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rileyslibrary · 10 months

Note

pretty pretty please 🩶

imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)

———————————————————————

You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.

You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.

“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.

He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”

You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”

“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”

“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”

“Have you heard, kids—”

“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”

He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.

He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.

You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”

“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”

“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”

You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.

“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”

“Bullshit!” You scowl.

“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”

He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.

“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”

“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”

“How do you know?”

He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”

“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.

“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”

“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”

“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”

He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”

“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”

“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”

“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”

He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”

“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”

“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”

“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”

You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.

“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”

He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.

“Hey, um, sir?”

He shifts his focus to you.

“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.

He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.

“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”

He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.

“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.

You move away from him and stand behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.

You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?

But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.

You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.

As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”

———————————————————————

A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #ghost cod mwii #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod

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inklore · 11 months

Note

I took this concept from your inpso tag and adapted it but:

Roman Godfrey + choking you and whispering "you're mine." in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. bonus points if there's blood.

LOVE YOUUU

playful poison

— roman godfrey x (f)reader

word count: 628

warnings: eighteen+ content, rough-ish p in v, choking, jealousy, dirty talk, mentions of creampie and blood.

note: me writing roman godfrey smut in 2023? embarrassing but hello i cannot be responsible for my actions when men are as beautiful as him ok.

Maybe it was childish of you to love the thrill of the game. No matter how one sided and deliberately rigged it was. The threat of the outcome ending in something gruesome or with your lungs burning from a fight that you started the minute you decided to bat your eyes at some sorry sucker at the bar. The thrill that shot through you when Roman’s eyes would scan the room with neutrality, his entire body growing stiff, an undeniable tick in his jaw, when his eyes fell upon you.

Upon the little scheme you had devised.

A scheme he knew all too well—a game he only allowed you to play on nights when he was in a good mood.

And thankfully for you, he was in a good mood tonight. A giving mood.

A mood that wouldn’t end in a screaming match but rather the reason you kept the game going. The outcome of a move you already had planned and hoped for even before your chess pieces had been put on the table.

“You’re mine.” His teeth graze your ear as he whispers the words with harsh restraint. The hot breath from his mouth heats your already hot body to something sweltering. Something that has you gripping his sides harder. “You know that, right? Your constant need for a reminder has my patience wearing thin,” he whispers, barely holding the bite meant to be within them. His thumb rubs the skin on your neck before he tightens his grip around your throat.

A gasp pulls from your lungs before he closes them completely. His hips languid and slow as he fucks you. As he takes his time to drive his cock into your aching pussy.

His teeth nip into your neck, “do I need to repeat myself?” Your body arches into his when you feel the light nick of a fang. “Do I need to drain you of everything until you’re begging for the life only I can give you? Do you need that reminder?” The swivel of your head is barely able to make the same impact as the whimper you let out does. “You do look so fucking pretty covered in your own blood, though,” he grunts.

The heat of his other palm grips the back of your thigh as he pulls your leg further up his body, driving his cock deeper into you. The head of his cock pushing against that part of your walls that makes you cry out until your throat is hoarse and you’re not sure if it’s pain or pleasure—or the lack of air getting to your lungs from the hand around your throat—that has you spineless and weak beneath him.

If there are two things you know for certain about Roman, it’s that he uses fucking as a tactic to get what he wants and to punish.

And with the harsh rut of his pelvis, the relentless pounding, you know that he’s getting off on your pain. Of your oversensitivity, of the need that he’s giving on the same stroke he withholds from touching and hitting the spots that would have you coming on his cock.

You haven’t earned it yet.

You know he’s thinking. That he’s testing you. That he’s playing a game with your pleasure, the same game you played with him earlier. The same game both of you are used to, but your body still has yet to not ache and mewl from the torment of it all.

“I can feel your cunt gripping my dick. You know what to say to get what you want. Or should we keep playing games, and I fill your hole and leave it dripping, and wanting for something you don’t deserve because you don’t know how to behave?”

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey smut #roman godfrey #bill skarsgard x reader #roman godfrey imagine #bill skarsgard fanfiction #roman godfrey x you #roman godfrey fic #hemlock grove #bill skarsgard smut

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

Text

Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)

Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.

Gaz was always an expert on knots.

Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…

— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’

He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift.

You’re a bloody gift.

— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye?

Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right?

You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s.

Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in.

You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic.

Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you.

Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should.

— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us.

— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart?

You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight.

Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.

Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh?

— Sergeants outdid themselves this time.

— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love?

Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price #captain john price #soap #soap x reader #soap mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #dark ghost #dark 141 #141 x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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bonny-kookoo · 4 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]

In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA

Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words

-> Masterlist

A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter

━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.

“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.

“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.

“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.

“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.

“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.

“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.

“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.

"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.

"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.

“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.

“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.

“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.

“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.

He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.

“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-

And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.

And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

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seravphs · 7 months

Text

lazybones

wc — 2k

tags — 18+ only, fem dom, sub gojo, riding

Have you been too hard on Gojo lately?

You peek at him from the corner of your eyes. He’s next to you on the couch, freshly back from a mission. Even though he’s just sitting there, he’s being annoying again. It’s his presence, the general lack of respect that exudes from him. You clench your teeth against the urge to scold him.

Playing teacher is a leftover habit from your school days. Yaga couldn’t control him, so you took it upon yourself. It took a lot of trial and error to figure out what made Gojo obedient. Taming the strongest is a delicate balancing act, never giving him too much of the carrot or the stick - right now, you might be teetering too much on the side of punishment. How long has it been since you gave him a reward?

Gojo might be irritating, but he’s still deserving of respect as the pinnacle of Jujutsu society. He works hard, even if he doesn’t show it.

You glance over at him again. He’s never injured when he comes back from missions, but sometimes there’s another problem he has to take care of. Since you first checked on his condition five minutes ago you've been waiting for him to ask for help or deal with it alone, but the visible bulge in his pants hasn’t gone away. The five minutes you gave him clearly wasn’t enough.

You glance meaningfully between his thighs. “Are you going to take care of that?”

“Nah,” he shrugs. “I’m exhausted. Too much work.”

Nodding, you return to your work. Halfway through shuffling papers, you realize that your threshold for normalcy has changed since knowing Gojo Satoru. He has that effect on people. Adapt or die.

The couch shifts. Exasperated, you look over - only to see Gojo rolling his hips gently, grinding on nothing. His mouth is open and his eyes are closed as he pants softly.

“Are you serious,” your voice is completely toneless.

One eye cracks open, brilliant blue all the way to its core. “Hurts,” he groans. “This is the first time all week-“

“Can’t be that bad,” you say, even as you wonder why you’re entertaining this conversation, why you’re not getting up and leaving. “You look like you have all the time in the world. Can you even get off like that?”

“No.”

“Are you stupid?”

He moans. You know he’s only doing it to fuck with you. “Yeah, be meaner,” he goads.

You don’t know why you’re saying it. “Do you need help?”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Forget it,” your face burns. “If you don’t-“

“No, no,” he rushes to get the words out. “Help is good. Help would be great. Can you just, ah, can you-“

You reach over to palm him over his pants. He shudders, his spine taut as he arches instinctively towards your touch. His eyes roll back in his head. How badly did he need this? You shove his shoulders back so you have more room to work, preventing him from hunching over you. He grins up at you as you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

“Shh,” you murmur. You don’t recognize your own voice. It’s sensual in a way you’ve never imagined you could be, especially not for him. There’s something soothing about it, melodic and low. “Don’t say anything. Just let me handle it.”

“Okay- ah, fuck,” he hisses as you grip him a little more meanly.

“What did I say?”

Wisely, he doesn’t say anything. He’s always been a quick learner, usually the first to pick up on lessons.

“Good boy,” you coo. A soft breath escapes through his half open lips. You settle on his lap, continuing to work him through pants until he can’t take it anymore and throws his head back, baring his throat. His Adam's apple bobs as he heaves for breath. It’s too tempting. You kiss a bead of sweat arcing down his neck, tasting the salt of his skin before you bite down.

His muffled groan would tell you how much he liked it even if he wasn’t shaking with desire. Your lips curve into a smile against his neck before gracing him with another piece of evidence to carry with him tomorrow.

When you pull back to survey him, there’s more red on his body than you left. He’s so wound up that he’s nearly bitten through his lower lip. You make a humming noise of disapproval at him, but it’s not a major concern when you have such an easy solution.

He grabs at you as you climb off of him, but you shove his hands away. “Patience,” you scold as you tug your stockings off. His eyes light up, but you pity him. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

You shove the black mesh into his mouth. “Keep that there until you can learn not to hurt yourself.”

Whatever complaint he can voice through the fabric is lost as you drag his zipper down and reach into his boxers. His cock drools as you stroke him lazily, not putting too much thought into his enjoyment. This part is for you.

