

LIGHTING: The lighting was very harsh throughout, but I especially wanna bring attention to the strobing lights at the dance break at the end BC the way the emphasizes the speed and chaos of the movements like YEAH.

Also the red lighting on San? I died. it was just so good.

SETS: Not much here bc it's either dark or the traditional building in the background. BUT! the floor being tiled and the structure, reminded me of gladiator rings. so there's that

#x.txt #not tagging bc I would die if I were perceived on this blog.#<- changed my mind #x.cinema analysis #ateez #choi san

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madafact · 10 months

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is it safe?

so we are here, past july 23rd, the day that was to mark the end of the sprinting portion of this experience. now comes the ice bath water treading. i am brendon masters, a male, i have brown hair, and a heart and two arms. i have been a brother, a son, a grandson, but never a nephew. i must have done evil deeds in the past to harvest such a life reputation. soft crimes, amounting to piles of distress and not scarred, but scared people. i have to say out loud anthony has died to remind myself that i dont feel an inch. a piece. a glimpse. nothing. pure shadow from nowhere.

i still dislike tumblr. its most digested shit in the bowl, but to be honest, more photos on this journey would do the reader some kindness. what i have in return from anthonys passing is a giant yacht aiming to be docked in a small craft harbor. i have such a small life with such small goals, and small measurements. being handed anthonys plate is an insurmountable pile of food. and im still not hungry after my own life buffet eyes.

i guess i am still sighing. be it, alone. lala is next to me, but i am at brutal highpressue noon sunshine with no shelter, day 2 is worse than the first, because you realize what you're up against. my little van is a godsend to the amount of heat coming from the sky. the ground is starting to bake, and my dog is praying the seasons change soon. so am i. but i keep getting lost at what to do. i know i need to leave, but in what fashion? a bank robber? a one night stand? another tall can?

the music is almost over and i am not even eyeing a chair right now. im so preoccupied with how to put glass back together. expensive broken bongs purchased paycheck to paycheck that decided to travel ahead 15 years and give me something to fret about.

i should tell you about the 23rd. i cant call it a memorial because it just didnt have a tone of memory. no pun intended, i still plan on using that word in lieu of his scent. terrie came, cried and got to dip a toe in the world that came to pay their respects. my dad was his shell shocked self. i dont know what to say about that, although when tough times show their face, it illuminates a persons complete complexion. and my dad has gone AWOL. i think its spelled.

anyway about the memorial. friends came and gathered and told stories of the frustratingly amazing person anthony could be. a paddle out was had in the raging river that is summertime current in ocean beach san francisco. to be honest, i shouldnt throw an ounce of shade or even has a malaise in my tone.....again...not going to stop.

so many people worked their ass off to give my family a sense of comfort and joy that i just need to stay in that energy and say a huge thank you to all that attended, helped plan, worked, did anything. it truly was a beautiful display of why making friends can change your life and others in the process..

thank you anthony i love you.

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mackenzielovee · 3 years

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jealous - rafe cameron

a/n: hi! im kinda a mess right now and this story is a little all over the place so im sorry if you hate it lol but i really wanted to write something based on what i think Rafe would really be like as a bf so here it is! (not my pic)

Summary: Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, takes you to a party.

Warnings: swearing, drug use (cocaine), alcohol consumption, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2k

my writing

You can hear the music coming from the house before you see it. It's Friday night on Figure Eight, and you already know what that means. Accompanying your boyfriend to yet another party. You and Rafe have been together for almost a year, and some days, you really think you could rip his head off.

You hadn't even wanted to come tonight. When you voiced that to Rafe, however, he told you with a shrug of his shoulders that he'd just find someone else to dance with. Of course, it started a fight, and now, you're sitting in the back of Topper's Jeep beside Rafe, watching as he stares at his phone.

