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harcove · 2 years

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(Ear)ring - B.H.

a/n: not a request this time, whew, but I hope everyone likes this all the same! I actually really liked writing this one and do not immediately hate it lmao, this idea just came to me a few nights ago lmao

length: 2.5k

warnings: none? fluff? ig ooc billy but like is it really ooc if this how i write him lmao

pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

summary: you want something to wear that's billy's, but all of his rings are too big for you, so there's always something else.

If it were anyone else in his room, looking through his things and touching them, Billy might've snapped. He might've been a bit more cagey, paid a bit more attention. But it was you, and as far as he was concerned there wasn't a thing in his room he needed to hide from you. The worst thing you'd find was a stupid magazine, but he already had a porn star poster on his wall. Had since long before the two of you started dating. At this point, it filled empty space on his walls.

Besides, you were part of him at this point. Billy had no qualms with you being in his space, touching his things. You knew what he didn't like you doing and vice versa at this point.

So, while you look through his tapes, he lays on his bed leaning against the backboard, a book opened in one hand while the other rests behind his head. His stereo playing one of the tapes he had made in collaboration with you. The music taste between the two of you had been on two sides of a spectrum but sharing them with one another was the only time Billy enjoyed your music taste. If anyone else tried to make him listen to it, he'd hate it.

When the final song finished, you pulled the tape out and put another one inside, this time the music was definitely a mix he had made only for himself, yet you still smiled while it played.

Seemingly bored of your rummaging through his various tapes of music, you pulled yourself off the floor, making an exaggerated sound like you were an older person getting out of bed. You had a little hop to your step when you stood straight and made a beeline for his dresser, covered in various trinkets.

"The fuck was that?" Billy questions the noise you made, looking away from the book Hard Times and looking to you, "sounded like an old ass man."

You shrug, "just practicing for when I'm an old lady."

"Keep practicing," he rolls his eyes and turns back to his book.

He doesn't see it, but he knows you're sticking your tongue out at him like a child.

On his dresser are a variety of things. A shirt he haphazardly threw on top rather than putting it away or in the laundry bin, a few different hair products that he liked to use, chapstick that you left at his house so if you forgot your other one you could use this one when you were there (he also used it too now), a few tapes he hadn't put away, a random book, and a little dish with different rings inside.

The dish was what beckoned your attention as you began to look through it.

Billy had a lot of rings. All of them were rather thick, made of silver or something else of the same colour. Some had designs on them, but most were rather plain to look at. He didn't wear them all at once, but somedays he'd wear a few on his hands. Sometimes he'd switch one out for another. But the one ring he never took off was one that had belonged to his mother. It was on his hand always.

Plucking a simpler ring from the dish, one that also looked a bit smaller than the others, you put it on your index finger. Too big. You tried your ring finger. Nope, way too big. Your thumb. Still no. It felt weird, definitely not meant for that finger.

Going through a few more, it gave you the same results. Rings too big for your smaller hands; it truly put into perspective just how much bigger Billy was than you in almost every aspect there was. Taller than you, buffer than you, bigger hands, feet.

You sighed dramatically, "you have huge hands you know?"

Billy looks up from his book again, this time looking at you almost as if you'd grown another head. To others, he likely would have come across as annoyed, but you knew how to read his face better than others.

And suddenly it's turning from mild confusion to a smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes. You'd given him a perfect opening you realize, preparing yourself for whatever his brain had prepared for you.

"There are a lot of things about me that are big sweetheart," he almost purrs when he speaks. He sounds confident, snarky, and amused. If you weren't across the room you'd have playfully hit his shoulder gently.

But as it was, the best you could give him was a pointed look and a few words.

"Sure," you respond with an eye roll, "sometimes you are so..."

You look for a word that expresses itself properly but find yourself coming up empty; Billy however is quick on the draw- he always is.

"Sexy, the best fuck-" He offers words without much thought, only looking into your eyes- blue ones piercing through you as he smirks. He knows what he's doing. He always does.

"Annoying," you quickly cut off his words, huffing as your ears heat up, "I was thinking of the word annoying."

"That's not what you said the other night in your room."

"Oh my God, Billy."

"Yeah, that's more like what you were saying."

This time you don't even bother to offer him a response, too flustered to even try. You know it will be thrown back at you as you inevitably give him more ammunition to tease.

Instead, you puff your cheeks out akin to a child and turn your back to him once more busying yourself with the dish of rings in front of you on the dresser. Picking some of them up and looking at them in your hands but not really noticing them anymore.

Billy watches you fully now, dog-earing the page of his book he's stopped on instead of using a bookmark (he'd lose that shit so fast, and really, this is much faster and easier to do) and throws his book to the side on his bed. Stretching his muscles out a bit, he moves to stand to his full height, putting his arms up to stretch and then letting them fall.

Either you're ignoring him and what he's doing, or you're really enraptured with the rings in the dish. Billy is fairly sure it's the former.

It doesn't stop him from slithering his way up behind you and resting his heavy hands on your waist, digging his fingers into your sides roughly, but not enough to actually hurt you.

It elicits a small noise from your lips, one that emboldens the dirty blonde behind you as he pulls his body fully against your back, capturing you in his firm grasp.

His head dips to rest his chin on your shoulder and so he can peer into your face and gauge your emotions. Get your attention. But you're stubborn, and even though he can physically feel the way your body melts a smidge into his own, enjoying his presence and touch.

Your body always gave you away.

Your eyes stayed trained on the ring in your hand however and Billy watched the way you played with it.

"You want one?" He asks you, waiting. If he could pull you closer into his body he would.

You don't answer, trying your hardest to keep up the act of silence against him for teasing you. You aren't that mad in reality, it's just the principle of the thing you started.

And part of you enjoys the moves he makes to coax you to speak.

"You can take one," he continues, taking the ring out of your hand behind you and taking one of your smaller hands into his, slipping the ring onto one of your fingers where it sits loosely, not fitting whatsoever, "small ass fuckin' hands."

There's something about how he puts the silly little (it is not little and it's probably silver plated or platinum) ring onto your finger that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

It's the imagery of him doing so that makes you feel a spark. Makes you feel something deep in the pit of your stomach, something telling you that one day you hope he does this again, but for a different reason and with a ring that fits.

But that wasn't important right now. You were still young.

"Yeah, like I said... You have big hands," you finally speak, clearing your throat nervously, "It's too bad. Wearing something that's yours would be nice."

"You wear my shit all the time. Isn't that my shirt?"

It was, in fact, his shirt.

"That's not what I mean, I mean something like this. That I don't have to take off... It's like... Having a piece of you with me, all the time. No matter how far we are from one another or whatever happens to either of us, it's like a piece of you is with me always."

It was so cliché. And Billy's continued silence after you spoke only made you cringe at yourself. Albeit the words were true, and you meant them from the bottom of your heart, you also recognized how silly and corny it sounded. Billy wasn't corny, he wasn't mushy and soft like that. He had to be rolling his eyes you just couldn't see.

"Okay, go ahead and laugh."

But rather, Billy was just staring. Not rolling his eyes, making any jokes. You couldn't see this because he was still behind you, your back pressed against his front. But he wasn't preparing himself to laugh or make fun.

If you were anyone else, maybe he would have. If he heard someone else say something like that to someone he would've rolled his eyes and thought it was the corniest shit ever. But this wasn't the case.

It was you. And it made his chest tighten. The implication that one day maybe there was a possibility that life could tear you away from him or vice versa wasn't something that Billy liked to think about or entertain.

As far as he was concerned, nothing could happen. Not if he didn't think about it in the moment.

Pulling himself away from you suddenly, you missed the sudden loss of his warmth and his body against yours, the way his hands molded around your body.

You worried for a moment that you'd said something wrong. But you couldn't get a word in as you watched him move around his room.

Billy was on a mission, he went to a dresser beside his bed and knelt down. Inside the drawer was where he kept the few earrings he had and liked to wear in his single pierced ear.

He didn't like leaving them out in the open. His father used the fact he had his ear pierced against him. Neil would probably throw them out or use them as more ammunition against his son if he saw them sitting out.

Picking out one of the earrings- one that dangled- Billy stood up straight again and made his way back to you.

He took your chin into one of his hands and tilted your head to the side, then tilted it to the other side before settling it back to look directly at him.

"Left or right?"

"What?"

"Left or right, Jesus, which ear do you want this in?"

He dangled the earring in his hand in front of your face, as if it was obvious what he wanted and you were just annoying him.

In reality, he was very much unused to this- this feeling and the actions he was taking.

"Oh, right-" you quickly catch on as your heart swells, taking your small stud silver earring out from your left ear, holding it in your hand, waiting.

Billy's hands are gentle. Actually very gentle in this moment. You know him to be heavy-handed- not on purpose. The way he holds your hand is tighter than other people might, or the way he holds you is tight and you're always pulled against him. In bed, he's leaving his fingers indented on your body. He's never hurt you, but by default, he's rougher than other people.

But right now, as he takes the dangly earring and holds it so close to your ear, he is the most gentle you've ever seen him. He's so carefully placing the earring into the small hole in your earlobe, making sure it's in and not going to come out.

His fingers are warm against your ear and skin, and it feels peaceful. The way his knuckles brush against the side of your face as he puts the earring in. You just want him near you.

Billy's hands pull away once the piece of jewelry is secure, taking your face in his hands again, slightly squeezing your cheeks together as he does so. Seemingly admiring his handiwork and his earring in your ear, his face that he'd been keeping neutral seems to brighten a smidge and you note the upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Looks good," he says suddenly, turning your face to look into the mirror on his wall.

The earring moves at the movement, dangling and touching the skin below your ear softly and it sort of tickles. But he's right, it does look good. Maybe it's a bit odd in contrast to your other ear, stud alone while the other is more dramatic, but you love it all the same. It's his, it's him, and he's letting you wear it.

"Give me your earring."

His hand is out expectantly, waiting for you to drop the object he's referring to into his open palm. Focused on admiring the earring in your ear and the warm feeling in your stomach, it confuses you for a few seconds as he moves his hand in a motion that repeats his previous words but this time only in his actions.

You place the object into his hand and he's easily moving, removing the small hoop he decided to wear in his ear that day and putting it on the dresser beside the dish of rings as he pulls the back off your simple silver stud.

He slips it into his own piercing hole and closes the back as if it's second nature, not messing up or having trouble finding where the hole is.

It looks so simple for someone like Billy Hargrove. It's a little circle stud, not a hoop or a dangly piece. But it makes your eyes widen and fill with the beginning of tears.

It's the act of him doing this that makes you want to cry. The fact that he didn't just leave it at giving you his earring to wear, but also wearing yours in return. It is so goddamn cheesy, corny, cliché maybe. But your heart doubles in size when you look at him.

"Not as cool as my earring but..." he looks at himself in the mirror, making you turn to look as well, facing a reflection of the two of you with his earring in your ear and one of yours in his, "It's you."

It's you. That's how you feel. It's him. And it will always be him.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #mine #my writing #amy writes #not a request #1k #2k #3k

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its-captain-sir · 4 months

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Brains and Brawn

Had a discord server secret santa exchange, this was my gift for @star-keepr! I've never written the bayverse guys before so this was a really fun experience! :D

~~💙🧡🐢❤️💜~~

One time, when Raph was five, he and Donnie got it into their heads to build a skate ramp.

None of them actually skated at the time. Their one and only board had a box strapped to the top of it and was mainly used as a cart between the four of them. Two people fit inside and another could push them around, but Leo said he was too tired to push even though it was his turn, and Mikey didn't want to play unless it would be his turn on the inside, leaving Raph and Donnie stranded in the cart with nowhere to go.

Hence, the ramp.

Raph got the idea from an old magazine cover he saw with a skateboarding guy going down one and looking fast, and Donnie knew enough about something called "inclined planes" from one of his science books that he said it would work. They decided on one of the lesser used tunnels of their home to be the spot they built the ramp, mostly because all the stacks of old boxes and junk around there meant they didn't have to carry anything very far.

"It has to be big," Donnie said, dropping another box onto their pile. "To reach maximum vel- vel-o-ci-ty."

Raph didn't know a lot of the big words Donnie used all the time, but bigger sounded better, so he nodded and ran to get more things. They were running out of good boxes, so they'd have to start using some of the really old waterlogged books instead. He heaved the thickest looking ones into one big stack and lugged them all the way back to Donnie, dropping them at his feet. "We won't need to be pushed ever again!"

They both cheered as their pile grew higher and higher, until it was almost too hard to lift any more over their head. "That should be big enough," Donnie said, dusting grime off his hands. "I found a good piece of wood to use for the actual ramp, I'll go grab it."

"Where's it gonna go?" he asked as Donnie ran off, digging through the junk.

"At the top, try to find a good spot for it!"

He looked up at their pile. He couldn't actually see the top of it, not from the ground. Donnie might have been able to, if he was on his tippy toes, but Donnie's always been taller than him. He needed a better view.

Carefully, without knocking anything over in the rest of the pile, he started to climb up the side. It was harder than he thought to balance on everything, even though Dad had been giving them ninja training on just that. One box made him just tall enough to peak over the edge, so he stopped climbing there.

This ramp was high. Raph could see the perfect part where the flat piece should go. He bounced on his toes. If they put it in that direction, they could zoom down the tunnel forever–

"Raph, it's too heavy! I can't lift it!"

"I'm coming–!"

The box beneath him crumpled.

Next thing he knew he was on the ground, shell in the air, face on the concrete. He heard Donnie gasp first, and then he felt the sting. His knee burned, red hot.

When he flipped over, all he could see were huge red gashes across his skin, welling up with blood and dripping down his leg. And it hurt.

Raph couldn't help it. He started to cry.

"Raph!" Donnie rushed over to him. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, pulling his knee up to his chest and holding it tightly. It hurt so bad and he was bleeding everywhere.

"Let me see it," Donnie said, trying to coax his hands away from covering the wound. Raph fought him for a moment, but his brother was insistent, tugging until it was fully exposed. Donnie pushed his glasses up on his face and leaned in close, examining it carefully.

Raph whined. There was a lot of blood.

"Am I gonna die?" he whimpered.

Donnie's head whipped up to face him, jaw dropped like he hadn't even considered the possibility. "You're not gonna die," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's just an ab- abra- ab-ra-sion." He sounded out each part of the word distinctly and carefully, not that it helped Raph to understand at all.

Donnie poked the wound while he was distracted and Raph flinched, feeling the sting start up anew. He slapped Donnie's hand away and held his leg tighter again, feeling more tears well up in his eyes. "What's that?" he bit out. Sometimes he hated when Donnie used his big words. Why couldn't he just say things normally?

"It means scrape. You can't die from scrapes," Donnie said matter-of-factly, like he always got when he knew something the rest of his brothers didn't. "They don't bleed enough." Donnie leaned in close again and Raph got ready to swat away any prodding fingers, but his brother kept his hands to himself this time. "Sometimes you hafta worry about germs getting into open wounds. There's lots of those in the sewers, but since we never got sick before we probably have imu- imi- im-mu-ni-ty."

Raph still didn't understand what Donnie was talking about, but he seemed very certain about it. Like Raph was going to be fine. He sniffed, wiping away some of his tears. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Donnie thought he would be fine, and Donnie knew everything. And even if he didn't, Raph can be tough. He's always the toughest of his brothers, Leo even said so last week after he ran with Mikey on his shoulders all around the lair and didn't even flinch once at his kicking feet.

"It doesn't even hurt now," he said, sniffling again. He just wanted Donnie to see that he was tough, but now that he thought about it, it was true. The scrape really didn't hurt that much anymore.

"We just need a bandaid," Donnie said, clapping his fist into his palm like Leo did when he had a plan. "I know where they are, be right back!"

Donnie took off for the bathroom, leaving Raph to wait on the ground. Everything was going to be fine. Or at least it was, until their youngest brother walked in.

Mikey, like the snitch he is, took one look at the blood on Raph's leg and screamed. "DAAAAAD, RAPHIE'S BLEEDING."

Donnie and him got in trouble for building a ramp, obviously, after bandaids were placed (by Splinter) and scrapes were kissed better (by Mikey). The two days after that when Splinter made them stay in the main room where he could keep an eye on them were the worst he had ever experienced in his five years of life, but the memory of Donnie's care is something that's always stuck with him over the years. Enough so that whenever he's hurt, he finds himself drawn to his purple-loving brother. The aftermath of saving the city over ten years later is no exception.

All things considered, he fared pretty well, but all the cuts he sustained are starting to sting, and one spot on his shell aches something awful. He knocks on the wall by Donnie's space—big computer screens towering everywhere, though definitely not as many as he used to have before the lair got found—and watches as his brother looks up, double takes, then jumps at the sight of him.

Raph cringes. Tensions are still high between them, between all of them really. Raph is still upset over the retromutagen, even though he was the one to smash the vial. (He's trying really hard not to think of that as a mistake.) Still, when the anger subsides, he's left feeling weird about not being on the same team as all his brothers.

He coughs into his hand as Donnie stands there like a deer in headlights. "Hey, Don," he says, not quite meeting his brother's eyes. "Couldja patch me up?" He looks up just long enough to see Donnie slowly nod and move to grab one of the first aid kits. Raph takes that as his cue to take a seat on one of the workbenches, slowly beginning to settle into his skin again. It's familiar territory: Donnie wiping disinfectant on cuts and poking bruises, pulling out rolls of bandages for the big wounds and boxes of bandaids for the little ones, explaining to Raph all of what he's doing.

Their trust in each other has been shaken lately, but Raph will always trust his brother with this. When Donnie says "Lots of bangs and scrapes, but you're going to be fine," with a small smile as he pushes up his glasses, Raph fully believes him. He's the brains of this operation, after all.

And Raph, well, he already knew he was made of tougher stuff—not even the Shredder could keep him down— but it's nice to have the reassurance anyways. That's why they do this thing, just the two of them. He hooks an arm around Donnie and pulls him in close. "Thanks, bro," he says, feeling the last of the tension between them melt away. Then, while he has his brother close to a headlock: "If you ever tell Leo or Mikey about this, I'll end you."

Donnie snorts. "Duly noted, o' pinnacle of machismo."

Raph rolls his eyes and lets him go, grinning. Some things never change.