It’s not enough, you know. He needs more stimulation. But you like the way he’s growing more and more needy. You want to drive him insane, want to see him lose everything for you. You want to peel back the persona of the strongest sorcerer and make him lose himself in lust.

It’s almost sick, the way you want to see him brought low. A part of you wonders if you need to consider some kind of professional help for the enjoyment you’re deriving from this, the other, greater part is simply enjoying the high color in his cheeks.

You know how to take him apart, piece by piece, and you do it with a beautiful, precise brutality. He breaks for you, lets you arrange him to your liking.

“You can speak now,” you tell him, tugging your stockings out of his mouth. He moans in relief.

“Can I- can I please come?”

“No one’s stopping you, sweetheart.”

He’s so out of it that he can’t control his expressions. You giggle at the face he’s making, almost sexier for how silly it is. You reach forward fondly to wipe the saliva at the corner of his mouth, doting on him.

“So messy,” you murmur.

The noise he makes in response is barely even human.

“I can’t, not like this,” he whines. “Why are you torturing me?”

“I’m not doing anything. You know what you have to do if you want to come.”

He grins up at you, dazed. “You’re really going to make someone as pretty as me beg?”

“It’s because you’re pretty that I’m making you beg. Now come on, gorgeous. Put that mouth to work.”

“You’re evil,” he whines. You can feel him twitching.

“And?”

“So mean,” there’s a slight hitch in his breath when your other hand reaches towards the nape of his neck, your nails gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re hurting my feelings, you know.”

Dragging your nail over the head of his cock produces a delicious shiver from him.“Come on, pretty boy. Don’t you want it?”

He drops his head again, hanging over the back of the couch. “Fuck,” he pants. “Yeah. Please. I’ll do anything, please let me come.”

“Try a little harder.”

He groans, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Damnit, what do you want from me?”

You pull away.

He yelps, scrambling towards you. “Wait. Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please, come on?”

“Tell me something I want to hear, princess.” Your strokes are slow, matching the tempo of your conversational tone. There’s a ruddy blush already spreading across his cheeks, dappled strawberry on cream. You want to bite it, so you do. Noise tears out of his chest, entirely authentic surprise. It’s only a second before you pull away, no harm done but the idea of it. Gojo scowls at you.

It doesn’t change the fact that he got naked for you, or that he’s staying under you. You like him best like this, understanding of his place.

A monster of a man, tamed just for you.

“You’re obedient like a dog. Can you bark like one too?”

He gives you another scathing look which only merits a laugh.

“No? Maybe next time.”

You grip him a little tighter, rubbing your thumb into the sweet spot right under the head of his cock. He tries and fails not to twitch. It’s not good enough. You want to see him flail, sob, choke. You tease the sensitive tip and watch him crumble.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so close, please.”

His breath breaks on a moan, a strangled noise as he tries and fails to control himself. You love it, this part of him, still holding onto a quickly crumbling idea of pride or strength. It endears him to you so much you cup his cheek, comfort enough that he might be convinced to let go.

His next word is lost in the sound of a hiccup as tears begin to build in the corner of his eyes. You can sympathize. He’s at the point where pleasure feels too good and everything begins to feel too sensitive, too painful. His nerves, already more refined than the average person’s, must be burning, yet he holds on.

Not for much longer. You’ve built a rhythm now, stroking him fast, but he seems to love the manhandling. The rough treatment pushes him closer to the edge, closer to what you know he needs. His hips jerk with minute movements, trying not to drive you away once more. He wants to be good.

He’s practically drooling as you push him around. The slick noises of your palm against his skin quicken as his abs clench, finally unraveling for you. You keep at it, stroking him through it to the edge of overstimulation.

“Too much,” he whines. “It hurts!”

You slow down. “So you don’t want more? Too bad, I was going to let you fuck me.”

Gojo’s voice sounds ruined, but his hands are going to your hips instead of pushing you away. He tugs you even closer. You can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressed between your bodies. Even though he looks like he might sob if you keep toying with him, he nuzzles his head against your chest.

“More, Satoru?”

“Anything you’ll give me,” he promises.

You test him first, offering nothing to test the limits of his sensitivity. He doesn’t whine anymore, knowing by now to let you do as you please. His big hands are splayed over your hips as he helps you bounce in his lap, fucking between your thighs, but not where he wants.

“Can you even go again?”

“I told you-” You decide that he can. “Oh god-”

You’re hot and wet and tight around him. After so much teasing, his brain short-circuits. He said he could, but with the way he’s acting, you really don’t think he can handle it. You go to climb off him again, but Gojo moves before you can.