He isn't talking to you or looking at you, but apparently it's enough for him that he just knows exactly where you are and what you're doing. It's not enough for you, though. You reach over and grab his hand from his phone, looping yours through it. Rafe hesitates at first, wanting his hand back so he can continue what he had been doing. When he sees your expression, his eyes soften just a bit and he relaxes into his seat and your touch.

Topper parks the car and tells all of you to hop out, which you do with the help of Rafe. You appreciate that he doesn't let go of your hand, even though you know it's only because you all are approaching the party and he wants every single person to know that you are with him.

Rafe leans over and kisses your temple quickly, then brings his lips down to your ear.

"Stay close, yeah?" he whispers, his hand gripping yours even tighter.

You know the drill by now. Of course you're going to stay close, because Rafe never lets you get more than five feet away from him at these things. You envy the way Topper treats Sarah sometimes, even though you really think Topper's a tool and would never date him.

Once you all enter the house, Rafe moves his hand from yours to around your waist, leading you through the party and glaring at any guy that even looks over at you. You all make your way into the living room area and find seats on the couch, Rafe immediately pulling you down dangerously close to him.

"Yo, who got this shit?" Rafe points to the cocaine on the table in front of him, the rolled up dollar bill tempting him.

"Bought it from Barry this morning, bro," Kelce speaks up, grinning. Kelce is always trying to please Rafe.

"Always reading my mind, brother," Rafe smirks, and leads forward to take a line without hesitation.

When he comes back up from his line, he grins and daps up Kelce, telling him it's good shit. Then, without you even moving, he leans over and kisses you roughly. His tongue enters your mouth quickly, which you accept and grab onto his neck. He moans into your mouth and then pulls away, immediately going back to the coke.

You sigh and sit back, pulling your phone out. You know Rafe will be high as a kite when you two leave tonight, which only makes you hopeful that he won't turn into an absolute asshole once that stuff kicks in.

He turns back to you with a devious smirk on his face, and before you can even ask what he's doing, he's collecting a line up on your thigh.

"I don't want that shit on me, Rafe," you grumble, but you know better than to move. He might just kill you if you spilled that shit all over the couch and the floor.

"Relax, baby," he tells you, not looking up at you. He's too focused on perfecting his line.

His friends all watch as he snorts a line up your thigh, all of them silently wishing they could do the same. You try not to roll your eyes at him and end up catching the eye of some guy standing in the corner of the room. He's watching you both, curious why you're hanging out with a guy like that. You just shrug and roll your eyes only halfway, telling the guy you're over it.

You're not sure why you do it, you suppose it's the concerned look in his eye as he watches. Nobody ever looks at you like that anymore.

When Rafe glances back up to you and sees you looking at another guy, he instinctively wraps his arm around your waist.

"I don't like the way he's looking at you," Rafe tells you, "Come sit in my lap."

His voice is raspy and his jaw is clenched as he pulls you into his lap, kissing on your cheeks and your neck as he stares at the guy. After only a minute or so, the guy is intimidated enough that he ends up walking out of the living room completely.

"Did you know him?" Rafe asks you, his eyes trailing the boy out of the room.

"No, baby," you sigh.

He catches the frustration in your voice and looks up into your eyes, reaching up and tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. This is the Rafe you love; the intimate, soft one. The one who isn't afraid to show you how he loves you.

"Are you having fun, princess?" he questions, his voice softer than it had been before.

You're not, but you know Rafe is enjoying himself and wants to stay and hang out. So, you take a deep breath and nod your head, giving him a convincing smile. Rafe smiles back and strokes his fingers against your cheek, then brings his hand down to your neck to pull you closer to him. He uses his nose to move your hair away from your ear so he can talk into it.

"I can't wait to get inside of you later, sweetheart," he whispers, feeling you instantly start to squirm against his lap.

His dirty talk always gets to you. The way his voice gets all raspy and needy just does things to your body that no other guy ever could.

"Is that right?" you tease him, bringing your lips dangerously close to him.

"Mhm," he hums against your lips, then closes the gap between the two of you.