#i think this is the first tmnt fic I've ever officially published?? wild!#tmnt bayverse #my writing

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deru-shigaraki · 3 years

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Yandere Idol Asmodeus (obey me one shot)~smut Warning~

He was at the top of the charts. Face on billboards, articles in magazines, and dozens of interviews and appearances on tv. You, along with the rest of the world was in awe of him and his talent. A singer, dancer, actor, he had it all. He also had you. Being his personal assistant was a complete chore. For someone so famous, it was a hassle to mange him and his social life. You did your best to keep up and he knew that, always giving you praise. He adored you, you knew that. He would tell you regularly, which you assumed was just something that he got used to saying. However he should love you, because of how good you were at your job. You weren't just there to book him concerts and meetings, you were also one call away when he needed someone to pick him up from the club, or when he was feeling overwhelmed. He abused your phone number, not only calling you when something important came up but he wouldn't leave you alone on your days off, he would ring you up just to talk, wanting your opinion on dumb things or just when he wanted attention. You felt almost like a parent chasing after him all the time. However you were hardly able to control him. He was taller, stronger, and he treated you like a lab dog. You were always at his side, when you weren't, he'd get a bit...frustrated. You learned that the hard way. It wasn't a big deal, it mainly just shocked you how his flip could switch so easily. You had been late for a photo shoot one morning, your phone had died, and your charger was lost somewhere in one of your many bags. You had a rough night, having to check into a hotel, not able to make it all the way to Asmodeus' mansion. You were running on only a few hours of sleep, that late night meeting being the worst idea. You didn't even have your makeup on as you rushed out of the uber, hurrying into the building where the crew was most defiantly waiting for you. You weren't even to the room yet and you could hear shouting. It was so foreign to you, hearing him scream like that. You ran into the studio, thinking that there was a fight or some sort breaking out. There, in the middle of the room was Asmodeus, throwing things around like a child. He was furious, his eyes glaring daggers at anyone who tried to stop him. His perfect hair had been compromised, now messy and ruined. He only stopped his tantrum when he spotted you. His mouth twitched, as he panted, nearly out of breath. "You're here..." He muttered, standing up straight and fixing his shirt. He began to laugh, his arms slacking to his sides as he took a few steps towards you. "W-what's the matter?" you asked, looking at him as well as the other employees. They coward away, not wanting to get involved. You felt uncomfortable as Asmodeus took hold of your wrist, dragging you out into the hallway. You struggled against him, asking the others for help but they kept their distance once Asmodeus called to them. "I'll be back to finish the shoot in a few minutes~" he cooed, as if he was back to normal, but his grip on your arm gave a different impression. You were tossed against the wall carelessly. You were shocked, keeping yourself up on your feet, only to have him jerk you around by your clothing. "You fucking whore." He hissed in your ear. It caught you off guard. You looked up at him with fearful eyes as he grasped a handful of your hair, tilting your head back. "Who were you with last night? You didn't call, didn't text, and your snap map was still at the studio. I know you weren't sleeping there, so who was it?" He growled. You shook your head frantically. "I was at a hotel, I wasn't with anyone." You tired to explain but Asmodeus wound't listen, laughing maniacally. His hand gently stroked your cheek. It was confusing, you almost felt a certain amount of affection from his touch, but his eyes burned into you with a cold stare. His voice was even more unnerving. He spoke in a low growl. "I'm going to find out if you're lying to me. I don't need to remind you who I am." You shook your head frantically, deciding that it was best to just get this tantrum over with. He sighed, closing his eyes and taking in a breath. He grabbed your shoulders and forcefully pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you. You hugged him back. You had always hugged him, but this one felt less apologetic and more possessive, as if he didn't want to let you go. "Asmo...Come on, let's go take your pictures ok." You tried to chance the subject, to destress the situation. Asmodeus nodded his head and giggled carelessly. "Right!" Leading you back to the room, you felt all eyes on you. Had he been throwing a tantrum the whole time you were gone? What had he said that made everyone so on edge. As the pictures were being taken you noticed that people had calmed down. Asmo had that ability, to make those around him feel comfortable, even if it was him who had caused the slight discomfort. Through out the shoot, the photographer had to keep reminding him to look at the camera. You kept your head down, trying not to show how embarrassed that you were, knowing your clients eyes kept staring at you. What was his deal today? Yelling at you and now the constant glances, the winks. This wasn't suppose to be a very sensual session. It was for a normal magazine, not the penthouse. Yet Asmodeus was unbuttoning his shirt, licking at his fingers, arching his back, all while making eye contact with you. By the end of the shoot, everyone in the room was heated, girls and boy alike were tanking down water bottles, excusing themselves to the bathroom. You were trying to bury yourself in the schedule on your lap when Asmo surprised you. His arms wrapped around you in a hug. He had down this countless times before, but this felt different. His hands weren't behaving like they always did. He had actually attempted slipping his hand down your shirt and you yelped, trying to step away from him. Asmodeus giggled happily. "Don't be so squeamish~I'm just teasing you." He explained but you doubted it. Taking a deep breath you continued on with the day, which had been fully booked. You went on like you normally did, or at least tried. Asmo was nearly unbearable. You felt exhausted from carrying him around, the man always leaning into you, hugging you. That wasn't as bad as when he was suddenly touch you in inappropriate places. Or when he would whisper things into your ear. It was unsettling, in all the years you had worked with him, you had never experienced his personality in full blast like this, not even when he was drunk had you been so attacked. As you walked him up to his apartment, you thought that it was finally over. Maybe after a good night sleep he would be back to normal. He was just having a weird day, maybe he had gotten into some drugs. You wouldn't bring it up now of course, not wanting to upset him, especially if there was nobody there to protect you if he did lose it. You yawned as Asmo unlocked his door. You gave him a smile, waving goodbye, but before you got more than a few steps you heard him whine. "Wait, MC, you should stay here with me tonight." He said, his figure looking a bit menacing in the doorway. His fingers were gripping the wall, tapping lightly, and impatiently. You stood there for a few seconds, not sure how or even if you could decline the offer. "I, um...It's not that late, I'll get a cab-" "No MC, please, just come in." It wasn't an offer, it was a command and you did what was asked of you, even though the way he was staring made you very uncomfortable. Once you were inside, Asmo seemed to relax, back to his cheerful self. "You hungry? I have lots of snacks!" He jeered and you actually felt better too. The two of you ate some food, watching one of your favorite shows together. Asmodeus was sitting up straight, not making any sort of move while next to you. It gave you a sense of security. As if he was done harassing you today. Getting ready for bed he also kept his distance, giving you your space to get changed into your night shorts and tank top. However when it came to sleeping, he refused to let you take the spare room. "MC, please~I get so cold sleeping by myself, you'd warm me right up." He smiled brightly, as he grabbed your hand, pulling you down onto the bed with him. You sighed, being far too tired to fight back at this point. Once you were both under the covers, Asmo cuddled you tightly. He wrapped his arms and legs around you and nuzzled his face into your neck. You allowed him too, being too tired and for one and two, you were kind of cold. His whole body was warm, heating you up perfectly. It wasn't hard for you to fall asleep. It also wasn't long before you were woken up eruptively. Asmo was screaming, throwing things around the room as you sat up with a start. He glared at you, the lamp in the corner was on the ground, its shade busted but still emitting light. Asmodeus glared at you, your phone in his hand. "Good you're up, be sure to call back your boyfriend." He hissed and you were taken back. "w-what? Asmo, I don't have-" "-He called you, don't know why you didn't wake up and go rushing to him!" You sat up, ready to get out of the bed, but he was quick to jump on the bed, crawling over top of you. He was never more threatening. He only wore his boxers, his bare chest looking a bit more muscular now that you were scared. He looked down at you angrily, scrolling through your phone to read your messages. You reached up to grab it but he jerked his arm back. "Don't fucking touch it." He hissed, clearing his throat to read what had been sent to you. "I tried to call you but you must be sleeping, I'm coming up next weekend. Hopefully we can get together and go get some drinks. Miss you...love you." He stared at the screen, starting to laugh. You were trembling afraid, never had you seen him so unstable. This wasn't drugs, this was something mental and you were terrified. "A-Asmodeus-" He cut you off, using all of his strength to chuck your phone at the wall, shattering it. "Fucking whore!" He screamed as he sent a punch to the pillow next to your head. You yelped, covering your face with your hands. "That's not anybody! That's a friend! Just a friend!" You tried desperately to explain but he wasn't having any of it. "I gave you everything, You'd be nothing without me! You owe me everything! No amount of your attention deserves to be given to someone else! I OWN YOU!" He screamed in your face. You started to cry at this point, not able to keep your composer any longer. You were shaking, feeling his hands grab your wrist, pulling them away and pinning them to the pillow beside your head. He then leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I gave you too long of a leash, I should have watched you closer...I just thought I was enough for you..." His voice started to sound less angry and more heartbroken. You sniffled, "You are enough for me, You're my best friend, I-I love you-" "You don't love me...I Love you. My heart burns for you, your feelings are nothing compared to mine, I've spent my entire career trying to control you, I thought you could be trusted as my assistant, but you're getting too comfortable...." You didn't understand. What the hell was he talking about? You shifted your hands, but he had them pinned tight to the bed. "Asmo, please...let's calm down, you're scaring me." He looked up at you, his eyes welled with tears, but his face held no trace of sadness, only rage. "I want you to say it." he spat and you blinked in confusion, not understanding what he wanted. "Wh-what?" you asked and Asmodeus, let his lower body sink down into you. You gasped as you felt his crotch, digging into yours. "Tell me who you belong to~" You shivered, one of his hand snaking away from your hand, fingers tracing a path to your neck, as he gently grasped your throat. "Who do you belong to?" He asked once more, feeling you swallow your nerves. You said in a whisper. "I...I belong to you..." He groaned, eyes rolling back, hips digging into at a more aggressive pace. You could feel him grow harder as he continued the action. You whined. "Asmo! n-no." You mumbled, but he acted as if he didn't hear what you said. "I don't care who you were with before. I'll get rid of every last one of them. From here on out you're mine." His hand trailed down from your neck, groping your chest through your shirt. You struggled against him. "I've not been with anyone! Please Asmo, I'm not ready!" You pleaded and he paused. "You're still a virgin..." He muttered under his breath, his eyes wandering down to where your body had been rutting against each other. You bit your lip nervously as looked back up at your face. "I thought for sure...This whole time...I can't believe it." He sounded almost excited, finally smiling at you. "This whole time you were waiting for me to pop that little cherry of yours~." He cooed, his movements relaxing, going easier. You calmed your breathing down, trying to stay calm, not wanting to upset him again. You thought of how you could get out of the situation. You looked up at him, eyes welling with tears, but you decided to be strong. "Asmo...I really like you, You know that." you choked out. He hummed, smiling down at you. "Yeah?" You nodded. "We've been companions for so long...I just don't understand why you want to hurt me like this." you felt his body tense up. "You...you think this hurts?" He asked and you blushed, not sure how to respond. Asmodeus nibbled on his bottom lip. "Oh right...Virgins are really sensitive, I guess I should start small first." He thought outloud to himself. You gasped as his hand slipped into your shorts, realizing you had no panties on. He looked up at you and smirked as he played with your pussy. Your hands fell to your sides, gripping the bed sheets as he continued to violate you. Your eyes were closed tight, hating yourself for the noises that were leaving your mouth. The way your body trembled for him. You wish his breath wasn't so warm, his hands weren't so skilled, rubbing against you in a sick way. You were dripping uncontrollably, your body never being in a situation like this. You weren't lying when you told him that you were a virgin. That's why when he went a step further and dipped the tip of one of his fingers inside you, your eyes opened and you yelped. Asmo hushed you, his one arm, resting next to your head, holding himself up over top of you. "You're pussy is so hungry, eating my fingers up like this~I take back everything I said about you being a slut, there's no way you'd be this tight." He growled, pushing in two more of his fingers inside. Your legs struggled to close, but his body was in the way. You were trapped, forced to take every bit of his torture, the bed underneath you getting soaked. As he began to pump into you faster, your eyes watered. It didn't hurt too bad, it was tight and he wasn't being as gentle as he had said but there was something about the intensity that was making you light headed. You panted with the thrust of his hands. Whining like a dog, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your hips began to push up against his palm. Asmodeus bit his lip, his eyes watching your reaction closely as he curled his fingers inside you. "You're so beautiful~Seeing you like this is enough to push me over the edge." He leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss. You moaned into his mouth. He liked the feeling, deciding to finger you harder so that you'd whine more desperate. You pulled your head to the side, escaping so that you could breath. Asmodeus buried his face into your neck. Kissing you feverishly as he began to mumble to himself. "Mine, Mine." He gasped out with every thrust. "A-a-asmodeus! Wait! Slow down! I can't--I can't--" You were nearing your limit, his mouth latching onto you, biting at your neck so aggressively. It was too much, your legs began to shake, your arms reaching up to wrap around him as he fucked his hand into your orgasm. You screamed out, riding it out on his hand. You were gasping for breath, begging him to stop pumping into you, your pussy sore and worn out. He chuckled, sitting up, raising his hand to his mouth so that he could suck your orgasm off of his fingers. "You ready for something bigger?" He questioned, hand dipping down into his boxers.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #fan fiction #smut #one shots #imagines #Asmodeus #obey me asmo x mc #asmodeus x reader #obey me one master to rule them all #Yandere Asmodeus #Asmodeus smut #Asmodeus fluff

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itgirlification · 3 years

Text

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

Text

An Afterthought pt.2

Synopsis: Maeve shows up on your doorstep one night all sad and what not then leaves. Now it’s your turn to try and make amends.

Pairing: Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Words: 4.1+

A/N - Did someone call for an angsty part 2 to a story i put out almost a year ago?? I got a fair few requests for this so here it is. I hope you enjoy it sorry if you don’t. request are open btw.

Warning - Swearing, violence and a very brief mention of zombies.

Part 1

Thoughts about Maeve are more frequent as of late. What was once just a passing thought as you spotted her face on magazine covers or painted on walls now became bothersome. What exactly had brought her to your doorstep that night? It had just been so unexpected. It left you so painfully curious for answers. There had to be more to the story. Not to mention, you also found yourself missing here once again: more so than before. A deep ache that came from an old forgotten wound that had begun to heal through time. A week had passed before you decided to do something stupid. It's amazing what you can find out online these days.

A bright sun sat high in the sky which left the air dry and you feeling warm. The hustle and bustle of city life was always your least favourite thing about living here and it was even worse today. Crowds of people stand behind a barrier that was maned by a few security guards. Did these people not having anything better to do than gawk at supes all day? You had basically scrubbed the internet to find out where she would be today which lead to a Twitter thread between someone called @MAEVESWIFE and @maelander who were talking about a vought commercial being shot outside the tower today. Queen Maeve and Homelander would both be there. But at least you personally knew here unlike these guys. It was kind of cool how many people idolised them. Working your way through the crowd, you earned some very dirty looks for trying to get to the front. Homelander and Maeve were in fact stood before a crew of people and a few cameras, smiling brightly and saying something you couldn't quite hear. Maeve seemingly spots you among the crowd so you wave a little. It was hard to figure out if she was happy or furious but she signals for a break and charged towards you. The crowd erupts with excitement as the Queen herself graces them with her presence and Homelander trails behind her. The woman offers nothing but polite smiles to the adoring fans as she takes your hand leading you along the length of the barrier and over to the threshold. It was safe to say that just about everyone who was still standing behind the security guards was very pissed off that you were getting special treatment.

"What are you doing here?" She growls through gritted teeth and a plastered on smile that disappears once you're out of view from prying eyes.

"I wanted to see you after-"

"Who's this?" You both turn to him and then back to each other.

"Oh my god, it's Homelander," You express, plastering on your brightest smile. Tall, Muscular with an award-winning smile. Bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair. The one and only Homelander walks up beside the two of you. It was almost humbling to be standing before the leader of the seven. He was so powerful- they both were and you were nothing short of ordinary.

"This is a closed set,"

Maeve didn't seem to know what to say exactly so you take it upon yourself to introduce yourself to him as her friend. Although you weren't even sure you could call yourself that at this point. It was a complicated relationship and considering you had broken up, it was the most appropriate label.

"Oh, She has never mentioned you,"

You're about to answer when Maeve takes your arm abruptly and pulls you away from the man. "Will you give us a second,"

A little confused, you give him a little wave goodbye paired with an awkward little smile. His eyes seem to trail after you but you think nothing of it.

"He's taller than expected," You muse aloud as attention falls back to your ex-girlfriend. Arms crossed over her chest and with a less than favourable expression on her face, it's pretty clear she isn't happy. Now she knows what it's like to have an ex show up unannounced.

"What do you want?" Maeve whisper yells at you. "I'm a little busy."

"I know just..." A quick glance to Homelander who had returned to his adoring fans. He had superhearing so you were pretty sure he could still hear you anyway. "after the other night I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"If everything was fine you wouldn't show up on my doorstep." A casual shrug of your shoulders. Maeve may be able to fake a smile for the cameras but it was always pretty obvious to you when she was lying to you.

"I said I'm fine. You need to leave."

"Maeve," A soft sigh leaves your lips and you take her hand in yours; brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. "You can talk to me."

"Leave," She growls, pulling her hand away. "Please."

"We need to talk about the other night- you at least owe me that."

With a deep breath, Maeve turns on her heel and begins to walk away. "I'm busy,"

For a moment you just watched her walk away then jogged after her. "Then we can talk later- you could come by tonight? I'll even make dinner."

"Fine. Now leave."

This time you let her walk away and continue making her little advertisement. You wouldn't admit to her that you stuck around a little longer. Even got a chance to talk to Homelander a little before heading home. Chill dude, if not a little intimidating. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to invite your ex-girlfriend over for dinner but you wanted to get to the bottom of all this. You were actually a little nervous for her to arrive. Cooking had never been your specialty but you wanted everything to be perfect. A quick stop on the way home to buy groceries, you worked on dinner since getting home. pacing around as you waited for her to arrive. And waited. And waited. and waited. Lucky for the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, Maeve didn't show up. It probably should have been expected. She had never been the most reliable person unless she was saving the world apparently.

A loud bang has you stirring awake before the sun. It was probably just the neighbours; a loud groan as you bury your face into the covers to go back to sleep. But the banging doesn't stop and you soon realise it's your door. Rolling over, you check your phone to see it's four in the morning. What could anyone want at this time in the morning? Dragging yourself from under the protection of the duvet, you cautiously head to the door. Peaking through the peephole to see... Queen Maeve. "Just give me a chance."

A chance? You weren't sure she deserved any more of those but you still unlock the door and pull it open. Glancing over her as she offers up a smile. Does she ever wear anything other than her armour? "Chances comes after nine am." You protest putting what little strength you had into trying to close the door. It was effortless on her end to keep it open.

"You invited me over, remember?"

"I invited you over for dinner, Maeve. No sane person has dinner at four in the morning."

"I forgot I had a team-up with Black Noir- Just let me in."

With a defeated sigh, you step aside and retire to the couch. Slumped down against the cushions, your head falls back as your eyes flutter closed. The click of your door infers she follows you inside.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm." You hum, nodding nonchalantly.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Maeve suggests and again, you nod. She was familiar with the apartment so she knew where everything was but it still felt a little odd to have her wandering around with such familiarity. Who just shows up this early for a serious talk? A silence comes between the two of you. She may have attempted to keep the conversation going in between asking if you wanted coffee and delivering it to you but you didn't notice. Sitting up as a hand is gently placed against your shoulder, she hands over a large mug.

Blowing gently over the top before you take a tentative sip; warmth radiated from the liquid as it slips down your throat. Maeve joins you, perching on the edge of the couch as if she was ready to leave again. Maybe she was now regretting her decision to visit. You were kind of regretting opening the door instead of just going back to sleep instead. Since you were up anyway, might as well make the most of it.

"I can- I can make you breakfast or something if you want? Since you... missed dinner."

"Oh great, yeah," Maeve responds.

"What would you like? Cereal, toast, pancakes maybe?"

"Pancakes would be great." Of course, they would. She had to pick the option that required the most effort. You didn't mind making her something as much as you just didn't want to get up.

"Alright just... give me a moment to wake up."

"You won't wake up if you keep trying to go back to sleep," A snarky remark that earned her a small smile, your middle finger shoots up in response. The two of you just sit in silence together and every few seconds or so you'd take a sip of the coffee she made. It was all feeling a little awkward. Placing the mug down on the coffee table, you rise and get started on making breakfast. Maeve moves from the couch to the kitchen table, fiddling with the little salt and pepper shakers that always resided there. You don't know what to say and clearly, neither does she.

"So... how are things?" You question as you whisk the mixture together.

"I'm fine, I guess" She shrugs a little. You can't help but sigh a little. "What?"

"Nothing," you insist, grabbing the frying pan and place it over a medium heat; Adding a blob of butter and some oil. "If you don't want to talk Maeve then why did you bother to come over?"

Placing down the salt and pepper shaker with a clink, her attention falls to you. "because you asked."

"Yeah, I asked to talk about the other night. You were clearly messed up."

"Why is it so hard to believe I was just looking to fuck?" It was really hard to believe but rather that you just knew it wasn't true. You were pretty sure Maeve had her choice of partners should she require one. So why come to your door?

"Because I'm not stupid" You pour the mixture into the pan with a satisfying sizzle. "I know you well enough to know that's bull."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Flipping the pancake over, you're taken back by her comment. Did you know Maeve as well as you thought? You had never expected her to just up and leave you one day and she did? She lived an entire superhero life that you knew nothing about. Maeve had always been pretty private when it came to that side of herself. You make another couple of pancakes before serving her up a plate.

"You aren't eating?"

"Too early," you return, taking up the seat opposite her. You watch as her fork pierce the surface of the pancake, cutting off a small piece and pop it into her mouth.

"Taste okay?"

"They're good," Mouth hidden behind the palm of her hand as she mumbled through her food. It lowered a moment later. "I came over because my job is hard. I was the in the area, I was having a tough day."

"A tough day?" Getting any sort of details out of her was like pulling teeth. Why was she so reluctant to speak to you? If she didn't want to have this conversation she should have just no turned up like she hadn't for dinner. Would have saved the effort and you could be sleeping right now.

"Yeah,"

"That's that then." Hands slap against the table as you rise from the seat. No point in sticking around if this wasn't going anywhere. "Case closed. When you're finished just leave the plate in the sink, I'm going back to bed."

"Seriously?"

"You woke me up at four am just to tell me you had a bad day. Shit, I have plenty of bad days, I don't show up at Vought tower." You start walking back towards your bedroom although your slow, hesitant even like you were just waiting for an excuse to turn back.

"I really was having a bad day," she repeats. "Really bad. And all I could think about was seeing you." And getting drunk, guess she just conveniently forgot about that part. There were many moments although brief where you were having a hard time and you thought about going to see Maeve. She used to be such a big part of your life it was almost an instinct to return to her for comfort. You never actually did obviously. As pathetic as her explanation was, it brought you back to the dining table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"What's the worst thing you could ever imagine?"

"Huh?" What kind of question was that?

"Just answer it,"

Your mouth opens but no answer comes to mind at all. You were more curious about the reason behind it. It's too early for philosophical debates and it had nothing to do with anything you had been talking about. "uh, I don't know... post-apocalyptic zombie invasion, maybe?"

"Can you take this seriously?"

"I am," you huff. It was a stupid question anyway. "Zombies-"

"really freak you out, I remember." Strange thing to remember. It couldn't have come up in conversation often. It was a little funny the small things people remembered about each other. "I meant something that could actually happen though. I've seen some pretty fucked up shit."

"Like what?" She turns to you like she's about to say something but quickly stops herself. Continuing the eat the breakfast you so lovingly prepared. With the way she had been playing with her food, you suspected she no longer wanted it despite having hardly eaten any.

"Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I could just live a normal life or whatever"

"Nothing glamorous about a normal life," You stifle a yawn. "I think I'd rather be adored by millions and save the day but we aren't all lucky enough to have powers."

"Lucky," A bitter laugh. "I wouldn't call myself lucky."

"You're being so weird." You comment, a quirked brow.

"I would rather be adored by one person who truly means it."

"Guess that's all anyone wants. Supe or not."