“No,” he whimpers, hands pressing you down harder. He bucks his hips up, trying to get deeper, trying to fill you up. You don’t know how he still has the strength to carry you, but he’s the strongest, after all. He picks you up just to drop you back down onto him.

You’re fucking like animals now, wet and messy. You can hardly hear anything over your combined moans and the noises coming from between the two of you, filthy, slick sounds. His hands are digging into your hips so hard that you can feel the bruises he’ll leave tomorrow.

Every drag of his cock against your pussy is bordering on painful as he chases his own pleasure, blind to everything but his need to mark you. You’re so full it aches, but beautifully, until it transforms into something else, satisfying an all-consuming need inside of you.

When you come, your orgasm wracks through your body. You clench down on him involuntarily, gasping as your pussy throbs around him. It ruins you, the way he presses up into you, trying to fuck you through it. Your thighs can’t stop trembling, your eyes rolling back in your head. You don’t want to imagine how you must look right now.

“Close,” Gojo gasps out. He’s been reduced to monosyllables for the past few minutes, all wit vanished from him. No sooner than he says it, his head drops onto your shoulder as he presses you down onto his lap, spilling inside of you. You whimper at the feeling, heat spreading through your core.

“What the fuck was that?” Gojo breathes shakily into the silence that ensues.

“Just- just shut up,” you reply. You hadn’t expected it either.

Gojo laughs and tucks a sweaty arm around you. “Were you hiding that from me all along? I mean, I knew you were into me, but-”

You do the only thing you know will shut him up. You kiss him. His eyes are hazy when you pull back.

“Um. Okay,” he says. “One more time?”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #ns.fw

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atlasnessie · 1 month

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let it be known, i am incapable of love. wings of the devil — mini series

SYNOPSIS — osamu dazai is a feared man in the underworld, so why won’t you fear him the same ?

series masterlist tag list (open) — @cheriiyaya @kuro-chi69 @sleepykolya @kissesmellow21 @lilylylalil

DAZAI KNEW HE IS UNDESERVING OF LOVE.

he is incapable of such feelings, he believed. being one of the most feared demons of all the underworld, one adapts to the name and titles others give. even the whisper of his name brings shivers down other demons’ backs, imagining the horrid rumors of things the demon had done to those who had dared cross the wrong path with him. dazai’s enemies worst mistakes are to be his enemies in the first place, after all.

though, after coming down and falling onto your apartment balcony, he can’t help but let loose, even in the slightest ways. he can’t help but want to be taken care by you, a simple human who has really no interesting qualities. his tense feathered wings relax as he trots around the small apartment flat, his clothing gets less and less formal, his trench coat and dress shirt forgotten and the only thing he’s familiar with now is the t-shirts you buy him every once in a while.

why do you do this, he wonders. why bother trying to help a demon that could take and claim your soul at any given moment, at any opening that was available ? why bother care for him, bathe him, feed him, and do all these extra acts to a thing that would be sent away back to the underworld once a proper spell had been found ?

he never knew. perhaps you’re just a dumb, naive human.

”honestly, human, if i were you, i would’ve bitten off his head and serve it to the lowerclass of the underworld !”

“not. helping.” you grumbled, head in hands as you sat on your couch. you had arrived home in a bad mood, dazai puzzled out. your boss had just dumped files upon files on your desk that had to be done by the end of the week and not only that, he wanted you to train a newbie all at once. to the demon, that sounded like nothing but a lazy chore, he could flick his wrist and pens would start to write on their own and papers would be done and filled in no time, allowing him touring the newbie with a devilish smile. he could do it. but he wasn’t you nor an employee at your work establishment.

“a shame,” he sighed out, stretching and placing his arm behind you, nudging you with his knee. “if you were free at all this week i would’ve taken you out for a quick fly around the port. ‘s supposed to be quiet the sunsets, i’ve heard.”

you groaned again, rubbing your eyes and peaking them out from your fingers, brows furrowed as dazai leaned his head closer to you, a devilishly charming grin on his face.

“you’re really not helping. i’ve heard this newbie doesn’t know how to do shit.” with a sigh, you rest your back on the plush backrest of the couch, not having the mental strength to scold dazai to remove his arm away from your head.

“like i said, a shame.” dazai snickered, poking your cheeks with a clawed finger in tease. “those are what newbies are. they don’t know anything and need to follow you around like a little puppy dog.”

with a glare, dazai chuckles and raises in hands as if in surrender before dropping them down to his side, crossing his legs and looking at you with wide eyes.