He loves when you play with his hair, so you do. You can feel him getting excited underneath you, so you continue. One of his hands wraps around your throat and the other goes down to your ass, making you moan.

"Yo, Rafe, get a fucking room, man," Topper groans.

Rafe smirks against your lips and pulls away, gently setting you down beside him again. You try not to be mad that Topper interrupted the first ounce of attention your boyfriend has shown you tonight. Rafe leans forward to cut another line, so you stand and look around for a bathroom. When he doesn't notice you get up, you decide to just run really quick to one and then come back.

You walk from the living room into a kitchen, then see a little hallway that looks like it probably contains a bathroom. Once you get down the dimly lit hallway, you feel a hand on your arm, roughly yanking you around.

"What the fuck are you doing going off on your own?" Rafe snaps at you, his grip on your arm tightening. You can feel his nails digging into your flesh, making you wince.

"Rafe, you're hurting me," you tell him softly, gently trying to move your arm out of his grasp.

"You need to tell me when you have to go to the bathroom," he says harshly, then releases our arm.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at the floor. He brings his hand up and grabs your cheek, pulling your head up to look at him.

"C'mon," he tells you, "I'll take you."

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway and stopping at a random door. There's one guy waiting outside of it, who Rafe pats on the back once the two of you approach.

"Find another one," Rafe tells him.

The guy turns around and looks at Rafe like he's crazy, his eyes glancing over to you for a second. Protectively, Rafe's grip tightens around your hand.

"Dude, I've been waiting for a while. The line was long when I got here," the guy tells him, watching Rafe sarcastically smile.

"Interesting story, bro. Move along. Now," Rafe's voice is harsh.

The guy rolls his eyes and pushes past the two of you, deciding he doesn't have to go bad enough to put up with Rafe being an asshole. Rafe moves in front of the door, pulling you with him, and bangs on the door.

"Time's up," he yells, continuing to pound on the door.

The door opens up a second later, the guy Rafe had removed from the living room with his eyes earlier stepping out. Of course, you think.

"Ah, if it isn't the guy who likes to stare at my girl," Rafe grins devilishly.

"Rafe-" you start, wanting to tell him to let it go.

"Go inside, baby. I'll be right here when you're done."

He drags his hand toward the door, which in turn drags you toward the door. He lets go as soon as you're in the bathroom, then leans in and shuts the door for you. You can hear Rafe sizing up that poor guy outside, but you choose not to listen. You use the bathroom and then wash your hands quickly, trying your best to hurry so you can save that guy.

When you pull the door open again, Rafe is leaning against the doorframe with his phone in his hand. He looks up at you when you come out and doesn't speak, he just wraps his arm around your waist and leads you away, still looking at his phone.

When you get into the kitchen, Rafe suddenly pushes you up against the wall with no warning. He leans forward and grabs onto your cheeks, bringing his mouth up to yours roughly and kissing you. He quickly picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist, keeping you pinned up against the wall. You kiss him back, loving the way his hands feel all over your body. If you're honest, you're growing impatient for the night to end. You really just want Rafe to take you home and fuck you.

Rafe pulls away after a few minutes, gently setting you back down on the floor and taking his hand in yours again.

"You're mine, don't you forget it," he tells you, his voice demanding. You nod and reach up to wipe your lip, which seems to be covered in Rafe's saliva.

You watch Rafe's gaze as it lingers around the guy from the bathroom, who had just seen Rafe's explosive display of affection. You sigh, knowing that entire thing was just a way of Rafe to mark his territory.

"We're gonna go get Topper's keys," Rafe tells you, "I can't wait any longer. I need you, right now."

You give Rafe a real smile this time and nod your head, following him as he leads you through the crowd. After promising Topper you two wouldn't fuck in his Jeep, he hands Rafe his keys so you two can leave. Rafe tightens his grip around your hand as he pulls you back to the kitchen. He purposely walks past that guy again, muttering something in his ear as you two pass that you can't hear. When you look back, the guy looks disgusted.