Her eyes meet yours for a few seconds before dropping. Did she mean you? There was no doubt you had feelings for the woman and very much still did. But you can't imagine it's anything compared to the weirdos who worship the ground she walks on. They obviously didn't really know her and vice versa but still. There was an element of pureness that came with being so dedicated to someone. "You never answered my question."

"I don't know Maeve it's too early..." You grumble. "Do you want me to say something like war or famine or something?"

"Not unless it's the truth."

Everyone wished for world peace. Everyone wanted to feed the hungry. House the homeless. Basic answers that any decent person would come up with. It lacked originality. It lacked feeling. Everyone would probably have a more personal reason."What's yours?"

"Something happening to you... because of me."

"Really? That's the worst thing you can think of?" Didn't she just say she had seen a lot of messed up stuff and yet her concern resided with you? What did she think would happen? And didn't a broken heart technically count as something happening because of her? Shifting in your seat, you lean down onto the table before you. Thinking of your own answer. The worst thing you could imagine?

"I answered," she shrugs but doesn't elaborate. "Now you go."

"I guess... finding out you died," Should you admit something like that? "You're the strongest person I know. I still... care for you. I'm not sure I would handle it well- Is that a better answer?"

"It's sufficient."

"Sufficient? I really don't know what you want from me Maeve? I don't know what the worst thing is, okay? I'm too tired for this shit."

She places her cutlery carefully on the plate, pushing out her seat. "I should go."

"Maeve?"

"I'll go, you can go back to bed. I don't even know why I came here."

"No. Stay. I wanna talk."

" Let's just forget this ever happened." Brushing herself off, Maeve heads back towards the door. This whole back and forth was growing awfully tiresome. Every time you thought you scratched the surface of her mask, there was a new layer underneath more impenetrable than the last. Maybe you should just let her go? It'd be easier. It was probably for the best too but when she had shown up at your door the other night, you realised just how much you still wanted this. Still wanted her. She may have left you one day without any explanation but seeing her for the first time in a long time had brushed all rational thought aside. You were in love with her even now. Tears brimmed your eyes whether it was due to tiredness or a flush of emotions, it was unclear.

"If you walk out that door I'm done," You declare as confidently as you can. Hoping your sadness was hidden amongst the dim light that filled the entire room. "Don't bother showing up on my doorstep when you have a shitty day." Maeve pauses with her hand on the doorknob but only for a second before twisting the handle and pulling open the door. "Maeve... just tell me what's going on with you, please."

"Everything I have done to you was to protect you." Final words as she leaves. The door clicking behind her. To protect you? From what? What was she even talking about anymore. Anger bubbles deep inside you and you find yourself charging after her. Bursting out into the chilly hallway, you catch her in the corner of your eye. She was leaning against the wall just outside your apartment basking in the flicker of the corridor light.

"Protect me from what?" You wonder quietly, taking a wary step closer. "I don't understand."

"...Homelander." Voice but a whisper mumbled into the darkness. Homelander? The Homelander? Why would you need protection from him, you didn't even know him? Plus he was like a beloved superhero and the last time you checked, superheroes were the good guys.

"You're scared of... the world's greatest superhero?"

"Never meet your heroes."

"Aren't you two like friends? You even dated him. Why are you scared of him?" Another step closer, you lay your hand tenderly on her shoulder. An attempt to support her even if you didn't understand the situation. "He didn't seem so bad when I met him yesterday. I actually spoke with him after."

"You spoke after? Why?" Maeve snarled swiftly making you back away a little only for her hand to snap around your wrist. Cold fingertips apply a deep pressure to your skin as if it's taking everything in her not to press harder. You swallow hard, confused by her anger. "I told you to leave"

"It- it's not a big deal. He just wanted to know more about us," Even you can hear the panic in your voice as you struggle to get the words out. It was a little embarrassing, to say the least, but you'd never really experienced this side of Maeve before. Her anger had never really been directed towards you.

"And you told him?"

"Yeah. He took it pretty well actually, I was surprised. "

"How can you be so fucking stupid?" Her grasp begins to stiffen around your wrist. Maeve was strong, inhumanly so. If she wanted to she could break every one of your bones like it was nothing. That never used to bother you so much but in this instance, your own weakness had never been more apparent.

"Maeve," You struggle against her grip, a pleading look as you meet the brown of her eyes. "...You're scaring me,"

Those magic words seemed to break the spell that had come over her and Maeve released you in an instant. Regret washing off her face in record time. "I'm sorry, okay- I'm sorry," You take a step back; the other hand rubbing at the wrist she just let go off. "I didn't mean to- I wouldn't hurt you."

"I... let's just go back inside." It's hard to pretend that didn't just happen. That Maeve didn't almost crush your wrist for doing the wrong thing. But it wasn't her fault, right? She just isn't herself at the moment. Her emotions got the best of her when she found out you told Homelander about your relationship. Warily, you hold out your hand in offering. It's a little shakey but you just hope she doesn't notice as she takes your hand and you lead the way back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind the two of you, you return to the couch. Sat on either ends so you're as far away as possible without being on the floor, things are feeling a little awkward now. You can't help but focus on your wrist, the feeling of her hand still lingers in a ghostly embrace. "I'm sorry I told Homelander about us."

"You didn't know..."Maeve lets out a heavy sigh as she turns to face you. "Homelander is a monster. He's hurt people just for looking at me funny- "

"Oh." A little surprising to hear. You had always kind of suspected Homelander was a bit of an arsehole but not that he was inherently a bad person. He saves people after all. You've seen him save people. He was basically on the news every other day or in the newspaper or trending on Twitter. There was no evidence to supporting Maeve's theory but you also had no reason not to trust her. She had no reason to lie to you.

"He's done atrocious things. He's made me do atrocious things. I was trying to protect you from him- and from myself,"

"...Why are you telling me this now?" Couldn't she have just told you all this from the beginning? It still didn't explain why she had just shown up the other day either? Clearly, something had happened between her and Homelander at least that's what you gathered from the context.

"To keep you safe," Maeve returns. "So you'll stop hating me."

"I could never hate you," An offer of a faint smile that may or may not betray you. When she had first left you, you were so filled with hatred but it was so hard to stay angry at her. You didn't hate her anymore but you couldn't say you were simply over it now. "It's not your fault."

"It is though- I put you in this situation. I let those people die,"

"What are you talking about? What people?" Every time Maeve opened her mouth you grew slightly more confused and you didn't know how to help. Watching her with an inquisitive eye, you notice as a tear or two begins to glide down her rose-tinted cheeks. It was enough to bring your walls crashing down. Whatever she was talking about must be really affecting her for her to start crying. A hand reaches out only to pull back as you remember what happened last time. You take a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.

"I should have stood up to him but I was scared."

"Scared of Homelander," You repeat. Still trying to process the information.

"I don't want to be a monster like him." Against your better judgement, this time you shuffle closer and entice her into a soothing hug. Holding onto her tightly like you never wanted to let go because frankly, you didn't. Maeve was warm, she was safe. You wanted to offer her that same sense of comfort even if it was impossible. You wanted to drown in her affection.

"You're not a monster, Maeve" The other woman melts into your caring touch, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You were so used to confident, super-strong Maeve that it was a little weird to have her be so vulnerable. Especially sober. But even your words weren't enough to trick your brain into quelling that twinge of fear that now resides in you. "Whatever's going on, I'm gonna help you get through it. I promise."

#the boys #Queen Maeve #queen maeve x reader #queen maeve imagine #dominique mcelligott

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pretty-face-breaker · 3 years

Text

Need to Ruin Him

c.w. aftermath of torture, cleaning up wounds, bad caretaking, intimidation, manhandling, torture by rubbing brine solution into welts, sadism, begging

—

The spring mattress creaked as Emir clattered on top of it.

“Take off-...” Pavel stopped, shooting a second look at his bare back, and audibly snorted. “Never mind, just… lie down and I’ll get things to make you look better.”

Emir whined as he tried to curl in on himself although the loosely tucked bedsheet stopped his arms from getting far. Breathing deep, he took in a whiff of wool and the smell of decay from the old sheets. He could see the almost invisible black speckling against the green, this close up and through his tears.

He wasn’t certain whether the shock of the whip-marks had worn off. He had only the vague understanding that his back hurt. There was dampness in his hair, the crooks of his body, and on his face but those quickly dried in salty tracks. Hardly there anymore.

“Bet that’s the last time you’ll do that,” Pavel mumbled. He could see the residue of his crying, the swollen eyes when he turned his head.

The General had spared no part of the exposed skin, it seemed.

Emir didn’t respond for a few moments as the quiet clutters of Pavel grouping equipment together filled the silence. Then, he lifted his head and the shift in breathing got the man’s attention. But all the abused boy was doing was pulling the corner of a pillow under his chin before he collapsed again.

Pavel raked his eyes up and down the body, once. Inhaled slowly before turning to stack the peroxide next to the rubber bandage seal. He remembered this one had been produced with a rubber cover so it wouldn’t disintegrate as easily as the paper ones had and recalled how the camp had looked on as the supply trucks had filled in with the equipment during daily drills.

He had jokingly saluted one of the drivers who had turned and smiled. A bright row of pearly whites had peaked beneath the moustache before he had gone ahead and returned the gesture. The image of the ideal worker had been complete.

Pavel had thought about that man for the rest of the week, inspired by the strength in the smile.

Spinning on his heel, he returned to where Emir lay half-conscious. “Hey, Suleiman. Look at me.”

There was a groan and shift. “Don’ call me that,” Emir protested weakly, although his voice was strained with pain and struggle to recognize where the two were. The view didn’t look like the flat one out of his bed with only an iron window and darkness.

The mattress dipped as he sat. “I’ll call you Edward, if I really want to.” Pavel encouragingly drove the heel of his hand into the boy’s lower back so he jerked and cried out feebly. The faded softness of that pretty little cry made Pavel’s heart race a little and he grinned against his better control. “Sit up or I do that again.”

Seeing no way out of moving, Emir sighed and winced his way to sitting, facing away from the blond man and his amalgamation of terrible-smelling instruments. Whatever chemicals those were, antiseptic, sterile bandages, they hardly smelled anything close to home. The word home and ‘стерильный’ met his mind at the same time when he threw a glance down to Pavel’s medical tray.

“Sterile,” he read. His throat scratched and the word broke in two.

Pavel had been tearing open the rubberized protector of the bandages when he stopped with a little smirk. “Yeah. Although, you don’t usually need reading abilities here unless someone sneaks in one of those raunchy magazines.”

Emir returned a mechanical smile as the rubber tore open until Pavel winked at him and it was then that he raised his eyebrows and broke into a heartier chuckle. Realizing that he had paid the cheap joke with laughter made him clench his jaw in annoyance.

It was never his intention to get amicable with the enemy but he supposed this one was patching him up which made it easier.

The bandages were out of the sleeve now - a roll of brown gauze, pin, and two sterile cotton pads. He did notice another thing though, and that was the unsealed opaque jar sitting next to all the bottles. Being close enough, he could almost catch a salty scent sharp in the air.

A hand quickly covered the top when Emir glanced up. Only slightly taller than him, Pavel’s cheeky smile had transformed into something crooked and cornering. “No peeking now,” he teased. Then, the tone quickly dropped to threatening, traced with amusement.

“Turn around and don’t make so much noise that people have to come up from an early lunch.”

Emir’s fingers were tightening around the sheets nervously but he didn’t want to give Pavel another reason to make him feel wave upon wave of the same agony he’d gone through minutes before. He exhaled softly and turned to lock eyes with the window, hoping he’d come across as ignorant enough of the jar.

But what did he care whether he knew? All the better for that sadistic fuck.

Emir didn’t expect the initial sting as Pavel dipped the cloth into the murky solution and lathered it across his back without warning. Fingers digging hard into the sheets, he squeaked and darkened instantly after, the noise being involuntary. A rumbling laugh made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” Pavel eased him with his usual mockery of lightness. “This’ll do the trick for all those nasty welts, trust me.” Then, pressed the cloth deeper into one particular stripe that had sliced through him and rendered him speechless, killing the yell on his tongue as General Levkin had brought the leather down.

The yell was alive now and ripped through his teeth. He was too fucking tired to try to choke them back and what harm was it really? Pavel seemed pleased with the pitch of his wrecked voice and he could alleviate the burning that was eating through his back each time the rag switched directions.

He wasn’t cleaning, he was scrubbing him.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Argh-... Can you p-please go a bit easier?” He despised Pavel right now, for the pain before, the pain to come, and for rendering him to beg and refresh the dried tear tracks. Blinking quickly, Emir hoped he had caught the tears before they slipped.

“How else am I supposed to disinfect you? You’re not the first to get whipped.” Pavel’s lilt coiled around his back and legs.

“Just please-... a little- agh!”

Emir dropped his chin into his collarbone and squeezed. The strain on his neck was awful. The brine's stench was awful and so sharp in his nose, he swore something would start bleeding soon. At one particularly brutal dig, he gasped and arched away. Pavel’s hand shot to his shoulder and yanked him back in an instant.

“Stay still, you little shit,” he snarled.

Emir feebly whispered back. “It hurts.”

Pavel wanted to break into a cackle and tell him that of course it hurt and call him a whole assortment of insults for not realising he was doing it on purpose. Though, amidst the torment, he saw the way his light brown shoulders shook from how hard he gripped the mattress.

It was a satisfying sight, how hard he was trying to be quiet and then the next moment when he gave up and let his whimpers seep through teeth. A tug of war between his pride and just letting it happen.

“Plea-... mercy,” Emir gasped at last.

Pavel was mid-assault on another open welt when he stopped and let his wrist ease off, dropping finally. He choked out relief but the aftershocks of the salt still must have felt like fire.

Not once during the whipping had he even given the impression that he would beg for it. Not once, and Pavel had been fully confident that the little soldier would wait it out like he did everything with a dormant tongue. Looking at Emir now, he knew that just a little more would have him sobbing and begging in that sweet, wrecked voice-

Mercy, mercy, mercy

“Have mercy, please, God, m-mercy,” Emir hissed again. His arms shook as he held back a ruined sob. “I don’t deserve this.”

Pavel had stopped now. He was clouded with thoughts that weighed down his hands which were eager for another spin. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, whether for Emir to collect himself - if he could - or to have the thrill to hurt again, to push him over the edge.

The need to ruin him never came while he was thinking. It left him with dull annoyance as he realized he wanted to leave Emir alone, no longer bloodthirsty. It wracked his brain, the longer he debated just continuing.

He did deserve it and Pavel was entitled to do it.

Besides, Emir would probably look beautiful.

But he didn’t. He dropped the rag, saying nothing, and grabbed the alcohol bottle that was actually medically approved for use unlike his masterfully crafted brine solution. Dabbing some liquid onto a fresh cloth, he applied it gently to the welts but still got that thrill of joy when Emir flinched away.

“Alcohol,” he corrected quietly. “Not brine.”

Shivering from the cold and not the pain, Emir nodded weakly and straightened back into his spot. Another moment passed before Pavel was back to work and dabbing away at the redness until he felt the smell of antiseptic was strong enough and switched to the pads. Only two were available. One went on the worst laceration.

The second, on the one he had created by accident.

Emir was still shivering.

He unrolled the gauze and began wrapping it around the boy’s ribcage until the width of all fifteen feet trickled away. The roll felt so much lighter in his hand when he was finished applying it and pulling the end tight. He flicked it to the end of the bed, liking the little thunk it made at the metal footboard.

“Done.” Pavel pushed the tray away from him and Emir gathered up the strength to move.

“Thank-…” Then, a laboured swallow. “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond. Emir looked beyond exhaustion. All he did was push his head gently down onto the pillow and let the rest of his limbs take their natural place for comfort.

He sat there for a long time, watching Emir’s chest rise and fall in even breaths, the sharp stench of alcohol and brine lingering in his nose for almost an hour.

Tagging: @straight-to-the-pain @heathenville @quirkykayleetam @yet-another-heathen @undertheburrow @lektricfergus

Ask if you’d like to be added/removed!

#whump #whump writing #whump drabble #torture #caretaking #whumper as caretaker #bad caretaker #sadistic whumper #begging #manhandling #wartime whump #military whump #ussr #aftermath of torture

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alldayangst · 3 years

Text

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet.

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book.

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly.

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball.

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?”

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.”

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two.

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true.

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it.

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

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moonyswriting · 3 years

Text

Pride

Happy Pride Month everyone! Whether you queer or questioning, closeted or out, I am so proud of you, you are valid and perfect! Remember that you never have to come out if you don’t want to. You’re not lying to anyone if you don’t. You don’t owe them to come out. Only do it if you want to. Also remember that labels can stay forever or can change and both is perfectly normal. You're fantastic the way you are. <3

So, I managed to write a pride fic for the first day of pride month! yay me. I hope you like it :)

Thank you for the idea @moonofthenight

Characters by @lumosinlove

When Pascal came into their living room it had never looked more colourful, but it had also not looked this messy in a long time. There was tape on all four sides of the table, paper and little paper cut outs all over the floor and in the middle of everything, all his four children, looking like deer in the headlights.

“What happened?”, he asked slowly. There would be a reasonable explanation for all of this, he was sure. Celeste had probably helped and they would clean everything back up in no time, leaving no trace of a mess before the team came over for dinner tonight.

Adele shuffled over looking at the floor. “Um,” she stared before glazing back at her siblings, who nodded at her encouragingly. “So, we decided to make some things for the others. You know, since you’re having that Pride Party tonight? We thought we’d make little gifts for the team.”

Oh, Pascal’s heart was already a puddle. “You-”, he stared, but couldn’t continue. He had questioned a lot if he should have raised his children differently, more open to the rainbow or attractions and genders (or lack thereof) that was out there, but this made him feel like he and Celeste had at least done some things right.

Pascal only realised he hadn’t properly said anything yet when Katie rushed towards him, hugging his hip. “Please don’t be mad. I promise, we’ll clean it all up. Mama said she’d help us!”, the big eyes of his youngest daughter stared up at him, guilty, but hopeful.

“I’m not mad, mon chou.”, picking her up, he turned towards the other three, still standing in front of him. “Not at any of you. This is an incredible idea! The team will love them. Thank you so much, it’s really thoughtful.” Leaning down, he placed a kiss on each of his childrens’ foreheads, including Katie’s before setting her down to get back to the others. Celeste walked through the door the next moment, flowers of all colours in her hand.

“You found our little pride squad then?”she asked, walking past him and into the kitchen, probably to cut off the ends of the stems. “Don’t worry, I’ll help them clean up and we’ll be done before any of your teammates even leave their houses.”

His wife knew him too well. He hated when other people visited them and their house was messy. Of course there had been times where he couldn’t really keep it clean with four toddlers running around, but he still always tried and his family knew that and helped him. It wasn’t really that it bothered him that visitors could see that they were possibly not clean people, it was just the principle. He thought it should that they were prepared and anticipated someone’s visit. He never wanted them to think it was a bad time to visit because he would eventually excuse the mess. He always wanted everyone to feel welcome.

And that’s what tonight would be about. Making his team feel always welcomed and loved and accepted.

Celeste returned back to their dining room without the flowers, kissing Pacal’s cheek and then turning towards their children. “Did you show him what you made already?” they shook their heads but quickly climbed up onto chairs and sorted through the things they had made. “They’re all really cute, I already saw some of them.” Celeste whispered giddily into his ear, as excitement bloomed in his chest and they walked over to look at the crafts.

“Here!” Katie waved a piece of paper in the air and Pascal walked around the table to look at what she had made. SHe beamed up at him as she explained, “This is for Tremzy! And Harzy and Knutty! It’s a card and I drew Lo, Leo and Finn on the front, see!” The man took the card in his hands. There were three stick figures on it, the smallest with brown hair, the next one with bright red hair and the last, taller than the other with yellow hair. In the back there were blue, red and black dots. “Why did you use those colours, ma petite?” He did have an idea, but with the many coloured pens on the table it could have just been a coincidence.

He could see Katie look over to Adele and Marc, before her eyes met his again. “Del and Marc said that those are the colours when you have more than one love and Logan has Finn and Leo, so they said I should use those. They look good together right?” Pascal could see that he wasn’t the only one close to tears after glazing over at Celeste smiling brightly. “Yes, Katie, it looks beautiful. Lo, Leo and Finn will love it! Adele, Marc, thank you for helping your sister. I know that this will mean a lot to Logan.” then as if he couldn’t help but to add, “I’m also very proud of you for looking up pride flag colours. I’m really happy you're informing yourself about these topics. They’re important.”

They all smiled at him. Pascal went over to Louis next. “I made two! This one is a card for Olli and Del and Marc also helped me with colours, so it's black, grey, white and this really nice purple that Katie gave me. It didn’t really match the photo, but I liked it better than the really dark one. Do you think he’ll mind?” The fact that his youngest son actually looked concerned staring down at his work had a tear spilling over. He let out a wet chuckle. “Non, je pense qu’il va l'adorer, c’est parfait. For who is the green one?” Louis pulled it out from under his other one and now Pascal could see it was not just green. There were black, grey, white and purple stripes on it too. “It’s for Reg! See, it’s got these stripes and then I drew this heart above it, cause even though he doesn’t want a boyfriend like Siri, he still gets all the love he needs from me and Siri and you and Re and the rest of the team!” Celeste came over and placed a kiss on his cheek, “He loves you too, mon lapinou. They look amazing.”

He walked over to his older son, he didn’t know if he could be any prouder of them. “ I made one for Kasey, Nat and Alex.” Marc stated as he handed his father one of the cards he had made. There were three heads on it, one with long blond hair and hoop earrings, one with light brown hair to the shoulders and one with dark red hair, freckles filling up more of his face than the light pink his son had used for all their skin tones. Pascal was about to compliment it, when Marc gave him another one. “This one is for Nado and Kuny. I made it full of hearts in pan and bi colours, because you mentioned that once and I really hope it’s right.” before Pascal could even think his next thought a stack of cards was placed in his hands. “And then for some of then we didn’t know, but we didn’t want them to feel left out or asume, so I made some rainbow ones for Pots, Talker, Sergei, Timmers, Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, Volley, Wrangler, Sunny and Foxy.”

Pascal was a bit shaken, not only that his son even remembered everyone of his teammates, without missing a single one, but at him having crafted every single one of them a rainbow card. “They will all love them, I’m sure. They look incredible.”

He saw Adele look down at her cards and moving them slightly out of view. Frowning, he walked over to her, “Did you also make something, ma colombe?” She nodded, pulling out one of her cards and holding it up for him to see. It was beautiful. She had glued blue magazine cut outs on the top of the cards, which got lighter til they reached a white in the middle and to green ones at the bottom. Over it there was a heart which read “Some hockey players marry their PT, get over it” He didn’t know how she had thought of that, but it was true and funny and so Adele, Pascal had no choice but to love it.

“These are all perfect. Thank you so, so much for making them, they’ll all love them I’m sure. We can tell them to all sit down in the living room so you can give them their cards later, sounds good?” They all nodded, seemingly happy with the idea. “Now let’s clean up before they come here and don’t recognize the place, eh?” All of them nodded as they got up, Celeste telling them where to start and how to clean it.

Pascal moved to the kitchen with the tray of now empty glasses Celeste had no doubt gotten them earlier, when he heard something behind him. Once he had carefully placed down everything he turned around to see Adele standing in the kitchen, arms behind her back. He waited for her to speak for only a moment until she did. “So, you saw that we made cards for everyone, because they’re all great and we should let them know we love and support them, right?” Pascal nodded, letting her continue, “But there’s one more card I made,” Pascal had counted before, his children hadn’t forgotten a single one of his teammates, he had no clue what that last card could be for. “because it’s important that they know they’re loved right?” she continued, “that’s a really important part of all of this. So,” she slowly pulled out a card from behind her back, “this one is for exactly that. Just because someone’s not queer or questioning, doesn’t mean they’re not important this month. It’s not the main focus of it, of course, but having allies is a big part of being able to be proud of who they are for some people. I wanted to thank you for that. I could have gotten some homophobic dad like some of my classmates, but I’m really, really glad I got you.”

She handed him the card she had made, similar to the collage of magazines but in black and white stripes with a rainbow A covering it. He couldn’t help the wetness that gathered in his eyes again. And here he had thought the emotional stuff wouldn’t be until the team arrived. He walked forward and hugged his oldest daughter. “Thank you so, so much,” he whispered, since he didn’t trust himself with anything else to come out anywhere close to evenly, “Thank you, ma petite. I am so proud to have you as my daughter. You’re the best children I could have ever asked for.”

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Can I order spaghetti (msby) with mashed potatoes and green beans split between me and atsumu?

YES AHHHHH thank you for giving me my first haikyuu ask!!!! This was so much fun to write and think about!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE MANY MANY APOLOGIES

A/n: I wrote this with some ideas I got from @cestcirque and her smau (which you absolutely must check out!) for this soulmate au, when you look into the eyes of your soulmate your world changes from black and whites to bursting with color. This is also post time skip so Atsumu is a wonderful black jackal

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x photographer!fem!reader

once again I got carried away what else did you expect from me

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy calling, biting, slight edging, oral (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, relatively tame!