When you two get back to Topper's Jeep, you're surprised when Rafe opens up the back door for you to get in.

"Why am I getting in the back?" you ask him.

He smirks, "We're getting in the back."

You look at the devious look on his face and figure out what he's up to, so you raise your eyebrow at him.

"You promised Topper we wouldn't fuck in his Jeep," you remind him.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "Yeah, and last month Topper promised me he wouldn't bend my nine iron when he beat up that Pogue on the golf course with my club. Trust me, baby. He owes me."

You sigh but do as you're told, watching Rafe's smirk only grow when you climb inside. No matter what that boy puts you through at these parties, the sex always makes up for it.

#rafe fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks netflix #outer banks netflix #outerbanks #outer banks #drew starkey

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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soulwillower · 3 years

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semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane. "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own. "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut

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kyovtani · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

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#haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #kyoutani smut #kyoutani kentarou smut #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x female reader #hq!! x female reader #kyoutani x female reader

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angstysebfan · 3 years

Text

The Past Can Break You - 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: honestly probably not the best ive written... sorry

It’s been almost a week since you told Bucky you needed space. You have barely come out of your room, because you didn’t want to see him, and especially her. You wonder if this is really the end of your relationship. You are grateful that he has given you space, and according to Nat, he hasn’t gone near Dot. Dot has been spending a lot of time down in the lab with Tony. Wanting to learn about technology. Good luck to her.

Over the last few days you have been waking up to soft knocking on your door. You go to open the door and find a single red rose with no note. You figure it is Bucky, and while it makes your heart flutter, you force yourself to leave in on your dresser. As you walk down to the kitchen to eat breakfast you see Nat sitting at the counter.

“Morning, Nat,” you say quietly.

She smiles softly at you, “Morning. How are you feeling?” she asks.

You shrug as you continue making your coffee and grab your fixings for cereal. When you turn around you see Bucky sleepily walk into the kitchen. You look at the bags under his eyes and he stops short and stares at you. You feel your heart break when you know that he doesn’t sleep well without you.

“Morning, Doll,” he says, completely ignoring Nat’s existence.

“Good morning Bucky,” you say. You decide to take your breakfast to go and shuffle around him as he walks further into the room. You stop and turn to look at him again, “Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful, “ you say before leaving.

Bucky sighs heavily when you leave and looks at Nat. “God I hope this works. I can’t live like this much longer, Nat. I miss her so goddamn much,” he says as he puts his face in his hands.

“Barnes man up. This will work. She commented on the roses. She is hurt and doesn’t trust you, which you can’t blame her for. But the fact that she thanked you, tells me that she appreciates you putting in the effort. It’s time to do this. Let her know that you are serious about making her a priority. Now I bought everything. You go get ready and I will get her there, okay?” She says.

Bucky nods and heads out of the kitchen to get ready. He hopes that this will work. He is hoping that if anything it will show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous that you will reject him also. But Nat seems to think this will work, so we will see.

You are sitting on your bed, watching Netflix when there is a knock on your door. You call for them to enter and see Nat walk through the door. She walks over and sits on your bed.

“Hey honey, how are you holding up?” she asks as she sits.

You shrug, hugging yourself. “I-I miss him. But I’m still mad at him. But I want to talk to him. But I’m scared that it will end,” you say.

Nat pulls you into a hug, “Honey, I promise he has been moping in his room all week. I don’t think he has gone near her once. Steve has been watching over her, and she has been spending a lot of time in the lab, which is weird, but whatever. He told her he was done and he meant it. Talk to him,” she says.

You can’t help the tears, “Has be been... okay?” you ask.

“He misses you. He wants to make it up to you. Are you ready to hear him out, and have a conversation with him?” Nat asked.