Enjoy your meal

~~~~~~~~

With sweat dripping down his face, Miya Atsumu was bursting with energy. It was down to the final point of the match and he was itching to win. It’s already been over a month since Hinata joined MSBY and their chemistry on the court has been proven a formidable force. First against the Adlers, and now with his former high school teammates team, EJP. His eyes are alight with a fire and desire to win. He can feel the rush of winning cloud over him as he keeps his eye on his teammates, setting the ball perfectly to the man everyone describes as an orange haired ball of sunshine in order to score the final set point. The yell of victory leaves his throat before he can process everything. His eyes scans the crowd of fans that have come to watch him, being excited but also a pang of emptiness hits him.

If only he could see the colors everyone talks about around him.

Everything is greyscale for the man, who he’s been told has a strange yellow hue to his hair. Atsumu didn’t know what the color would look like but liked how it would be marked as different and easy to see when you get to see color. He resents the fact that his twin Osamu laughs freely at his hair color. The normal haired twin, to him, had met his soulmate in one of his business classes and demanded a facetime with his twin. Atsumu was angry at first, but on the inside was happy his brother had met his soulmate and his life bursting with color.

Surely, he’d meet his soon right?

Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto wraps his arm around his shoulder to pull him into a hug and briefly chat.

“Hey hey hey! Why didn’t you set it to me at the end, huh? You can’t keep giving Hinata all the glory!”

“They were expectin’ ya. I couldn’t Bo. ‘Sides, we won that’s all that matters.”

The flash of cameras after games were very common. With different sports magazines and editors showing up to cover the game, it was something the team was used to. As per usual, a camera-person came up to him and Bokuto, completely ignoring who was taking the picture focusing on the lens. Once his eyes meet the lens, he puts on his signature smile and puts a thumbs up with his teammate for the photo op.

It had all happened so fast.

You had been called to fill in at the last minute to take photos for the MSBY Black Jackals volleyball game. You didn’t think anything of it other than doing a favor for a friend. And this was an incredible opportunity for you, an amazing way to expand your sprouting portfolio. In this world of soulmates you live in, it was unheard of. Your pictures and photos always came out with the utmost care and perfection, despite not being able to see any of the colors to truly work the right lighting and angles. Even though touching and editing required the use of being able to see colors, somehow your eyes went beyond that and captured everything in a natural way that everyone could understand the message and point of all your photos.

It was absolutely exquisite and breathtaking.

You had never been to a volleyball game before and you were hit with how exciting it was. The energy from the players and the fast fed into your blood as you began and continued to capture pictures of the game. It wasn’t just a regular game, it was an experience and you figured it was different for everyone. And as you felt that, you knew you wanted to capture it.

It was in moments like these you envied those around you who were able to see color. You yearned for the day you would be able to see all the colors that your peers and employers have paraded you for. Hopefully when you finally meet the one, you’ll be able to do your job even better.

Before you knew it, the game had ended and you were doing what all the other photographers were doing by taking pictures of the tired and sweaty players as they interact with each other and their fans. You slowly walk toward the court, fixing and switching your lenses for up close pictures. You happen to place your camera right at your eye, seeing two players not looking your way yet as they were engaged in their own private conversation. Once you get their attention, you make eye contact with both before snapping the picture.

You had almost dropped your camera, lucky for the strap around your neck holding it together. You don’t even check your camera, knowing the picture came out horrible. But as you hold the black camera in your hands with your jaw slack-

Wait, black? That’s right it’s black.

And one of the two players in front of you had a matched expression on his face.

Atsumu should have asked his brother what it would be like when he meets his soulmate in order to prepare himself. He’s seriously kicking himself now as the bright white lights bounce of the beige and tan floor of the wooden court. He looks down to see his black and white jersey, the streaks of red and green on certain parts of the floor, the blues, yellows, and whites of the volleyball...

And the all encasing beauty that was you.

Everything about you was stunning, he wasn’t sure where to look next. However his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous yell next to him.

“Hey ‘Tsumu! Why’d you stop?”

The blond haired man turns to his friend and gives him a new look over. “Did ya know yer hair is two diff’rent colors?”

Bokuto freezes and attempts to look up at his hair and smiles widely. “Yeah! Yukie keeps it nice for me and- No way! Where are they?”

The owl like man quickly shakes his head back and forth throughout the crowd looking for his teammates soulmate is! He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from the man in question.

Atsumu points to where you’re still starstruck, taking in everything around you.

“Her.”

You felt as if time had lost all meaning as the colors all around you began to come to life, being as lively and vibrant as everyone above you had described. You had zero expectations of ever meeting your soulmate, let alone at a randomly assigned job. You’re unaware of what your body is doing, but your feet are moving across the plane as you walk closer to the man who’s staring at you in a way you’d always hoped to be gazed at.

He’s taller than you thought he’d be up close, but you can smell his musk and sweat and you’re not turned off like you’d always been. The way his bright yellow hair matches his personality, from what you’ve seen, on the court makes your heart melt. It’s almost like everything about him is perfect. The way his eyes are tired but full of vitality isn’t lost on you, and he seems to see the same thing in yours.

Atsumu for once is at a loss for words. There’s so many ways he had pictured this going but surely not like this. He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes catch a gathering crowd.

“Aw, shoot. There’s for sure gonna be a crowd comin’. Meet me after by the exit? I promise I’ll make it quick...”

“(Y-y/n).”

He chuckles and places one hand on his hip and the other in his hair. “Heh, cute name for a cutie like ya self. Name’s Atsumu. Wait for me will ya?”

You merely nod and watch him smirk at you before he meets up with his teammates to celebrate their win. You’re left standing there trying to process what just happened as he turns around one more time to wink at you. If you could melt, you would. You gather your yourself, pick up your camera and try to stealthily avoid any reporters and the like. Since this was your first volleyball match, you had no idea the power just being in the presence of Miya Atsumu held.

Fan girls and other photographers began to swarm you as you attempted to blend in the crowd. All these women had beautiful hair, beautiful complexions; you couldn’t wait to start taking photos in color. Not the right thought to have as you’re getting bombarded but what can you do?

Luckily you’re swept away by another photographer who saw your pain and helped you out. You thanked her and followed her to where the media had access. She wished you luck as she led you to where Atsumu wanted you to meet him.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out with a few of his teammates, laughing gleefully and somehow that made your heart flutter. How did you get paired up with a man like this? The soulmate gods must have really been looking out for you.

Once his beautiful deep eyes meet yours, his gaze softens as he walks toward you. His teammates tell him goodbye and that they’ll message him later. As he approaches you, he has to pinch himself to realize that this is real and it’s happening to him.

He speaks up first again, eager to hear your voice again. “Hiya.”

You giggle at his intro. To him, it sounded like heaven opened up and the angels were singing all around him. He gets to have this laugh to himself? Call himself blessed.

“I never thought I’d actually meet ma soulmate. And yet, here ya are.”

He extends his hand out to you and you take it, noticing how warm and calloused it is against yours. There’s no way life could be this perfect. You rub your thumb on the back of his palm and stare into his eyes.

“Here we are.”

************

You’d think you’d be used to hosting events for his teammates at your shared place after almost a couple years of being together. but something always surprises you. This time, it turned out fate was working in mysterious ways today. On the way to your place, Hinata had met his soulmate and brought them to the gathering! Needless to say they were overwhelmed but in a good way. Sakusa was slightly concerned over the presence of someone new whom he didn’t know very well, but tolerated it for his friend’s happiness.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes as Atsumu dries whatever is left. You wipe your brow and sigh heavily. Your boyfriend looks over to you and smirks.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout baby?”

You smirk at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, “just, life I guess.”

The young man sighs contentedly, places the dried dishes in the rack, and kisses your forehead. “Care to elaborate? Or am I gonna have to tickle the info outta ya?”

You hear the smirk in his tone as he wraps his arms around your waist, pinching and tickling your sides. Your laugh bubbles in the air as you squeal and squirm against Atsumu’s grip. His tout body keeps you against him, holding you tight so you can’t escape his embrace. “’Tsumu! I give, I give!”

“Nuh uh babycakes,” he growls in your ear, “I’m not done with ya.”

You laugh harder as you feel him lift you off the ground, turn you around, and sit you on the counter. With his hands firmly on your waist, he surprises you with a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. Your hands fall onto his neck and face to pull him closer to you.

You pull away and notice him bite his lip. “What was that for?” You don’t miss the way his eyes glaze over as you question him.

“I just love ya so much. I never thought life would be s’ fulfilling once I got some color into it. Thought it was all mumbo jumbo, whatever.” He places his body in between your legs, letting your breaths intermingle. “Ya love my team, my friends, my family, and most importantly,” he trails off brushing your noses together.

“Ya love me.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hah?! But that’s why ya love me, right?”

You keep teasing him as you continue to touch along his broad shoulders. “Nah, I’m mostly in it for the money.” You peck his nose and grin at his pouting features.

“Aw c’mon (Y/n)! Yer making almost as much as me with all yer photos,” he argues back, missing your teasing tone. You can’t help but laugh at the pout your soulmate is giving you. It’s almost too easy to fake argue with him to get him riled up.

You lay your head on his shoulder and can’t hold back your laughs. “Baby,” you coo, “you know I’m teasing you right?”

Since you can’t see his face, you don’t see the ever growing smirk as he nods into you. The blond tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you into his crotch so your neck is free for him to attack with his lips. He starts to kiss and suck lightly on your open neck, catching you off guard.

“Oh I know baby,” he lightly grinds his clothed erection against you, “I was just messin’ with ya.”

You lift your head in fake anger, but it dissolves when the lust in his eyes matches yours. He steals your lips before you could protest or bite back a response. The burning desire within you begins to rise as you feel his cock against your core, causing you to moan lowly into his mouth.

“Mmm, feel my cock baby? Feels good, yeah? Been wantin to touch ya all evenin’.” He then brings your legs to wrap around his waist and continues to kiss you seductively. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before entering your mouth. His deep groan into went straight to your core and you move your hips into him. Atsumu lifts an eyebrow before pulling away, loving the connection of saliva between your lips.

“I can already feel how wet ya are fer me, baby. Ya really want daddy that bad, huh?”

You can’t help but shiver at his voice when he says daddy to you and wiggle your hips, knowing what you’re in for. A whine leaves your lips as you pull him into your chest to feel him against you and so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, your daddy.

Atsumu bites his lip and rolls his hips into yours at hearing and feeling your breath on his ear. He then promptly lifts you up, rest thing his lips to yours as his hands grope and fondle your ass. You can’t help but shift around as he carries you to your shared bedroom, seeking friction in any capacity. Atsumu chuckles darkly feeling you struggle against him, breaking the kiss to suck on your neck. If there was something he loved more than volleyball or you, it was leaving marks and traces of him all over you. Satisfied with the mark he left he growls out,

“I can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy you, princess.”

With that, you’re dropped onto the bed, awaiting orders from your love. His whole aura switched from teasing and playful in the kitchen to a sexual dom and you were living for it.

“Take off yer shirt off, I wanna see all of ya.”

You lick your lips and nod, slowly removing your shirt and making a show of it. You don’t miss the way he bites his lip and whispers out a low “fuck” as you undress. You leave your bra on knowing that’s one of Atsumu’s favorite things to take off of you. You place your hands on the hem of your leggings and look to him, as if to ask him if it’s okay. He nods and you slowly remove them from your body, leaving you in your bra and thong ready for him on the bed.

The tall blond stalks toward the bed and situates himself in-between your legs. He brings his lips to your inner thigh, his brown eyes on you to watch for your reactions. His lips trail up the sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he gets closer to your awaiting heat. But he doesn’t give you what you want, not yet. He hears you whine as he moves to your other thigh and repeats the same actions. He can feel the heat your pussy is emanating, already seeing your juices leak out.

You whimper out, “fuck, please just do it!”

He sniffs, enjoying your smell as he slowly pushes your thong to the side. “Please what baby? Ya gotta use yer words.”

You hips roll as his fingertips graze over where you want him the most. You hate his teasing nature, but you love the reward you get after. “P-please just put your tongue in me!”

Atsumu snickers before enticingly putting his tongue into your slit, making you gasp out and grab at his hair. He hums happily as he laps at you greedily. His tongue swirls inside of you in the best way. Your hips move off the mattress as your voice lets curses and whines escape.

“Nuh uh baby girl. Ya gotta stay still fer daddy.” At that you feel a weight on your pelvis, realizing its his arm to hold you steady. With you unable to move, the need for release bubbles faster. Your breathing gets deeper and your voice rises an octave. Atsumu was always a king with his tongue, and for some reason tonight he was pulling out all the stops. Once you think you can catch your breath, he sucks hard on your clit and inserts a finger into you.

“Haah, fuck daddy!”

He laughs into your cunt and you moan at the vibrations. His tongue directly on your clit is making you see stars. He slyly inserts a second finger, already feeling you clench and tighten around him. That won’t do. He can’t have you cumming on just his fingers, but he does need to prep you. Before putting a third finger in, he sucks on your swollen nub to have you screaming in pleasure. His fingers scissor and stretch you out and it takes everything in him to not add a fourth. He knows you two haven’t discussed it so he knew to table it for another time.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy can I cum?”

That makes him take his eyes off his fingers and to look at you directly and ceases his actions. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and crawls on top of you. “Suck,” he commands and you do as you’re told. You’re a little miffed at not being able to cum as your pussy clenches at nothing while you suck his fingers. You know you’re doing a good job when you hear him groan and lose eye contact with you. You get into the valleys of his fingers and he moans, “yeah ya like daddy’s fingers? I know ya do. Now kiss me.”

He tilts your head up and you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself again but on his lips. You feel him align his warm dick with your slick entrance and whine into the kiss. You break away from the kiss to tap his shoulder.

“Wait ‘Tsumu,” you pant, “condom?”

He stops everything before frantically reaching for the nightstand. Atsumu knows he can get carried away when he’s in the moment, so he knows that when he gets tapped on the shoulder he’s forgotten something or needs to slow down.

“Ah sorry, baby.” His voice sinks as he sucks his teeth feeling the rubber cover his dick. “Are we okay ta keep goin’?”

You smile and nod at him, placing your hands on his chest in reassurance. He meets your smile and kisses your lips softly. “You ready ta take daddy’s hard cock?”

“Fuck,” you moan, “just fuck me already-Ah!”

He didn’t need anymore goading as he slides himself inside you. Your walls tighten around him and he has to control himself from wanting to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to him before he pulls out almost all the way before your hips meet again.

“Ya feel so good, princess. Ya like the way daddy fucks ya?”

You nod aimlessly. “Yes! Please, I want more!”

His smile is evil as he grabs one of your legs and hoists it on his shoulder. “Be careful what ya wish fer,” he growls before snapping his hips forward. The two of you whine and moan together, unable to hear the sound of your juices and his hips squelching. “Aw fuck, baby ya feel too good.” He’s got one hand on your leg to hold it against his chest and the other rests lazily on your hip. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, your hands holding onto the head board behind you. Atsumu catches this and is displeased. He abruptly stops and places your leg down and around his waist, doing the same to your other leg, You look at him confused, “why, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t like the way you were grabbin’ the headboard, so you’re gonna grab onta me.”

With that he keeps pounding into you, now with your arms around his back. He’s never admitted it, but he loves the way you scratch and grip at his back when you two have sex. It drives him wild. “That’s it, baby. Hold on ta daddy as he fucks ya.”

Your garble out something as you hold him harder, realizing a free hand had escaped your upper body and has snaked its way to your clit. He begins to rub small and fast circles on the swollen nub, grinning at your reactions. He’s never sure which part he loves best: the way your voice gets incredibly lewd or how tight you get around him. This time he thinks it’s both. He continues to rub at your clit vigorously while pounding you all the same.

Sweat clings to each of your bodies as the rush of release is evident. Your eyebrows are scrunched tightly as you feel your orgasm coming. With a shaky breath you whimper, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please lemme cum daddy. I’ve been so good!”

His hips rut into you as he chases his own release. “Yeah ya have. Been such a good girl fer me. Fuck baby ya feel amazin’! I’m gonna cum so hard. Cum with me baby girl.” His body moves faster the closer he gets to climax. Your legs are shaking and your toes curled as you feel the coil within you come undone.

You scream out, “I’m cumming baby, I’m cum-ah fuck!”

You tighten around him, causing him to curse and whine as he loses his rhythm. “Shit baby girl, I hnng,” he feels the condom fill with his seed as he humps the both of you through your orgasms. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, rubbing them with comfort. He stays on top of you but not pressing down into you. The afterglow the two of you bask in is always something he looks forward to. His breathing returns to normal after a couple minutes of the two of you just laying with each other.

“Fuck ‘Tsumu,” you croak out, “that was s-so good. Could you pull out?”

Atsumu lazily nods and slowly pulls out of you, not wanting to cause you any pain. Once he’s out, he gets off the bed and takes off the condom, tying it up and placing it in the trash can. He returns to the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “You were so good ta me. Lemme grab us some water and towels, yeah? Do ya want a shower or a bath?”

You groan and roll to your side. “Some water.”

“Baby, I know, but a bath or shower?”

“I can barely move, Atsumu, what do you think?”

He chuckles before leaving the room and announcing, “I’ll get tha bath started.” He’s gone for a few minutes, but returns with two water bottles and a towel as you hear the bathtub being filled with water. He sits down next to you and places the bottles down. He opens one and hands it to you. You thank him and drink down about half of the bottle. He drinks from his own and uses his empty hand to trace the curve of your face.

“Hey (Y/n)”

You lift your eyebrow at him, giving him your attention.

“Ya know I love ya, right?”

You hum and nod, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and give his cheek a kiss. “I love you so much, Atsumu. No one is gonna break our bond okay? We’re soulmates.”

He takes one of your hands into his gently, leaning into your touch. “I know I’m not here a lot cause of volleyball. But I do love ya. Yer my baby girl.”

You chuckle lightly and kiss his cheek again. “Sap.”

“Ya know ya love it. Now let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~

The diner is closed

#the diner #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #msby x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x black reader #atsumu x female reader #my writing #i did the thing

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perksofbeingatallpotato · 4 years

Text

Gray Suit

Harry Hart x Reader Warnings: Death Word Count: 1,355 A/N: I think it is fitting to wrap this month full of new Colin Firth content with a fic. Thanks to my over-caffeinated brain which came up with the idea for this at 1am and finished the whole fic in a few hours. The wonders of a brain overloaded with coffee. The proofreading took a while, and I also made a gif for this fic. You guys might’ve hated me if I ended this at that part, so I added a few more lines. Let me know what you think! Oh, and Happy Halloween if you celebrate! Stay safe!

You hit a wall.

The books and folders you were carrying slipped from your hands. Well, it was a wall made of flesh and beauty.

Then the most handsome man you've seen on campus was apologizing to you. He crouched down to pick-up your things from the floor, and you tried to help him. Your hand accidentally brushed against his over the last book on the floor.

You quickly retracted your hand and mumbled a sorry.

He stood up, as did you. He's tall, taller than you by a few good inches. He's wearing a double-breasted gray suit, a pair of glasses, and his hair was perfectly combed in place. It looks like he came straight out of a suit catalogue.

He apologized once again, yet it was probably your fault that you bumped into him. You were occupied thinking about the things you need to do, their deadlines, and who would cover your shifts at work, but now he's all you could think of.

"It's okay. I guess it was also kind of my fault. I'm sorry." You looked down, smiled, and you tucked your hair behind your ear. You looked back up at him and he flashed you a smile before he excused himself. He really seemed like he was in a rush.

With the way he walked and that tailored suit, there was no doubt that he’s a model from a magazine or a catalogue. You turned to watch him walk away, and you saw him enter the lecture hall beside the one you were just in.

Your eyes widened.

And you mentally facepalmed yourself.

'Of course, he's a professor! Who walks around the campus in a suit like that? Duh!' You were slightly horrified that you almost tried to flirt with a professor.

At the very least, he's not your professor. You got excited by the idea that you’re going to see him every day. It's just a harmless little crush, you said to yourself.

And you left the campus smiling.

While waiting for Professor Arnold, Harry was thinking about that girl he bumped into.

He didn't know how to tell you it was really his fault. He already saw you from afar. A face of an angel, lost deep in her thoughts, walking straight ahead.

It might be an exaggeration, but to him you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He could've dodged you, stepped aside, and let you pass by. But as you were lost inside your mind, he felt like an arrow went straight through his heart.

He was never one for clichés, but suddenly he didn't know how to introduce himself. His years of training seemingly went out the window. And he doesn't want to simply let you pass by without knowing your name or seeing your smile. So, he did the ungentlemanly thing and let himself collide against you and pretend like it was an accident. Yet he still failed to introduce himself, or ask for your name.

Harry heard the door open and it snapped him out of his thoughts.

The next day, Harry was outside waiting for you.

"Hello." You heard a familiar voice. You turned to your right and there he was, the professor from yesterday, leaning against the wall.

"I forgot to introduce myself and ask for your name.” Harry stood straight and walked towards you. “Do you mind?" and he extended his hand. "Harry Hart." "(Y/FN) (Y/LN)." And you shook it.

"Can I walk with you?" Harry asked. You wanted to say yes, but... “Can you? I mean, isn't that, you know, against the rules?"

"Sorry, rules of what?” Harry paused. “Ah."

He chuckled. "Sorry to give you the wrong impression, but I don't teach here. Well, I am not a professor here or anywhere else for that matter."

"That's a relief." And then it was your turn to chuckle.

You and Harry continued the conversation as you left the campus. It was when the dusk started to settle that you realized you two were walking around aimlessly.

"So, you live around here?" Harry probably had that realization too. "Uh, no. Do you?" "No, I do not. And here I thought I was walking you home like a proper gentleman." And as fate would have it, the two of you happened to stop in front of a quaint café.

"Since we're here, how about we grab something to eat?" Harry asked you.

It was a casual dinner; the conversations came naturally. You could talk to him for days and it would be impossible to run out of things to talk about. You’ve only just known him for a few hours but it feels like you’ve already known him for years.

When it was starting to get late, you knew you needed to head home even though you didn’t want to part with him just yet.

Over the next few days, Harry was always outside the campus waiting. Although he never revealed anything about his actual job, he would tell you when he's going to be busy with his work as a tailor and wouldn't be able to see you.

Harry knows how to respect your time and your space. Even if you're busy, he'd still wait for you outside your college or your work, sometimes with a single rose or a bouquet of flowers just to say hi, and then get you a cab. And whenever you need him, he is almost always there for you.

This continued on for weeks. The dates, the flowers, him waiting for you, until the waving good-bye when parting turned into hugs.

He just seems too perfect to be real, but the smell of his perfume, his after shave, and his warm hugs are proof that he is as real as he could be.

It’s been months and your friends were bugging you to spill the details about your boyfriend, but he wasn't your boyfriend, not yet anyway.

You said to yourself that if he's not going to make the first move, then it's up to you. You invited him over at your place. You told him you have something important to finish and just really wanted to see him. But you were actually planning to cook for him and maybe take the relationship to the next level.

Harry arrived in his navy-blue pinstriped suit, still looking perfect after a day's work. He was surprised. "Well, you weren't lying, you really had something important to do." He smiled and gave you a hug and a kiss on your forehead.

After dinner, he helped you clean up and volunteered to wash the dishes. He took off his suit jacket and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt.

Harry Hart’s sexiness just went up a different level, and you thought he has already maxed that.

He looks so adorable while doing the dishes, that you couldn’t wait any longer. Once you placed the last plate you dried on the rack, you took the glass he was holding and placed it back on the sink.

He looked at you slightly confused.

You stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He leaned into you slowly.

You closed your eyes and anticipated his lips.

But Harry opened his eyes.

He looked around; a number of medical equipment was attached to him. A buzzer was placed near his hand, which he pressed once the reality set in.

You’ve heard about the explosion at the campus over social media when you arrived home that day. You asked your friends about it and about that professor you bumped into. Apparently, there was only one casualty, it was Professor Arnold. Poor guy, he seemed like a really smart and somewhat cool professor.

Yet no one seemed to know who the man in the gray suit was.

Months later, on your last day for the semester. Your heart skipped a beat. You saw a familiar figure in a gray suit standing at the end of the hallway. Once you reached the end, there he was, waiting.

“Hello.” He was not a ghost or a figment of your imagination.

#Harry Hart x Reader #kingsman imagine #Kingsman Fan Fics #Harry Hart Imagines #Harry Hart #Colin Firth #Kingsman

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Still, I Rise

Summary: Damn teenagers and their angst.

Author's Note: Back with another chapter, if you didn’t already know it I will be revealing our mystery character from the last chapter LOL please put down the bats and weapons (jk take them out it’s hilarious!) With this chapter we are getting closer to the “climax” and I am so excited to write the fun chapters I have planned ahead, one scene that I am really looking forward to writing is the camping trip, I had so much plans and events that I wanted to see that didn’t because TVN woke up and chose basic, we hate to see it. I can’t wait to rewrite history honestly also can’t wait to just move to onto regular schmegular teen problems, I swearrrrrrr.

"Don't you dare embarrass me this time. You aren't ugly why can't you get these damn little rich brats to like you? Are you truly this useless? Don't come home if you can't make this one fall for you!"

Those had been his father's final words right before his hand split his lower lip open with a razor sharp blow that made his head whip in recoil. His father's footsteps faded as he walked away leaving him crumpled on the ground, anger and embarrassment raging in his blood. He hadn't chosen this life at all, never wanted to be a bargaining chip for that despicable man. First with Eun Dan Oh and now this new girl, Kang Sujin.

She'd initially stood him up and he had felt foolish sitting in the lavish restaurant by himself, checking his phone but no calls or messages arrived.

His father had been livid that night, more vicious than usual his stepmother's weak screams served as the soundtrack for his brutal beating. Why couldn’t she just be quiet? Did it make her feel better when she acted as if she actually gave a shit about him? His brother coming into his room after with those pathetic weeping eyes and a bandage had only made him angrier, he shoved him away slamming the door in his face, refusing his help. He didn't need anyone, nobody could save him from his horrible fate.

It hadn't taken much research to find out her school and on impulse he'd gone there without her knowledge, watching from afar at first. A tiny girl with short hair framing her face had ran giggling into a taller girl with long dark hair and a classically beautiful face, they walked side by side smiling and laughing and that's when he'd heard her call out , "Sujin we should get something to eat!"

It wasn't love at first sight or anything ridiculous and disgustingly romantic like that, but he felt a connection to the girl for some inconceivable reason as if they were kindred spirits or something, maybe it was the remnant of a bruise he saw on her wrist hidden beneath her sweater.

It seemed they had more in common then he had initially believed, it was a grim similarity.

He'd gone home feeling less burdened than before, and his father's smile had been terrifying when he'd told him that he would work hard to win the girl over, only because he knew how quickly that smile could evaporate and his father could become the monster he was accustomed to. He tried not to flinch as the older man clapped him on the shoulder, his body already in fight or flight mode.

His father had merely smirked at his apparent fear.

Bastard.

So he'd taken to following the other girl around, she was going to be his fiancé anyway so he saw nothing wrong with it. And that was how he learned about the other boy, a tall slender boy who looked like someone that would grace an idol magazine cover. They were together more often than he liked, and it seemed more than platonic if the glances and subtle touches were a sign.

He wasn't jealous per se, but this would be a roadblock in his plan that he couldn't afford. He was getting used to not being beaten.

The day he'd followed them to the hospital presented another challenge for him, he hated hospitals and what they represented with every fiber of his being. He'd spent too much time in them growing up and then again for a girl who couldn't care less about him, she was another reminder that he wasn't worthy of love. He had thought he loved her but still hurt her whenever she disobeyed him, he knew he was no better than his father.

Unexpectedly Sujin had burst through the hospital doors, surprising him and forcing him to hide lest she spot him, peeking out from his hiding place behind a tree he saw her distraught and near tears running the opposite direction. He stood in shock merely watching and waiting to see if the unknown boy would follow her, but thankfully he never came.

Pushing down his own wariness and discomfort he walked into the hospital immediately feeling a cold chill on his skin, he refused to call it trauma that made it sound like something was wrong with him. He was fine and he could do this.

Thankfully the nurses were too busy and nobody noticed him walking by and he froze when he spotted another man who was capable of making him flinch. Doctor Kang, he looked anything but approachable in his gleaming white lab coat and he remembered watching the man laugh with his father as they both sold their children without remorse. Instinctively he hid watching the man glare into a hospital room, he almost feared for whomever was the recipient of the ice cold gaze.

Minutes melted by before the doctor finally walked away, his steps clipped and echoing on the linoleum floors and he finally let out a sigh of relief when the other man disappeared around the corner.

Stealthily he rounded the corner and took the doctor's abandoned spot, peeking into the room through the small window in the door. It was that boy again, the idol wannabe but this time he wasn't alone there was a young girl with a bouquet in her arms and a older woman lovingly patting him on his cheeks.

His mother.

A loving one, at that.

His blood seared watching the domestic scene, jealousy ripping through him like a tornado. There was no way he was letting this asshole have Sujin too, he already had too much. More than he, Baekyung would ever have.

The motorcycle roars under her thighs as they whip down the road. It only serves to remind her of the first time she was on a bike with another boy, his cologne and the scent of leather infiltrating her senses and making her heart jump through hoops. This time she feels nothing but annoyance and extreme frustration, barely holding onto the stranger in front of her as she leans forward to yell above the engine, "Pullover!"

She knows he heard her based on the immediate tension in his body but he continues to ride ignoring her request demand. With a grunt she grabs onto his waist only to bodily drag them to the side not caring if they both crash at this point she cannot stand another second on this bike with him, instantly he straightens them before skidding to the side and finally pulling the brakes bringing the motorcycle to a halt, the moment the bike stops she hops off in a frenzy.

Thrusting the bottom piece of his helmet up he screams at her, "Are you insane? You could have hurt us!"

She bares her teeth at him, ready to unleash her full anger on him now without an audience.

"Who the fuck are you? And why did you come to my school?" She bellows glaring poisonously at the strange idiot who had single handedly upended her day.

Moving calmer than she's feeling, he dismounts finally pulling his helmet off and then squeezing it under his arm looking down at her.

With a condescending look he stares at her, "You know exactly who I am, don't play dumb it's beneath you."

He's right. She does know who he is although she had never seen him or known his name, she had truly thought she could ignore him and he would disappear. Just like with her father that was proving to be an erroneous dream that would never come true.

"But I'll formally introduce myself since we are going to be engaged soon after all, Baekyung. You can call me oppa though."

Engaged soon.

Her head spins from his words, she feels terror shift over her like a thick suffocating blanket.

"You don't even know me. Why would you even agree to this?" She stares at him in disbelief, at a loss to his acquiesce to their tragic fate.

The look in his eyes haunt her, it's like staring in a mirror and gazing back at the person she was months ago. Somehow without her knowledge or consent she'd changed, grown even and therefore started believing that her life was just that, hers.

"You act like we have a choice. Don't be stupid, we have to just do as we're told. It's easier this way for everyone." He repeats those words that she herself had uttered to Seojun not so long ago, a sense of deja vu washes over her.

"How is letting ourselves be used easier? Don't you have your own dreams or aspirations? Isn't there someone you actually like?" She knows the error of her argument immediately as she says it, his eyes narrow into thin enraged slits and she can practically feel the anger vibrating off him.

"Don't pretend to care about me. This is about you and your little boyfriend," he spits the word like acid and immediately she remembers those chilling words he had whispered in her eyes earlier, "Do you think he'll be safe?" That was all it had taken for her to go with him, he couldn't get hurt she wouldn't allow that to happen ever. She had no idea what those ominous words meant and how this boy could pose a threat to Seojun but she knew she had to hear him out and protect Seojun anyway she possibly could.

"He's not the only one you should be worried about." The smug bastard continues with a humorless grin on his face and suddenly the dots connect, her father outside of Ms. Han's hospital room and that calculating look on his face. Her stomach drops.

"Leave them out of it!" She screams embarrassed at the urgent plea in her voice but she can't help it, she's so scared more than she's ever been for herself.

"Well that all depends on you doesn't it? Your dear father will have no reason to do anything to them if you listen like a good daughter and date me as expected."

She stands frozen once again feeling helpless, it kills her inside all her growth slipping down the drain in a matter of seconds.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stills at her question, his cold mask dropping and leaving something numb and unreadable in its place. It feels familiar to her, she awaits his answer with bated breath.

"I want to live, even if I have no control over it. I'd rather be alive."

Thunder clashes above them, the previously sunny day shifting into a gray dark distortion, heavy storm clouds ominously loom above them and the first raindrops land perfectly on her cheeks, crying the tears that she refuses to let fall. She has no more left to cry.

Confusion is an understatement to express Su-ah's true feelings following the mysterious boy on the motorcycle, when she finally gets Sujin on the phone the other girl is quiet and mumbling, evading all her questions and as soon as she mentions Seojun, Sujin shuts down hastily ending their conversation with some nonsensical excuse.

That was not going to be the end, Sujin might want to play dumb about the true nature of their relationship but she wasn't part of the circus. She was no clown, she had eyes and it was clear that they liked each other and it was only growing the more time they spent together. She wouldn't let her best friend sabotage something that could be great for her, she deserved happiness and Seojun made her happy. So it was truly that simple.

Stomping up the slight incline to school, she huffs and puffs determined. She was going to talk some sense into the other girl.

Those thoughts come crashing all around her when she sees Sujin coming out of a car, a car that she has never seen before and her questions are answered when the boy from yesterday steps out after her. Every eye in a ten mile radius is watching them, captivated by this new school scandal. Girls already squealing and giggling, envious of Sujin and doing very little to hide their true feelings.

“Why is he with her? She isn’t even that pretty. He should be with me.”

The lies people told themselves to sleep at nights, sad.

Accidentally knocking the gossiping girl to the side with a rough shoulder check, ignoring her dramatic cry she sprints the rest of the way, once again pushing through the crowd to get to Sujin.

Immediately their eyes lock and she begs Sujin for a answers, What happened? Why are you doing this? What’s going?, she flinches at the cold emotionless stare she gets in response. She watches in dismay as the tall boy bends down as if to hug Sujin and that's when a loud grumble fills the air, she turns around to the all too familiar sight of Seojun on his motorcycle. He revs the handle bar causing the crowd to part like the Red Sea, then he rides slowly until he's right next to Sujin bike inches away from touching her.

With a practiced motion he tugs off his helmet, those sloping feline eyes already on Sujin in a hard stare.

The tension is insurmountable and cloying and Su-ah watches transfixed before Sujin breaks the impasse, tugging her bookbag over her shoulder she stomps into the school without a word to either boys. But then the interloping boy calls out, “Have a good day. Princess,” and Sujin stops immediately at the word, turning around with a ferocious look in her eyes, “Don’t call me that. My name is Kang Sujin to you. That’s all.” Su-ah sees the way that Sujin’s eyes almost subconsciously seek out a certain cat eyed boy and feels like she misses an entire conversation between the two before Sujin finally walks away.

The mysterious boy glares at her retreating back before shooting a cold glare at Seojun and then promptly hopping back into his car, the backseat as he's chauffeured away.

"Oh my god! That was so hot! Princess?”

"Who is that? Does Kang Sujin have a boyfriend? Wow, she’s mean to her boyfriend too. What a bitch.”

Why do you think Seojun looked so angry?"

"Maybe he's worried about losing his bad boy title!"

The crowd erupts around them in loud voices, all curious about what they've witnessed and already creating rumors to appease their curiosity. Suddenly a loud motorcycle screech causes them all to jump silence falling over the crowd before Seojun rides away, the tight clench in his jaw visible even from her distance.

Lunch is a step above awkward, bordering into painful. The easy conversation that used to be a staple of the table is all but decimated, instead everyone eats quietly chilled by the cold air permeating from both Seojun and Sujin. They only speak when spoken to and avoid all eye contact, especially each others. It's painful to be a witness to and she notes regretfully that neither are eating home made lunch today, opting for the school lunch instead.

Sujin had never officially told her but she knew that they were making food for each other, their smiles watching the other eat made it too obvious.

This was serious. Looking at them now they looked like complete strangers, everyone was too nervous to question the elephant in the room. Everyone except poor Chorong.

"Why is everyone was so awkward today? What did you two fight or something? Why do we all have to suffer because of your lover's quarrel? Just kiss and make up already."

The table all looked on with opened mouths except Suho and herself who both looked worried instead.

And people thought she was slow, how had they all not realized what was happening? It was clear as day.

She flinches at his well-meaning words that are evidently not well received by either teen, watching them both glare at the table unmoving and the silence drags out painfully before Seojun breaks the stalemate. Standing without preamble he glares at Chorong before placing the stare on Sujin, it does nothing to change her unaffected stare. With a loud sigh he stomps away, despite his friends dismayed shouts of his name.

She continues to eat her lunch, watching Sujin in her peripheral.

She looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulder and Su-ah for the first time in their friendship has no idea what to do.

But when they all start to funnel out of the cafeteria she follows the other girl anyway, tugging her into an enclave where they are hidden from the rest of their classmates Sujin cries out at the sudden jerk but loses her defensive stance when she realizes it’s just her.

“What?”

“What’s going on? Why are you letting that punk bring you to school and why are you and Han Seojun acting like you broke up before you even started officially dating? Sujin-ah, please tell me what’s going on.” She pleads latching onto the other girl’s arm peering up at her with puppy dog eyes, they have never failed her before.

“I can’t tell you yet, I’m sorry.”

There’s a first time for everything and she frowns at Sujin feeling like there is a mountain between them. She can’t help the hurt that she feels knowing the other girl doesn’t trust her enough to tell her what’s going on. She thought they had moved past all the secrets and hiding but obviously she was wrong.

“I really am sorry. But I will tell you everything soon enough.”

She releases Sujin’s arm, ready to walk away. She hates being in the dark. But before she can walk away, she feels Sujin hand on the bottom of her sweater tugging her backwards, she looks back with a perplexed glare.

“Do you trust me?”

She stares at Sujin and the soft tilt of her head as she asks the question, and her answer is easy, although she has no idea what’s going on and none of this makes any sense to her she doesn’t have to think about that answer.

"You shouldn't do this to him. It's too cruel." Suho expects a biting retort or even a call for him to mind this damn business, so he's shocked breathless when instead the other girl smiles at him, a tiny almost indecipherable thing that makes her lips thinner.

"You two have come a long way." Sujin responds unexpectedly shaking her head and walking over to the couch, before beckoning him over too.

He stares feeling suspicious but ultimately he follows, curiosity winning.

"I think I'm ready." Sujin expels a deep breath, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Before he can ask her what exactly she's ready for she continues, "I want to tell your father what happened if you really think he'll help me."

He's too late to swallow the strangled gasp that escapes from his lungs and he leans back in surprise. He wants to continue his conversation about Seojun but he’s scared to do anything to make the other girl retreat or change her mind now. That conversation will have to wait for another day.

Sorry Seojun.

"Are you sure? You're really ready to do this?"

There's a long pause and he watches a myriad of emotions run across Sujin's usually expressionless face until something that looks suspiciously like hope blossoms making her glow brighter than the sun.

"Yes. I want to try living just for me."

Blinking away the moisture in his eyes, he pulls out his cellphone sending his father a message.

Please come over.

It only takes seconds but it feels like an eternity before his father replies, he smiles at the message.

On my way.

He stands up to put the kettle on the fire, he knows that tonight will be a long night and he needs something to keep his hands occupied.

When his doorbell rings he's shocked when Sujin stands up looking at him with a serene gaze, "I'll get it." He only nods at her in reply, watching as she greets his father and man recovers quickly at the unexpected visitor, smiling warmly at Sujin before pulling her into a warm embrace.

Even more surprisingly Sujin doesn't flinch, allowing herself to be wrapped up.

His father embraces him as well, patting him on the back and again on the head when they break apart. He can feel Sujin's eyes on them and he moves away guiltily. Now isn’t the time to rub his burgeoning relationship with his father in her face.

"Have a seat Dad, thank you for coming so quickly."

His father lifts an eyebrow at the sudden serious tone of his voice but he follows his directions nonetheless folding his hands on his lap and looking inquisitively between the two teenagers.

"Is there something you both want to tell me? Perhaps you two are....." His father motions vaguely between them and he stares back not comprehending until his father smiles slyly and Sujin beats him to it, protesting ardently.

"No! No, it's nothing like that. There's someone else...I mean no. That's what what we wanted to talk about."

He raises an eyebrow at Sujin's slip and his father chuckles at her stuttering and the red blaze across her cheeks.

His father waves his arms in appeal, apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry I didn't mean to embarrass you both. I just always hoped you two might one day. A father can dream."

He scoffs at his father, "Give up on that dream she's like family to me. We would never see each other that day."

Sujin nods passionately in agreement and his father shrugs easily, now looking even more curious than before.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

Sujin stills on her spot on the couch, the determination in her bones seeming to melt away with every passing minute. He fears this won't go as planned and he has no idea how to motivate her.

Then a loud vibration rumbles from the couch and it takes Sujin a moment to realize it's her phone, he watches curiously as she looks at the message and then a single tear runs down her round cheek. The determination curls back around her like armor, he watches in amazement as she sits taller turning to look at his father with newfound courage or maybe it wasn’t newfound but suddenly uncovered by whatever she had seen on her phone.

“Suho asked you for help for me. I’m really the one who needs your help.” He can hear the slight quiver and hitches in her words but she gets them all out and instantly she has his father’s undivided attention, he even turns his body to fully face the girl. Pride swells in his chest at the sight, he was worried his father would only be adamant about helping him directly as a way to get closer to him but now he can see that he was wrong about the other man. Genuine concern fills every line and wrinkle of time on his face.

“What is wrong? What do you need help with and why can’t you tell your parents?” It’s a innocent question, and logical too but he fears Sujin’s reaction, when she feels like she is backed into a corner in the past that has led to her lashing out with dagger sharp remarks, he watches with his heart lodged in his throat.

“Because they are the ones hurting me.”

His lungs deflate releasing all the air that was trapped in the sacs, she said the truth without hesitation and he turns to glance at his father watching him process the bomb that she has just dropped on him. His father opens and closes his mouth several times, before finding his voice it is but a whisper when he responds to Sujin.

“That time you needed a doctor.” The statement is directed to Suho and with a sober nod he confirms what his father already knows, with a loud sigh his father sinks into the couch quiet rage on his face. “I should have known, you always seemed so scared of him but I thought it was just his parenting style I never thought...never expected that he would....I should have done something!”

Sujin laughs, it is pained and small but he hears it and immediately turns to look at her, “He sounds just like you like father like son I guess,” Sujin directs that at him and he blushes in memory, he can’t deny the claims. Then she turns back to his father with surprisingly soft eyes, “Don’t blame yourself, just help me now if you can.”

“I will use all of my resources to make sure he spends his life in jail.”

Suho jumps in his seat looking over at Sujin, that is way more than they had ever discussed that was what he truly wanted for the monstrous man but it always seemed like too much to ask for but here was his father saying it as if it was completely plausible.

“Jail? Do you really think he can go to jail? It would be his word against mine, I never took any pictures. I was stupid.” Sujin berates herself, and before he can dismiss the self inflicted insult his father is already moving closer and putting a large hand on her trembling shoulder, only then does he realize how the girl is shaking like a new leaf.

“No, it will be my word against his. I will also get that report from Doctor Kim, that could be used as evidence. You’re just a kid and a victim, I’ll handle this you don’t need to do anything else. You’ve handled enough on your own, we got you now.” His father looks over at him as if waiting for his approval and he moves onto the couch with them both, after a moment’s pause putting his hand on Sujin’s other shoulder.

“We got you.”

Jukyeong glances over nervously at Seojun the aroma of coffee thick in the air as she sweeps up the beans she had clumsily spilled on the ground, she waited for Seojun to playfully scold her as he often did when she messed up at work but the reprimand never came and when she glanced over at him he had been staring longing at his cellphone.

Su-ah had been the first to notice how weird him and Sujin acted around each other and despite not having a lot of experience with relationships, especially those of the romantic kind she could see that they didn’t hate each other as much as Sujin tried to drive the deceptive point home. They were always teasing each other and Seojun found any excuse to be near Sujin and soon he wasn’t the only one, they just seemed to naturally gravitate to each other at times bickering so much it was like they were the only two people in the room.

But all that had come to an abrupt end with the sudden appearance of the boy on the motorcycle, the entire school was in a uproar over him, Baek Kyung, she had heard the other girls whispering his name. On paper he seemed very similar to Han Seojun, same bad boy persona and affinity for motorcycles and glares. But the biggest difference she noticed was Sujin's reaction to them both, she had heard from some gossiping girls how vehemently Sujin had declared that Baek Kyung not call her “princess”, a moniker she had commonly heard Seojun use to refer to the girl. Sujin never stopped him these days, instead rolling her eyes and speeding up to escape from him, he would chase after all calling her the sweet nickname all the way.

When Seojun would use it to refer to her in passing such as, “Are you gonna eat that princess?” Those were times that Sujin didn’t react at all, simply handing him whatever food in her container had caught his eye that she had ignored.

They were casually domestic in a way that they never seemed to realize and she couldn’t help but categorize. Seojun liked Sujin that was becoming clearer and it seemed like the feeling was mutual, even if the girl wasn’t yet ready to admit it.

Which was why this new development came as a complete shock to her, why was Sujin suddenly giving her attention to someone else?

“Did you guys have a fight? Just tell her you’re sorry.” She offers out of the blue, and Seojun turns to her with a puzzled look drying a mug with a cloth, “What are you talking about now clumsy?”

Thankfully the shop is empty, she quirks at eyebrow at him folding her arm when he continues to play dumb.

“Sujin. You guys clearly had a fight, you’re both so hot tempered. Her temper is probably worst than yours though so just apologize okay? It’s better than fighting.”

He stares at her with a blank face before turning away, rubbing firmer at the mug in his hands and she worries for its safety.

“Why should I apologize when she’s the one who’s with another guy? Don’t worry about me, I will be fine. Clearly this was one-sided. She doesn’t like me.”

She openly laughs at him now, looking at him like he has two heads. “What are you talking about? If she didn’t like you then why did she follow you to your mom’s hospital? She tried to be all sneaky but Chorong told us everything. Plus she always gets jealous when other girls give you food at school and don’t think we don’t all know that you guys make food for each other!”

He whips around looking at her with huge eyes, “Wait you all knew? So when I said that someone special made it for me? You knew?”

She smiles brightly, “Yep. It wasn’t subtle at all.”

He sighs in annoyance, turning away to hide the pink on his face.

“I’m not apologizing. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She sighs at the boy’s words, knowing that this fight might go on longer than it needs to and she wishes she could just shake some sense into both of them, why were they choosing to suffer like this?

Damn teenagers and their angst.

Grumbling she goes to take a customer’s order, glancing over at Seojun with a final sad smile.

Hopefully they can figure this out without falling apart.

Time seems to move slower than usual today and he almost pumps a fist in triumph when he sees that it’s finally eight and they are free to leave.

“Do you want to me to walk you to the bus stop?” He offers Jukyeong out of politeness but she shakes her head no, telling him that she is going to meet with her older sister for dinner running out before him and hailing a cab, he smiles at the sight that’s one girl who loves to eat.

Turning off the lights in the shop, he turns over the “open” sign and locks the door behind him. The cool spring night air brushes against his cheeks and he makes his way to his motorcycle, mounting in one motion and sighing as it purrs to life before he speeds off his destination already in mind. He bobs and weaves through traffic, smirking at idiot drivers who blare their horns at him when he inches too close to their precious car but even they are not enough to rain on his parade.

When he finally arrives, he bounces off the bike throwing the helmet onto the handlebar carelessly before bounding over to the figure he sees waiting.

He can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips, ultimately setting it free as the figure turns around at the sound of his boot stomping on the ground.

“Did you wait long?” He asks moving closer until he can feel the heat wafting off the body in front of him.

“No, I only just got here too. Why are you smiling like that? You look deranged.”

He smiles wider, feeling mischievous after what a certain klutz had revealed to him with a smirk he leans closer to her, grinning harder when she leans back looking at him with a confused glare.

“I heard from a certain birdie that you followed me to the hospital and that you get jealous when other girls give me food. Is that true princess?”

Sujin growls at him, shoving his shoulder hard before stomping away to the park bench. He eagerly follows after her, throwing his arm over her shoulder smiling at her wearing yet another one of his sweaters, this time a black one that reaches the bottom of her knees and completely hides whatever she is wearing underneath. She looks equally sexy as adorable and it makes his blood boil in a way he has been trying harder and harder to suppress around her.

“I knew you would try to milk the situation. This isn’t why I told you everything.”

He smiles recalling what Sujin is referring to.

Just a day go.....

He stares angrily at his phone in utter disbelief that she would have the gall to call him after what had just happened. She had left on another boy’s motorcycle even though he had asked her not to, he didn’t know what was going on but seeing her leave like that, he wished he knew how to turn off all his feelings for her. No other human should have this kind of power or control over him but here he was ready to burst because she had picked someone else over him.

“What do you want?” He barks out answering the call with a hard press of his finger and immediately he starts to lose some of his fire when he hears her soft staggered breaths on the other line.

“Seojun, can you meet me somewhere?”

He wants to say no, to bitterly hang up on her and tell her that he has someone new too but that would be a lie and he desperately wants to see her and hold her and find out why she decided to rip his heart out and stomp on it.

Feeling pathethic he answers her with a sigh, “Where are you?”

Songnisan park. It’s not too far from their school and he hangs up without answering hopping on his bike and riding to her. Maybe it’s stupid but he can’t turn his back on her just yet, he still wants to hear her out even if she’s going to break his heart.

By the time he reaches the park it’s raining, pouring down in sheets despite the warm weather and he immediately sees Sujin sitting under the downpour while other park goers are running and using picnic blankets as makeshift umbrellas.

The scenes feels all too familiar and he wonders if this will be their end? Would life be that poetic to have them end the same way they became?

Sighing he tugs his sweater off, walking quickly to close the gap between them before sitting beside her and thrusting his sweater above both their heads, protecting them from the rain.

She turns to him with a gasp and he realizes how closely they are sitting beside each other, he can feel her breath when she exhales and it washes over in an intoxicating breeze. He has to forcibly put some distance between them before he does something that he knows he shouldn’t, especially not now.

“My father knows about us. He saw me at the hospital and I’m scared he saw your mother and sister too. I don’t think I should visit anymore.”