You sigh and think about whether or not you are ready. You look at her and node slowly, causing her to smile. “Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. Now get up and put...” she ran to the bedroom door and grabs a box from the hallway she left there, bringing it back to the bed. “This on. I’ll meet you in the garage in 1 hour,” she says before leaving. You open the box and gasp.

When Nat pulls up to the edge of Central Park, you look at her in question. She nods telling you to go ahead. You get out of the car and start walking down the path. As you get closer to the clearing, you hear light music. You continue walking and finally enter the clearing where you recognize you had your first date with Bucky. You look around and see roses everywhere and candles, along with music.

Finally your eyes meet Bucky, who is standing in the middle of open space. He is wearing a navy blue suit, that matches your navy blue dress that Nat gave you. He has shaved his beard to some light scruff, that makes you swoon. His hair is cut short, and looks so soft. You see he is nervous as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hi Bucky,” you say.

He sighs and gives you a small smile, “Hi baby. I’m glad you came,” he says as he steps up to you with another rose in his hand.

He hands it to you, which causes you to smile, “Well Nat didn’t exactly give me much of a choice,” you say.

He laughs, “Yea, she has been helping me set up all of this. I’m so glad you are here. I-I wanted to... I... Baby, I can’t even find the words to apologize for being such an ass. But I’m done. I told Dot she had to deal with things herself. I told her that you were the one I want. And, I haven’t seen her since. I know that it will take a lot more than a date and begging to get you to forgive me, but I hope that we can recreate our first date because I fell in love with you that night. Not that I am expecting anything, but I owed you, and--”

You cut Bucky off with you lips slotting on his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you impossibly close. “Bucky, I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to fix this. I’ve missed you. I love you so much, and the fact that you are doing all of this, means so much to me. This isn’t going to fix everything, but I’m ready to talk,” you say.

Bucky leads you to the table and you both sit and talk about the situation. You talk about your fears and how you felt when Dot arrived. You expressed how his actions affected you, and Bucky took everything in stride. When you finally finished going through everything, Bucky then told you how the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He felt that he owed it Dot, because he knows how scary it is to wake up in a different time. And while he used to have love for Dot, the moment he met you and started to date you, Dot no longer held his heart. Only you.

He told you that he will never put anything ahead of you or your relationship again. After you both agreed you will move back into your room, but Bucky still has a lot of things to make up for. You then danced the night away under the stars. You both eventually make your way back to your shared apartment. Bucky surprised you with new lingerie, the same pair he ruined that night. You got a redo of that date night, and this time, Bucky made sure you had several more orgasms, before finishing himself. No interruptions, no ex’s, just the two of you reclaiming your love on each other.

Dot had been trying to figure out what she could do to split you and Bucky up for good. She knew you would be pathetic and fall for his charms again, just like all the girls from back in the day. She had to step up her game in this century though, and who better to learn from then one of the smartest men who happen to live in the compound also.

She started to spend time with Tony to learn the ins and outs of technology in the 21st century. He also taught Dot how utilize FRIDAY. showed her all the fun and cool thing that no one cared to know. Dot made sure she seemed completely excited and interested, which helped Tony’s ego and gave her more information. Eventually Dot figured out something that she could use.

She smiled when she saw both you and Bucky going into shared apartment after your date. While she hated the idea of you and Bucky together, she knew that she could use her new knowledge against you. And now was the perfect time to put that in motion.

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Not 100% how I feel about this chapter. I felt like it was getting too long so I cut it, but maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if it’s not as good. But DRAMA ALERT!! What is Dot going to do? Feedback is appreciated!

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 3 years

Text

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head.

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you.

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks.

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication.

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile.

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed.

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it.

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly.

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off.

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically.

He glares.

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar.

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks.

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible.

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole.

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-”

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye.

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands.

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent.

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line.

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water.

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there.

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat.

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be.

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls.

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you.

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers.

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.”

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble.

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens.

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center.

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy.

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered.

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

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