He pauses to process her words and he feels his chest tighten with anger at the mention of that sub-human, if he ever tried to harm a hair on his family’s head that would be the last thing he ever did. But once the rage passes by he thinks of the rest of Sujin’s sentence, my father knows about us.

They were an us.

There was an us for people to know about?

“Us?” He replies stupidly, unable to stop his heart from fluttering.

With a sound of exasperation she looks over at him, “How is that the most important thing that I said?” The pretty blush on her face does not go unnoticed but he responds to her statement staying focused, “My mom was discharged today. They said it was just a scare and nothing serious. He can’t do anything to us, if he tries I’ll kill him.”

He means it, every single word falling from his lips.

He’s not prepared for Sujin to sob and drop her head onto his shoulder, he drops their sweater umbrella at the sudden pleasant weight feeling the rain drench his hair and shirt instantly.

“I’m so happy to hear that. I was so worried about all of you.”

A bubble of happiness explodes in his chest and he’s so close to just letting go of all his anger and holding her, seeing her so worried about his family is almost enough to undo him.

But, he can’t forget the image of her riding off with someone else. His heart will never forget that ache, that indescribable pain.

“So you care about me now? Is that why you left me like that today? Because you care so much?”

He is being petty, he knows that but he can’t stop the jealousy that is fueling him right now. His green eyed monster is raring its ugly head.

“That’s the guy you told me to stand up, remember? That’s the guy my father is trying to sell me to. He’s been following us and he knew about you, he threatened you. I did what I had to, I have to do this until I speak to Suho’s father. I think.....No. I’m ready now. I’m going to tell him everything and ask for his help.”

His heart is pounding erratically in his chest, he can barely hear the rain over the loud thumping of the organ and he can’t believe he ever doubted her, feels guilt twist around him but he pushes that aside to take in everything she has confessed to him, without saying the words she has all but confirmed everything Jukyeong carelessly exposed to him in the coffee shop, she cares about him too enough to want to protect him at any cost. But most importantly she was starting to care about herself, she no longer saw her life as expendable and was willing to ask for help even at the expense of revealing her darkest secret and getting her hopes up.

Fuck she was the bravest person he knew.

Without thinking he tugs her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug before he realizes what he’s doing but by the time he starts to move back she’s already hugging him back, her arms tight around his shoulder and her head in the dip of his neck and it’s too perfect to stop now. Absently he strokes her wet silky smooth hair and when they finally draw apart, the barest amount of space between them he takes another risk, glancing at her eyes pleading and then smiling when she nods, giving him permission even without knowing what he plans to do, simply trusting him, he leans forward and plants a soft butterfly kiss on her forehead, she hisses in response but instead of moving away she latches on to him tighter.

“I’m so proud of you baby.” He kisses her again, firmer this time putting all the love and pride he feels for her in that gentle kiss to her brow.

He expects a lot of things in response to his bold move and the new nickname, a punch, a kick, her loud denial and rejection, he is emotionally prepared for any and all of those reactions, but instead she steals his breath away when she smiles up at him, looking into his eyes and he realizes that she’s looking for permission too and he nods, nervous and anxious to see what she will do.

With a moment’s hesitation she tugs him down and he goes easily, his heart in his chest and he closes his eyes as her face draws closer to him, his heart is pattering now a crazy thundering mess filled to the brim with anticipation.

He feels her plush lips against his cheek, the rain making the skin slick and he hums in encouragement as the kiss lingers before he opens his eyes and immediately they are lost in each other’s eyes and he can feel their faces moving closer as if opposite ends of a magnet and he waits for her to stop them, to push him away and run off but she is just as lost as him, moving closer too and when only centimeters separate their lips, a loud crash of thunder booms high above their heads making them jump apart, both flying to opposite ends of the bench.

“We should...um get out of this rain before we catch a cold.”

The ride home is awkward and he can barely breathe with how tightly she’s holding his waist but he smiles through the rain, taking care to move carefully on the wet streets not wanting to hurt Sujin and then they are in front of Suho’s apartment, much too fast to his disappointment.

They both sit unmoving for a few seconds before Sujin releases his waist from her death grip and gets off the bike.

“Let’s talk over there for a minute.” He states dismounting too and walking over to the scaffold so they can escape the torrential rain for a moment at least.

They stand awkwardly shivering from the cold in their wet clothes, it’s obvious that Sujin is embarrassed about what happened- their kisses-but he can barely contain his joy, if he were alone right now he would be doing backflips.

This day as made a complete 180 turn for the better.

“I have to pretend to date him. We already agreed to come to school tomorrow. He agreed to stop following me if I let him take me to school and go on dates. He has to put on a show for his father too.” She says talking so fast that the words slur together and he wonders absently if she’s nervous? And if so, why? Was she nervous about his reaction?

He nods in understanding, “Okay. I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you for telling me and not leaving me in the dark. I appreciate it.”

That’s the logical part of his response, he knows what it took for Sujin to involve him in her plan and how huge it is that she hadn’t wanted him to misunderstand her feelings and motives. But she’s still the girl that he likes and he can’t help the illogical things that flood his mind too.

“Not on his motorcycle though.”

She looks at him with a deep searching stare and he simply stares back, nonplussed. He knows what he sounds like, a bargaining jealous boyfriend. That’s exactly what he wants to be so he sees no reason to attempt to explain himself, whatever she’s thinking is true and he isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit it. At his unabashed stare she crumples looking away with a barely hidden smile, “Okay. Not on his bike. Even though I never told you that you were allowed to have conditions, this isn’t a negotiation.” She complains but the sting is gone because she has already agreed to his request, he flashes a smile at her.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. I will have to act jealous, that shouldn’t be too hard.” He winks at her and this time she does try to punch him, he barely dodges her fist.

Such a violent little thing.

“I never said you had to do anything.”

He shrugs, “It makes sense. I like you so it would only make sense that I would be jealous if I thought you were dating someone else, plus he will probably want to see that too.”

She’s as red as a strawberry as she sprints away from him without another word, waving at him over her shoulder.

He smiles all the way home, before falling into bed after a much needed warm shower, his toes and fingers were like ice chips when he finally got home.

Remembering one more thing, he grabs his phone shooting a quick text message.

Don’t let him call you nicknames. Only Sujin.

Reading it back he determines that the message is a bit too...commanding and if he wants to keep a certain boot out of his ass he better fix it so he swiftly adds:

Please.

Present time....

“I didn't do anything. She just suddenly started telling me how much you adore me and how you can’t live without me and that I should just forgive you and take you back.” He sniffles dramatically watching amused as Sujin rolls her eyes, before angrily pulling out her phone, he laughs suddenly worried for Jukyeong so he snatches the object from her hands, much to her chagrin.

“I might have exaggerated about what she said, a teeny tiny bit.” He demonstrates the small amount with his fingers and she glares at him biting out, “Liar,” before snatching back her phone and stuffing it in her pockets with a grumble.

Getting serious he turns to look at her with anticipation, “How did it go? Were you able to tell him everything?” She is staring out at the horizon, despite him boring a hole in the side of her head begging for eye contact.

“I hesitated. I lost my confidence.”

He can hear the defeat in her voice and without a pause he opens his mouth to comfort her and tell her how strong she is and explain why this is just a minor setback but next time they can go together and if she needs him to he will hold her hand the entire time and give her every last drop of his support and--

“But then I got a message and it gave me courage. So I told him everything and he agreed to help me. He wants to send my dad to jail, not just emancipate me.”

She did it.

She really did it.

He smiles at her wider than the ocean.

“You did it, Sujin.”

She stares at him in palpable shock, he immediately knows why it’s not often he uses her name and he expects her to be happy that he isn’t calling her the nickname she is always dismissing, she’s always so adamant that she is not a princess much less his princess.

“Don’t call me that.” She says finally turning to meet his eyes and he stares back confused because he had only said her name, why was that a problem? Wasn’t that what she had been trying to get him to call her since the first time he dubbed her princess?

“What do you want me to call you then?”

He is truly asking but the look she gives him makes him feel like the dunce in the corner of the room and realization unfurls in his body like a slow moving tsunami and he smiles unbridled at the epiphany.

He hasn’t wanted to get his hopes up by making assumptions about what this is but maybe it’s time that he have some confidence now, he was someone important to her. She had already proved that in so many ways these past days.

Taking her hand in his, he smiles brightly at her.

It’s the first time that he has held her hand, and he can feel the damaged skin in his own smoother hand. His heart aches for only a moment, her hands are just like her they might look bruised and pitiful at first glance but beneath the broken surface lurked unimaginable strength and power and just like the rest of her, they were imperfectly perfect. He never wanted to hold another hand, this was the only one he needed.

“Good job, you did it Princess.”

She smiles up at him, looking gorgeous-heart stoppingly so-and he can’t help the way his chest constricts as if he didn’t know it already he knows it now unequivocally .

He, Han Seojun belongs to Kang Sujin.

#true beauty #bmtl #han seojun #kang sujin #extraordinary you crossover #baekyung #lots of povs #another rollercoaster chapter #junjin #true beauty fix it #true beauty kdrama #I had mini heart attacks writing this

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

What makes you beautiful

please do not steal or repost my work. reblogs are more than welcome💕

Summary- You think Steves out of your league, he shows you he absolutely isn’t.

warnings- mentions of sex, suggestive themes, insecure reader

Masterlist

You looked at the peanut butter which was on the top shelf and huffed. Whoever made these shelves had no consideration for those vertically challenged. You tried to reach it by standing on your tippy toes but to no avail. Who needs peanut butter anyway.

Then you felt a palm on your waist and a familiar figure towering over, you reaching for the pb and grabbing it. The hand gave your waist a squeeze. "Here" He said and smiled. His blue eyes twinkling. You'd be annoyed by his smug expression if you didn't find him so cute.

"Thanks" You mumbled and started spreading the peanut butter on your bread.

"You're welcome doll" He says and kisses you behind your ear.

Being shorter than most people was already a challenge even moreso when you have to attend a fancy gala. You stared at the red silletos in front of you. It was something you bought on a whim. They had a heel of 6 inch and made you appear much taller. It also helped that they shaped your ass and calves in a way that had people turning their heads.

You sighed frustrated. It was fun to attend these parties and galas, dance with steve, eat fancy food and have fun with your friends. But then was hours of obsessing over whether you looked good enough or not worth it? Were the red sexy stilleto heels worth the back pain you'd endure?

Are you worthy of wearing something as sexy and expensive?

No, you weren't going to let those intrusive thoughts take over your mind and ruin your night.

You put on some extremely tight spanx so the dress Nat had gifted you for your birthday would actually look good on you. Then you spent over an hour doing and then redoing your makeup.

Steve's jaw almost dropped to the ground when he saw you. In your sexy tight dress and heels, you looked like a different person.

"Wow", he breathed staring at you. Maybe peeking some glances at the curve of your breasts, he was a gentleman but he wasn't perfect. "You look amazing" he finally said.

"Thank you", you smiled at him. You did feel somewhat confident but your back had already start to hurt. It was going to be a long evening.

The party was in full swing. You were chatting and catching up with Nat and Wanda. Last you saw Steve he was at the bar with Bucky. You looked around hoping to find him. You would've loved to dance with him but you were already bouncing from one foot to another.

"Hey are you okay", you looked at Wanda staring at you worried.

"Oh I'm fined. Just these shoes hurt...", you stared at the flute of champagne in your hand embarrassed.

Nat or Wanda could never relate to your struggles. They were perfect both inside and out. They didn't need hours of efforts to look good. The few scars they did have were from fights and battles. People they fought to protect this world. They were warrior queens.

You were proud of both of them. But you couldn't help feel a tinge of envy.

You went back to looking for Steve. Maybe you could get away with leaning on him for the rest of the night.

You saw him. Surrounded by women who would most likely be models. You recognised two of them from few magazines you might've seen. Your blood began boiling when you saw one of them touch Steve's bicep. He was as red as a tomato looking desperately for a way out.

Your anger quickly turned to sadness. If Steve was with a woman like that he'd be happier. You knew what people thought of your relationship. They called you 'healthy', 'curvy' and 'plain'. You even read an article about how Steve must still have low self-esteem from his skinny days to be with someone like you. That you were way out of his league.

You tried not to let them get to you but more often than not they did.

You tried to power through your best for the rest of the night. On the verge of crying. Steve slipped past the women he was talking to joined you and the girls. He probably knew something was bothering you because you both left quite early.

You were standing in your front of your bathroom mirror removing your makeup. After you were done, you removed you dress and spanx to finally put on some comfy pajamas.

You made the mistake of peeking in the mirror. You caught a glimpse of the stretch marks and blemishes on your body and then couldn't help but stare. Tears flowed from your eyes of their own accord.

Steve decided to join you in the bathroom to brush his teeth, maybe catch a glimpse of you taking off your clothes, what he didn't expect to see was you sniffling.

He called out your name and you looked at him, feebly trying to cover your chest with your spanx.

"What's wrong?", he asked. He wanted to pull you into his arms, stroke your hair but he decided it was best to give you some space.

"I'm... ugly", you spout not really knowing what else to say.

"Who told you that?", his demeanor changed instantly. He clenched his jaw and puffed his chest out, he'd have to give that person a piece of his mind.

"No one needs to. I know I am... look at me. I'm just so... you deserve better, you deserve someone perfect."

"But honey, you are perfect", he couldn't help it anymore he closed in on you and held your face in his hands "You're everything I've ever needed and more"

"But...but", you felt upset and overwhelmed, like you couldn't articulate your thoughts properly "I have so many stretch marks and rolls..." You stared at the ground, were you really trying to persuade your boyfriend to leave you for someone better?

"That's you. Those marks make you you. It's like how you paint strokes on a blank canvas", you smiled a bit at his analogy. He was an artist and had always considered you his muse. "Besides you know your stretch marks always make me hard"

"You're just saying that", you said shaking your head.

He took your hand and put it on his crotch. You gasped and stared at him wide eyed. He was indeed quiet hard.

"See, I'd never lie to you sweetheart", he dipped down to kiss you.

That night he showed you more than once how much he loves you and adores you. Perfect or not.

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lost-in-the-80s · 4 years

Text

You Don’t Want My Love - Chapter 3

Pairing: Duff McKagan x reader

Words: 3,786k

Summary: Guns n Roses hires a new tour assistant, but nobody thought that Duff would fall for her.

In this chapter: Erin’s arrival on the tour turns the band upside down. Y/N hadn’t realized how much she needed a friend until she had her to talk to. Y/N and Slash go to an arcade.

A/N: 1- I was struggling with this chapter, so sorry if it’s shitty.

2- I was thinking about making a playlist inspired by this fic, do you guys want it? If so, let me know!

3- Also, reminding you that I’m posting a new chapter every Tuesday.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @vinylvintage add yourself to my tag list :)

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

After Tom’s departure Y/N couldn’t avoid feeling a little lost, she’d grown used to him instructing her and she missed his participation at the silent book club. It wasn’t a club though, just the two of them, sitting backstage reading without saying anything.

The only good part about Tom leaving was that she finally got his bunk. It felt weird during the first night, to sleep somewhere that wasn’t the couch, but as soon as she fell asleep her body got used to it.

Duff was on the bunk on top of hers, as she was a light sleeper she would hear him mumbling some things while he was sleeping. He moved a lot also, which would usually wake her up, but she didn’t really mind.

It had been a week since Tom left and the things with the boys were starting to get back to normal. Duff helped her get more along with them, inviting her to play cards with the boys one night and asking about her opinion in random conversations, just so she could participate.

The two of them had grown quite close during this week, he was a nice guy, she could tell that. He always asked her to join them wherever they were going and even helped her with some of her duties when he had some free time.

And that was quite the problem. She liked his company, he was easy to talk to, and when there wasn’t a subject he would ask for her opinion on the books she was reading. He was a sweet boy. Too sweet to say the truth, and she was starting to want to be around him. But she shouldn’t.

Duff was from a completely different world, the two of them were complete opposites and the only reason why he was spending time with her was because he had no one else to. She knew that as soon as the tour ended she wouldn’t ever see him again, so she didn’t want to become too close to him.

She and Steven were back to normal, he never acted like that again and Izzy, well, Izzy was a hard person to read, he had never been rude to her, but they didn’t really talk. She didn’t take that personally though, he didn’t really talk to anyone.

Things with Axl remained the same, he hadn’t talked to her for eight days and counting, sometimes, she would laugh at one of Duff’s jokes and he would give her a death glare, but she tried to ignore.

Slash was another story. She talked to him, but just the necessary, she was still upset about what had happened during the party and expected him to apologize, but as the days passed, the less probable it got for him to do so.

In that morning, she woke up before the boys, and after doing her routine and checking up her agenda she realized that they would reach the next city around ten in the morning.

Talking to the bus driver, he informed her that they would stop for breakfast in thirty minutes, which allowed her to do her favorite part of the job.

Getting inside the bedroom area she turned on the lights while saying loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Good morning, princesses! It’s 7 in the morning and we’ll make a stop for breakfast in thirty, so move your asses out of the bed and get ready!”

Leaning against the wall opening, she saw Axl exiting his bunk, his hair was a mess as he slowly walked towards the bathroom while rubbing his eyes.

The second to wake up was Steven, just like her, he was a morning person. He got up quickly, putting a white tank top on before giving her a huge smile. “Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning, Steve!” She smiled back.

As soon as Axl left the bathroom and Steven got in, Izzy plopped on the ground beside her, he was dressed in just his underwear, which made her look in the opposite direction. However, she did notice the dark circles underneath his eyes and the remains of the hickeys Cheryl had left on his chest.

Cheryl had decided to accompany another band last Saturday, hugging Y/N tightly and telling her to call when she opened her boutique before leaving.

As per usual, Slash and Duff didn’t get up.

Getting close to Slash’s bunk she touched his shoulder slightly. “Slash! wake up!”

He mumbled in response and so she moved to Duff’s.

“Duff, time to get up!” Her head was at his bunk’s level.

He moved slightly before opening his eyes, focusing directly on hers. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Good morning, Y/N.” His voice was husky due to his sleepiness and for an odd reason, her heart started beating twice as fast.

“Good morning, Duff.” She smiled sweetly before walking out of the room.

Sitting on the couch, she grabbed a Vogue magazine and waited until the boys got ready. As the minutes passed by, all of them joined her in the living room, except for Axl, who was, as always, late.

When the bus came to a stop and they got up to exit Axl finally showed up, she, Axl and Duff were the only remaining people on the bus and she stopped to let him go first, he was already hating her, she didn’t want to give him one more reason to.

“You can go first!” He gestured with his hand for her to pass.

She looked at him waiting to see if he was being sarcastic, but the smile on his face told her that he was in a good mood. Strange, she thought while she exited the bus.

The bright morning sun hit her skin and she stopped for a while, allowing the warm feeling to take a hold of her. Starting to feel as if someone was watching her, she turned around, finding Duff walking slowly towards the snack bar.

“He spends eight days without talking to me and then he suddenly decides he’s ok with my presence!” She scoffed while joining Duff.

“Erin is coming, so he’s in a good mood.” He looked down at her.

“Who’s Erin?”

“His girlfriend.” He opened the door for her to get in first.

“But he was hitting on me when I arrived.” She frowned.

“Oh, that! He was only joking that night.” Duff smiled at her, letting a small chuckle escape.

She and Duff sat beside Steven, in front of Axl and Izzy, Slash being to her right.

When the waitress arrived, she started making the orders, a month with them had been enough time for her to know that they had certain habits.

Izzy would always ask for a black coffee and a pack of cigarettes in the morning, while Steven would ask for pancakes. Slash and Axl liked scrambled eggs with coffee and Duff would usually eat pancakes with Steven.

After asking for the food, she took a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, giving it to Izzy.

“Thank you!” He smiled at her. “You know, I didn’t expect much from you Y/N, but your efficiency is something to be recognized!”

The compliment made her smile. “Thanks.”

As soon as the food arrived they started eating while making small talk.

“These scrambled eggs remind me of my grandma ones!” Sash smiled, “You guys wanna try it?” He extended the plate for the rest of them.

Steven got some for himself, while Izzy simply shook his head.

“Want some, Y/N?”

“No, Thank you.” She replied while looking at her plate.

She didn’t see Slash frowning when he looked at Izzy as if asking if he had done something wrong, to which he shrugged.

---

Back at the bus, she focused on her reading while Steven put some cartoons on the TV.

Sitting in front of her, Slash spoke up.

"Did I do something you didn't like, Y/N?"

She stared at him for a couple of seconds. How could he not remember? She thought.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the magazine. "Actually, you did."

He stopped for a second as if he was trying to remember. "What was it?"

"You seriously don't remember?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "...No?"

They all started to stare at the two of them. Even Axl, who was expecting to see a fight. He had seen what had happened that night, but he thought Slash remembered.

"You tried to kiss me that night at the party."

"Wha-... Whe-... Oh shit, was that you?"

She nodded as a response.

Axl and Steven started laughing, Slash's face was full of confusion and embarrassment.

"Wait! She's the hot chick who you were complaining about?" Duff interjected, making fake quotation marks with his fingers.

Slash's face got hot and he thanked that his hair covered most of it.

The boys started laughing harder, even Izzy joined them.

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry, Y/N! I swear I didn't recognize you, I wouldn't ever have done that to you!" He rubbed his forehead and his embarrassment was enough to make Y/N realize that he was telling the truth.

"I'm so so sorry!"

"It's ok, just don't make it happen again!" She pointed a finger at him.

"Sure, sure! You have my word!"

---

After two more hours on the bus, they finally arrived at the hotel. They were in New York, and their hotel was huge, the lobby itself making Y/N's last apartment look like a shoebox.

She walked towards the receptionist and stopped in her tracks when she heard a high pitched scream. Turning around she saw a girl with reddish-brown hair running towards Axl, who embraced her tightly.

She was wearing white denim pants and a black tank top and seemed to be taller than Y/N. Brushing it off she went back to work, making the boys’ check-in. But she couldn't deny that she found the scene cute.

When she was giving the boys their keys, Axl stopped her to make presentations.

"Erin, this is Y/N, our assistant. Y/N, this is my beautiful girlfriend Erin." He was smiling again.

She looked at the girl, finding her smiling while extending her hand towards Y/N, who shook it, smiling a little.

"Nice to meet you!"

"I'm glad I'll have some female company around here!" Erin said, smiling harder.

If she smiles more, her cheeks will start aching. Y/N thought to herself.

"What do we have for today, Y/N?" Axl asked.

"Soundcheck at 2, interview at the arena at 4:30 and the Gig at 7."

"Sorry, doll, I won't be able to go with you." He turned towards Erin.

"But you promised me we would go shopping in New York!"

"I can't, babe, I’m sorry."

She looked around and a smile appeared on her lips.

"Can I take Y/N with me then?"

Y/N looked up from her agenda. "Me?" Her eyes slightly widened.

"What if we need her?" Axl said.

"Let the girl go, we can survive without her for a day!" Izzy said, patting Y/N's shoulder before heading to the elevator.

"Do you wanna go, Y/N?" Axl asked.

"I could use some shopping." She smiled.

Erin made a happy sound before hugging her. "We're gonna be best friends!!"

The action made Y/N laugh while hugging her back.

She was going shopping? In New York? She couldn’t believe it!

Once in her room, she took her time making a quick happy dance before quickly changing her clothes for a pink dress and some white high-heels, finalizing her outfit with some sunglasses.

Getting at the lobby, Erin intertwined her arm with hers and so the two of them got in a taxi and drove towards downtown.

The girls entered a store, starting to try clothes.

“What do you think?” Y/N asked, showing Erin a short black skirt.

“Wow! You look fierce!”

Y/N smiled, turning around to look at herself in the mirror again.

“But it’s a little bit short on you, sweetie, if you want I can get you a bigger size.” The saleswoman said while looking Y/N up and down.

Y/N checked the skirt in the mirror again, it was definitely short, but she liked it.

“Who cares if it’s short?” She asked, shrugging.

“If I was into girls, I’d definitely bang you!” Erin said laughing.

The woman’s eyes widened while she turned around leaving the two alone.

“I hate it when they keep giving opinions.”

“Uhh, me too!” Erin rolled her eyes. “Are you hungry? ‘cause I feel like my stomach is going to eat me!”

Y/N laughed. “I am!”

“Let’s go eat something then! it’s already 4 pm.”

“Really? Wow, time flew!”

Getting near the store cashier Y/N started to get worried, she had picked lots of clothes by impulse and now she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to pay for all of this.

“Should I charge everything together or separately?” The woman asked when they put the clothes on the counter.

“Se-” Before she could finish, Erin interrupted.

“All together!” She handed her the credit card.

Erin looked at Y/N and saw the confused expression on her face.

“Axl gave me the band’s card, he said I should pay for your clothes since you keep up with him every day.” She giggled slightly.

“So turns out he’s not that much of an asshole!” Y/N smirked.

Erin nudged her. “He’s not an asshole, he’s just…. just…”

“Temperamental?” Y/N laughed.

“Sensitive!” Erin replied, but laughed along.

After getting their bags, the girls walked side to side towards a beautiful café, where they ordered cake and tea, sitting at a table on the sidewalk.

“So, where are you from, Y/N?” Erin asked when they finished eating.

“North Dakota”

“Wow, and how did you end in LA?”

“I got a scholarship at UCLA.”

“Really? That’s awesome! And what course did you take?”

“Fashion. I wanted to be a fashion designer.”

“Oh, that explains a lot.” She mumbled before taking a sip of her tea.

“What do you mean?” Y/N leaned against her chair.

“Nothing, it’s just that, the boys get the feeling that you don’t like working here.”

Y/N frowned, but Erin kept talking before she could say anything.

“It’s like, you’re efficient, and you do the job perfectly, but you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, it’s almost as if it was an obligation for you.”

Y/N stopped to think. “It’s just that, I had so many dreams, and none of them happened, and I’m feeling frustrated you know? I wanted to accomplish many things, but life hit me with a bus.” She looked to her plate, sadness overtaking her.

“Hey, I get that! Sometimes things don’t go as planned.” Erin touched her hand, offering her a warm smile. “But try to see this by the bright side. Like, what are your biggest dreams?”

Taking a deep breath, she drank the remaining of her tea before answering. “I wanted to open my own boutique and I wanted to travel the world”

“Why are you saying I wanted? You can still do these things!” Getting closer to Y/N she moved the flowers in the center of the table away, trying to see her better. “You want a boutique right? If you use the money you get with the tour to invest, in three years you’ll have enough money to open it. My dad works with the stock exchange, I can ask him to give you some tips!”

“Really? Would you do that?”

“Sure!! And you said you wanted to travel the world, girl, what are you doing right now? Look around, you’re in New York, in a few months the boys will go to Europe, you are traveling the world.”

Wow. Y/N had never realized it. She was indeed living one of her dreams.

“I know that this wasn’t your dream job and that it must be really annoying to deal with the boys and stay for so long in that bus, but at least you’re not dealing with paperwork behind a desk.”

A smile started to form on Y/N’s lips. Erin was right, this was way better than paperwork. She could go to parties, dress whatever she wanted, stay at the best hotels and to be honest, she kind of liked being around the boys.

“Yeah! You’re right, Erin! This is not so bad!”

Erin nodded excitedly while drinking the rest of her tea.

“I think we should go back.” Y/N informed while checking the time on her wristwatch.

“Really? Can’t we stay for more? I wanted to go to more stores.” She pouted.

“I’m afraid not. Your boyfriend will freak out if nobody gets him his damn towels.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but giggled a little. “Speaking of it. What does he do with so many?”

Erin raised her hands in defense. “I have no idea.” She whispered while shaking her head.

---

The rest of the day went on by fine, Y/N helped the boys before and after the gig and collapsed on her bed when they got back to the hotel. So many hours walking in heels granted her a long and deep night of sleep.

She couldn’t avoid letting a small satisfied moan to escape from her lips when she got comfortable in bed. It’s so good to lay in a bed that doesn’t shake with the road. She thought, before falling asleep.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with her bedroom’s phone ringing.

“Yes?” Her voice was grog and she barely could open her eyes.

“Y/N, I want to ask for breakfast, but I don’t know how to use the hotel’s phone.” Steven’s voice filled her ears, he seemed to be hopeless.

She frowned while rubbing her eyes. “But, how did you call me then?”

He paused for a minute. “With the… phone…”

She laughed. “Hang the phone and then press 0, the receptionist will answer you.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks, Y/N!”

“It’s no problem, Steve.” She hanged the phone, laughing again.

Stretching up she saw it was 11 in the morning already. “Looks like I’ll have brunch!” She smiled, she loved brunch.

After taking a shower and putting on a pair of jeans with a red blouse, she left her room, asking for the receptionist where she could find a good restaurant nearby.

---

It was 6 o’clock now. She was in her room reading, her legs rested on the bed’s headboard while she laid upside down. A knock on her door took her away from the romance she was currently addicted to.

Opening the door she found Slash leaning against her door frame.

“What are you up to?” He asked casually.

“Just reading.” She pointed towards the book with her thumb.

“Put a jacket, let’s go out!”

“What? To where?”

“There’s an arcade nearby.” He put his hands in his pant’s front pockets.

“Hmm, I don’t know…”

“Come on, everybody is out for dinner, we’re the only ones who stayed.”

Her lips turned into a thin line as she tried to think.

“Come on, it’s gonna be fun! You can read some other time!”

“Fine! Give me 5 minutes!” She closed the door on his face, before rushing to find her new denim jacket she had bought the day before.

Applying some mascara and a nude lipstick she got her purse and exited the room.

When they got on the street, Slash spoke up.

“Once again, I’m sorry about the party! It won’t happen again!”

“It’s ok!” She assured him with a small smile.

Entering the arcade a red light covered their skins, Tears for Fears played in the background and she smiled, she loved them.

“What do you wanna do first?” Slash asked after they got the tickets.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s my first time!”

“Oh, so you’re having your first time with me?” He tried to smirk, but ended laughing.

She playfully slapped his arm while laughing. “Idiot!”

“Ok, pinball it is!” He yelled.

Slash taught her how to play and started complaining when her punctuation became bigger than his. “This is not possible! You’ve played it before!”

“I haven't, I swear!” She put her hand at her heart.

They went on with the night, playing many different games. When they passed by Dance Dance Revolution she stopped in her tracks.

“Oh my gosh! Let’s do this one! Please!”

“What? No way!” He started walking towards another game.

“Come on, you’re owing me after the party!”

“I’m disappointed you’re this type of person, Y/N.” He touched his chest, pretending that she had hurt him.

“Please!” She laughed at his drama.

“Ok, but I’m just watching, no way I’ll play this.”

She shrugged. “As long as you hold my purse!”

Choosing Walking On Sunshine by Katrina & The Waves she started dancing, stepping on the lights with mastery.

Her heart filled with happiness, she loved to dance, and she missed doing it more often.

“Wow! Great score!” Slash congratulated her when stepped out of the game.

“Thanks.”

He was leaning against another game table, looking into her purse, her small mirror was in one of his hands. “How do you manage to put so many things here?”

She got the mirror from his hand along with her purse, while shaking her head at him.

“You lied.”

“Me!?” She scoffed.

“You said you had never been to an arcade, but you destroyed that game!”

“It’s the truth. I had never played that.” They started walking towards the exit.

“How did you do so good then?”

“I was a cheerleader, I know how to dance.” They stopped, getting their jackets.

“A cheerleader huh?” They entered the empty streets and Slash lit up a cigarette.

She shrugged while making a bun with her hair.

They entered the hotel and got in the elevator.

“You know, for someone who listens to ABBA, you’re nice.” He teased her while smiling.

She rolled her eyes. “For someone who wears a shirt saying ‘I’m a slut’, you’re nice.”

They laughed. The doors opened and they started walking through the corridors.

“This is my room.” She pointed stopping.

“Yeah, I know. It was nice hanging out with you!” He stopped on the other side of the corridor, in front of his door.

She nodded. “I can say the same.”

“Good night, cheerleader!” He said smiling, before entering his room and closing his door.

She rolled her eyes and entered her room. Something inside her head told her that they’d be good friends.

#harley writes #you don't want my love #duff mckagan #duff mckagan fic #duff mckagan fanfic #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fic #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #gnr #classic rock imagine

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impaladolan · 4 years

Text

Capture - Grayson Dolan [1/-]

summary: a typical morning run leads to a new life of monstrous things you’d never want to speak of in front of your own mother.. ;)

warnings: not exactly smut— but some bdsm elements, swearing, and a kinda short little chapter for this soon-to-be series!

YOUR rapid breaths aligned with the pattern of your feet created a musical rhythm for your excessively beating heart to follow, your lips muttering numbers that you really didn't know why you were counting. You could see your breath in the shallow light that cascades from each lamp-fixture littered with moths and flys that linger still in the early midst of the morning. The exuberating feeling of the cool air entering and exiting your lungs each moment was what you lived for. Though it was the very first task of the day, it was all around your favorite. To wake up around four in the morning and run a couple miles before six o'clock made you feel on top of the world. And it never feels better than it does in the fall season, where the autumn leaves decorate the ground beneath you and the air frigid but nice against your rosy cheeks. You always dread when the winter came, needless to say that you've fell a time or two on the slippery sidewalks of New Jersey in the middle of January. But that didn't stop you, though your tailbone suffered for a month or two.

But this morning's air felt different.

You couldn't necessarily put a finger on it, but it just had an off-putting feeling that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Maybe it was the obnoxiously loud barking dog yanking on it's bound chains or the screeching pussy cat settled in a tin garbage can, it all just felt eerie and ominous.

Subconsciously, you decided to take a breather break and have a seat on a nearby bench. Your chest rose and fell at a quick pace, much like your running, as you sat yourself down, soon to study the area around you. Tame Impala soothingly played through the earphones engulfed by your ears, a soft humming of the lyrics coming from your own mouth as your breaths began to steady. It was incredibly nice out, with barely any wind and a chilled atmosphere surrounding your active body was the perfect mixture for the start of a day. It felt almost too nice..

Yes, you appreciated the lyrics and productions of Tame Impala's songs, but if it weren't for those soft rhythms, you would've heard the obvious crackle of a broken, stepped on stick not too far behind you. You would've heard the soft breaths that heaved and hoed around you. Even the ever so quiet chuckle of a presumable man's presence hidden in the creeping darkness. So when this dark figure approached your sound persona, you had no clue. It came to you as a surprise when the sudden pressure of a cloth clashed against both of you airways. Only out of fright did you largely inhale the calming scent that made your eyelids droop. You faded in and out of consciousness, remembering the little details you could grasp at the few times your eyes were open. One moment you felt as though you were quite a bit taller, maybe thrown over a giants shoulder. And another, where the cushiony seats of a fine smelling vehicle wrapped you in a warmth you didn't know your body needed. But after hearing the faint click of a seatbelt, your body was limp and useless, so your eyes permanently shut out of fatigue and tiredness.

It feels like a dream, it has to be a dream.

To wake up in such a beautifully furnished room surrounded by a puffy duvet and comfy pillows laid beneath your head was far from what you last remembered—which wasn't much at all. You remember waking up, getting dressed and heading out for a run, as usual, but the rest was too foggy and it made your overbearing headache worsen. So instead of focusing on how you may have gotten in such a lovely room, you exchanged your thoughts to where your are in the meantime. It was no secret that you were definitely settled in someone else's bed, distinguishably a man's since the colors of the room were neutral and gray. Tall glass windows that cover the entirety of the wall on your left where showcasing the glimmering rise of the sun, but it wasn't very bright considering the drowsy overcast that hung around.

It kinda fit your mood, actually.

But nonetheless you needed to figure out how to exactly leave the nice comfort of the mattress you were sprawled across. Though, the attempt to leave was absurd. Your limbs ached as much as your head does, which is a great amount, and it felt near impossible to even lift your head in the slightest. So with a sigh of defeat, you retire back to your former position, except this time there was the view of the unmoving ceiling.

Contrary to your aches and pains, your body jolted upward when the loud, intrusive sound of a heavy door opening invaded the large space around you. You didn't dare look to your right, towards what could be the reason you were in such a place. The spaced out footsteps that smacked against the marble flooring, due to lack of footwear, became near and you just couldn't resist the slight opening of your eyes.

Low and behold, an angel of a man stood before you, with a sheepish grin and a button nose. He was shirtless, thankfully, but his lower half was covered by a pair of dark sweatpants that nicely shaped his long legs for him. His chiseled abs and biceps that were proudly on display almost seemed like a magazine cover, even his narrow jawline contributed to beauty. You suddenly felt your eyes widen and your body heat rise extremely quick. Oh god, his glossy hazel eyes that scoured your sleep-ridden face made your core almost want to explode. Your cheeks turned red by the immediate aroused thoughts that clouded your brain. Never did you ever think you'd find a capturer so handsome..

"Morning, sweetheart.." And his voice, ooh, it cut the air with a deep masculinity that you weren't even sure if you could handle any more of it. It took a second before you could finally come to your senses and realize that this man could possibly be the one that had taken you when you were off guard and oblivious to the plans of someone or some man.

You briefly coughed before announcing, "I'm not your sweetheart, sir.." It felt weird talking, almost foreign. Your throat was dry and scratchy while your mouth was the same, it was hard to even move your tongue, but you managed your sassy remark. "Not sir, Daddy." He corrected with a stern look. In an instant your entire face was engulfed by a dark red that made your eyes water with surprise and shock.

Daddy?

You've never thought to call anybody this absurd name, not even did you call your own father daddy. It never occurred to your liking, but this struck different. The way his lips formed the word and how his voice rasped made your body fall into a spell of tinglings and your core had never ached so bad— you were in need to at least touch it, or relieve the consuming pain it withheld. "Excuse me?" Your shivery voice belted, though it contrasted against your lingering thoughts and bodily needs. "You heard me, sweetheart. If I hear you call me anything but Daddy, you'll be ruined and punished. Understand?" He was stern and sexy at the exact same time, and your head was in a whirlwind. While one part of your wanted to bolt up and slap him, the other majority wanted to test him, maybe actually make him punish you.

"Oh, but sir? I'm not exactly sure if I do understand.." Oh god, the fury that came across his face when the lack of a name was present in your little sentence. You almost thought he'd kill you right then and there, but the tightness in his jaw slacked and a smirk rose on his lips. A scream was caught in your throat when you felt his large hands lift you out of the overwhelming comfort of the duvet, and sprawl you across his knees with your ass fixed high up in the air. At that moment, you noticed the black, silky nightgown you've never seen or purchased before, that clings to your body quite nicely. But the thought vanished when the same pair of hands lifted the ends of the gown and scrunched it all the to your chest. You gasped when his fingers lightly touched your regrettably soaked folds before he pulled the matching black silk thong down your slightly shaking legs.

"It's clear as fucking daylight. Maybe you need a lesson on how to actually fucking listen to instruction, yeah?" He growled while his hand clutches your right ass cheek with a firm grip. His anger had only increased the slippery mess that your core withheld, but you could never admit to that. "I'm quite sure I know how to take fucking instructions S—A-aah!" The pain of an uncalled smack against your ass silenced you from any snood remark you could muster. "Better shut that loud fuckin' mouth of yours before it gets you in some more trouble." He seethed, repeating his actions, but the harmful truth to it was that you, in fact, enjoy the pleasureful pain he was proceeding with, one slap at a time until both of your cheeks were a rosy red and your nipples were sharpened to their farthest extent. God, you never wanted to be fucked more than you do in this moment.

But he had other plans.

Although, the plans didn't exactly involve you. He roughly picked you up and laid you back onto the bed, the sight of your hazy eyes and the longing look on your face almost made him want to fuck you right then and there, but he sadly restrained. He swiftly walked away, to where he presumably came from in the first place, but he stopped mid-step to turn around and demand one last thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch yourself, sweetheart. Or you'll be sorry you even came by those flimsy fingers of yours." His last words had you feeling worse than before and made you want to "break the rules," because whatever he would do to you would be ten times better if he were mad, right?

to be continued...

(masterlist)

#dolan twins #dolan twins smut #grayson dolan #writing #dt #ethan dolan #ethan grant dolan #ethan dolan smut #dolantwins #grayson dolan smut #smut #wrote this at 3am #;)#love you 4 reading this :)#capture #gray #dtfan10m

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out-of-jams · 4 years

Text

Rules of the Game || jhs

↠ Rules of the Game ↞ “You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous.”

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Warnings/Genre/Rating: Set in the Roaring 20s! Mobster!Hoseok. Singer!Reader. Flapper!Reader. Fluff. Strangers to lovers. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Oneshot. PG-13.

Word Count: 2.7k

Fic Theme Song: My Heart Belongs To Daddy -- Marilyn Monroe

A/n: I recommend listening to the song above to set the mood!~

| | Masterlist | |

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me.©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

The air was hot.

Humid.

Stifling.

A bead of sweat drifted down the back of your neck and goosebumps broke out on your flesh as it traveled below the top of your dress. It was one of your favorites: black and short with silver embedded jewels that glittered beneath the low ceiling lights. A tight fitting pearl necklace decorating the bare skin of your neck matched the earrings pierced through your lobes. And the heels on your feet made you taller, though not by as much as you’d like.

“You ready to go again?”

You glanced up from the glass of water clutched in your hands to meet the questioning stare of one of your dearest friends. Kim Taehyung nodded his head towards the stage that took up the whole back wall of the joint. Two women in similar styles of dresses to yours and short cut hair side-eyed him as they walked past. Giggled into their illegal cocktails and whispered behind their hands.

Perhaps if you hadn't known the man at your side before he was old enough to be weaned from his mother’s breast, then you would have sighed with them. Would have fluttered your lashes at the unnecessarily handsome man gifted with a sweet face and even sweeter disposition. You couldn’t fault them for double-taking at his warm chocolate eyes and hair long enough to cover his lightly tanned forehead.

Taehyung’s coral colored, cupid-bow lips tilted up as he tried and failed to hide how he preened beneath their longing stares. Rolling your eyes, you slid your glass of water back onto the high topped table and patted his suit clad arm. “Let’s go before you get snatched up again and I lose my saxophone player for the night.”

“That was only one time!” Taehyung’s amused voice followed you back to the stage and up the three short steps. Chatter from the packed speakeasy hidden beneath the restaurant upstairs filled your ears with familiarity.

The space wasn’t very big. Then again, it didn’t need to be. Not when it sold illegal drinks like newsboys sold papers. Molls and Dolls was one of the most popular joints in town and everyone who was anyone tried to get their names put down on the incredibly long list. The interior was ritzy, filled with expensive leather chairs, polished wooden tables, and imported Persian rugs.

At the side of the place, to the left of the stage, was the bar. Already packed with broads and fellas dressed in clothes so expensive that those who looked wouldn’t doubt that they came with enough dough to buy whatever they wanted. They belonged to the type of crowd that you didn’t.

You didn’t grow up rich, didn’t have all the possessions you owned bought with daddy’s money. Maybe that was why it was so easy to see past the fronts they wore like cheap, plastic masquerade masks. They wanted people to think that they held all the power, when in reality, they did not. Were just like everybody else when you took away their money and it came down to it.

Nodding at your piano player in a silent motion to urge him to put down the whiskey and pick up the tunes, you approached the microphone center stage. It was cool to the touch as you lightly wrapped your fingers around the stand. The ten minute break you’d taken was exactly what you’d needed to moisten your throat and prepare yourself to sing for the rest of the night.

When a familiar melody started up as your pianist danced his fingers across the keys, you felt your eyes slip closed in bliss. While the rest of the patrons were home to mansions and pricey cars, the stage was where you belonged. The eyes of those who came to watch you sing, to hypnotize them with the words that itched to spring free from your tongue, breathed life into you. And the rhythm of the instruments at your back guided the beating of your heart.

You hadn’t been singing at Molls and Dolls for very long. A year ago was when you’d been approached by the mac who owned the place. He’d caught you the moment you slid from the stage at one of the less infamous underground clubs in the city. Had praised your voice and offered you a slot to sing at his joint every Friday and Saturday night. The only catch was that you could work for him and him only.

The one thing that stopped you from turning him down (how could you live off of working two days a week?) was the hefty wad of cold, hard cash he’d slipped into your palm. A downpayment, he’d said, loose change compared to what you could make with him. Something to give you the incentive to accept.

How R.M.--he never gave out his actual name--really earned the money he got stayed a mystery to you. You knew that the safe in his office was filled to the brim with more bills than you could count; more dough than he could possibly make in an evening. But you never asked. Didn’t need to when he paid you enough to keep the questions from your mouth.

You came to sing, to sip at the drinks you were given and bask in the attention from those who envied you. Who wished they could hypnotize a room with only their voice.

Like now.

You could feel their gazes upon you while you sang and you soaked it up. Tried not to let a smirk capture your red tinted lips when you felt heat boring a hole into the side of your face. Instead, you slid your kohl lined eyes open as the band playing behind you transitioned to fast paced, sexier song.

“If I invite a boy some night To dine on my fine food and haddie.”

Across the room, a pair of dark eyes watched you. They were familiar, and yet not. Belonged to an absolute billboard of a man who looked like he fit more on the cover of magazines sold on street corners, than in the basement of a speakeasy. Hair the color of the scotch he sipped on and skin the same hue as molten honey, he met your gaze beneath heavy brows. His high cheekbones, a strong nose, and jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds were enough to catch many a lingering look.

“I just adore, his asking for more But my heart belongs to Daddy.”

You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous. Every single weekend, he claimed the same spot across the room with a handful of other, equally handsome men.

You weren’t sure what they did or why they were there. Why everyone skirted around them like particularly frightened railway mice. R.M. would join them occasionally with friendly handshakes and pats on the back. So it wasn’t very difficult to put the pieces together that wherever he got all of his money from had something to do with those fellas.

Words had never been exchanged between you and the man who watched you perform like you were the only two people in the room. Neither of you had crossed that invisible line that drew itself down the middle of space that divided you. It was an unspoken rule in the game the two of you played. You’d sing as if just for him, and he’d gift you with his attention.

“Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy So I simply couldn't be bad Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy.”

Already hooded eyes seemed to darken even further at the suggestive words that spilled from your tongue. And if you looked close enough--which you always seemed to do when it came to him--the slight quirk of his heart-shaped mouth was a sign of his approval.

“So I want to warn you laddie Though I know that you're perfectly swell That my heart belongs to Daddy Cause my Daddy, he treats it so well.”

Not even the crowd gathered around the front of your stage like meerkats, with their eyes trained on you with rapt observation could pull your own from him. One of the men sitting next to him, a petite looking blond with a soft, pretty face, leaned over to say something into his ear. Not even then did he turn away from you. Just answered his companion without breaking the rules of the game.

“If I invite a boy some night To cook up some hot enchilada Though Spanish rice is all very nice My heart belongs to Daddy.”

The hair at the back of your neck stuck to your skin from the heat that perforated the room due to too many bodies and too little air circulation. But you didn’t pay it any mind, too busy trying to stave off the feeling of disappointment when a man you didn’t recognize approached the men. Cut off your line of sight to the man sitting on the couch. Whatever was said was enough to cause him to rise, press his almost finished drink into the hand of one of his companions and follow the stranger out of the room.

Though the look he sent you before disappearing was a message in and of itself. A silent apology for ending the game before time was up.

The rest of your set up on stage didn’t affect you like it usual did. Failed to provide you with the normal high that accompanied a performance. You tried not to let displeasure show on your face when you departed the stage. The night hadn’t ended, nor would it until the first signs of light began to show as the sun rose over the city skyscrapers. But you were exhausted.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave even if you’d wanted to because R.M. had yet to pay you for the weekend. If it were Friday, then you would have just shrugged it off and let it go until the next day. But it was Saturday and you didn’t want to have to come back during one of your off days. Molls and Dolls was too far away from your apartment to hike across the city when you didn’t need to.

R.M. was nowhere to be seen, had disappeared a little while ago according to the bartender who poured you a glass of gin. So sadly, you were left waiting for the man when you weren’t even sure if he would return for the night. Sometimes he would vanish and reappear the next day like nothing had happened. Though you supposed that since he owned the place and all, it was more than acceptable for him to do so.

You just wished that he didn’t do it when you needed to get paid.

Sighing, you pressed the martini glass to your lips and took a hefty sip. The alcohol burned your throat as it slid down, but you didn’t mind it. Not when it lit fire to the blaze itching beneath your skin. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere into the flock of tittering women the moment he’d packed up his saxophone and stepped off the stage.

Left to your own devices, you rested your cheek in the palm of your free hand and surveyed the room. It was still packed wall-to-wall, filled with the sound of chatter and the jazz band who took your place performing. They were talented, good even, but you didn’t expect anything less from someone hired to work for R.M.

“Could I get you another drink, miss?”

Blinking at the sudden intrusion of a voice invading your personal space, you turned to meet the shameless stare of a stranger. He had a face that was all angles and sharp lines with eyes the color of the sky at midday. By the way he carried himself, leaned against the bar like he owned it, you could already tell what kind of man he was. One who thought he could have anything he wanted with the snap of fingers because of the weight of his wallet. Who thought he was the absolute bees-knees.

Raising an eyebrow at the way his gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs exposed by your dress, you took another sip out of your glass. “I’m still drinking this one.”

“After, then,” he winked. “What d’ya say?”

You hummed before looking pointedly away from him in hopes that he’d get the message without you needing to spell it out. “No.”

“No?” Apparently not. The only thing he got was closer to you as he slid across the bar until his arm brushed your side. “Come on, doll. Don’t be a prude.”

Turning back to shoot him a heated glare, you leaned away from his touch. “Are you deaf?”

He didn’t seem at all affronted by your scoff when he reached up to brush your cheek with his pointer finger. “Can’t say that I am. Now accept my offer before I take it back.”

“Take it back, then.” You jerked your head back until he had no choice but to drop his hand.

“You--”

“I believe that the lady said no.” A voice, deep and raspy and accented with a vocal fry, spoke from over your shoulder. Warmth from a hand pressed to your waist accompanied it, and you found yourself looking back in surprise.

The first thought that came to your mind was that he was a lot taller than he looked from across the room. To the point where you had to crane your head up to take him all in; the sliver of his neck exposed by his expensive suit, a mole beneath his right eye, two dimples that indented either side of his mouth as he pursed his lips in displeasure.

He cocked his head to the side, voice pitched dangerously low. “Don’t make her say it again.”

One glance at the fella who’d forced his presence on you had you raising a brow at how quickly the blood drained from his face. His blue eyes were blown wide, mouth opening and closing like he’d forgotten how to make a sound. He let out a squeak that sounded so incredibly unmanly that you were embarrassed for him, before making himself scarce. Perhaps his reaction should have given you second thoughts about the man who’d come to your rescue, but it didn’t.

It only made you all the more curious.

“I could’ve handled that, you know.”

He looked down at you, took in your playful smile and flashed you one of his own. “I didn’t like his hands on you.”

“But yours is fine?” You questioned, referencing his own hand still on your waist.

He hummed, a deep rumbling sound, and smirked. “You tell me, dollface.”

“I think,” you tilted your head towards the bar, “that you should give me your name and buy me another drink.”

You could feel it then, like the room had shifted.

He barely even had to glance at the bartender for him to make his way over. “You can call me Hoseok.”

Hoseok brushed a stray hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. It took all you had not to let the way your heart raced from the simple gesture. “And you?”

Your name fell from your mouth and something flashed in his eyes as he tasted it on his lips. Gestured for you to tell the bartender what you wanted.

The rules of the game had changed.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #hoseok #hoseok fic #bts #bts fic

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