“how about i just kill him. your boss, i mean. i could do it with a snap of my finger, just say the word.”

“you can’t kill him, dazai.” you cringe, a cartoonish thought of dazai biting your bosses head off was quite amusing, but you made sure not to let it show.

“sure i can ! he can die of a heart attack, i could twist his insides, make him loosing his footing while walking down the stairs, or—”

“no like, i don’t want you to kill him. i need my paychecks ..!” dazai’s shoulders slump, his toothy smile falling into one of dramatic disappointment.

“ah, you’re no fun, dear.”

the neighborhood streets of yokohama were wet and dark. it had just showered rain, the thick smell of fog engulfing a particular man’s lungs. he stood by a bus stop lamppost, puffing out a cloud of smoke, a thick cigar resting in between his fingers.

“waiting for the bus ?” a voice spoke up from amongst the darkness. the man shifted his eyes to the young adult, eyes smiling like crescents. he was taller than the man, his hair messy and unkept. his clothing were casual, something worn by a house husband or someone who works at home.

“yeah.” the man croaked, placing the cigar back between his lips. the taller individual hummed in response. there was a silence for a moment, the light flickering for a second or two as a car passes by, its wheels going over a small puddle of rainwater on the side before the stranger spoke again.

“you’re the boss of the building not so far from here, yes ? the one with the fancy pillars and open glass windows ?”

“ah,” the mans eyes shone with narcissism. he tossed his cigar away to the ground without thought and pulled out a business card from his breast pocket, handing it to the taller stranger with two hands. “why, yes i am ..! have you heard of me ?”

“i’ve heard plenty.” the stranger carelessly took the card without much thought, glancing at the front and back in pretend attentiveness before slipping it in his back pocket.

“i’ve also heard you have a newbie.”

“oh, yes. he works like a girl. doesn’t even know how to use a copy machine. i’m just hoping the mentor gets their shit together and do what they’re supposed to.” the man grumbled, waving his hands in disregard, only stopping when the stranger chuckles. the business man takes a closer look at the stranger. the light shone on parts of his face in a well manner and, he couldn’t help but admit, this man was quite the eye catcher. a model, perhaps ?

”who’s the mentor ?”

“some kid that’s been working here for a while. a charmer, for sure. doesn’t talk much so i don’t even bother.” the man dug in his pockets to grab his cigar case and lit one up again with well practice. he exhaled and continued. “i assigned ‘em some files, and i swear, that kid flipped me off or somethin’.”

“what’re you gonna do about it ?” the stranger holds back laughter and asks with feigned interest, his head leaning in closer.

“assign ‘em hell, of course !”

the bus slowly rolled up to the stop, its doors swinging open as the man spit out his newly lit cigar, dusting off his clothing and preparing to get on the vehicle.

“you’re not getting on ?”

“no, i’m … waiting for someone.”

the man hesitated and bid the stranger farewell, walking up the stairs as the doors closed behind him. as the bus slowly drove away from the stop, the man standing by the post turned by his heels and walked back from the direction he came from, snapping his fingers once gently with a devilish grin, the moonlight shining on his dark hair. from a distance, he could hear the businessman’s cries of pain, his nicotine filled lungs screeching in anguish.

“where have you been ?!”

“hush now, human ! no need to shout in the middle of the night !”

your hair is still wet from after your shower and your eyes are wide despite the time of night. dazai casually slips off his shoes and walk towards you, a smile on his face.

“i was taking a midnight stroll. isn’t that what humans do when they’re bored ?” you raise up a hand, stopping the demon from coming any closer.

“you reek of cigarettes.”

dazai blinks. he then lifts the collar of his shirt to his nose and sniffs it once before blinking again with innocent eyes. “i do reek,” he responded back. you grumble and point towards the small bathroom, your voice impatient as you demand of him to take a shower. the demon can’t do anything but chuckle and comply. it’ll be worth it by the morning.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #atlas writes !

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ellabsweet · 9 months

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[ੈ✩] 𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 • 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐒

synopsis: in which The Deadbeats band is a success, ellie as lead singer and guitarist, abby as a bassist, jesse on the drums and dina on the keyboard, despite their chaotic nature and eventual love affair with a certain groupie

pairing: rockstar!ellie x reader x rockstar!abby

warning: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, very lightly based on the dynamics of daisy jones and the six, eventual nsfw content so minors and men do not interact, multiple part series

authors note: so im starting this little thing with a groupie!reader and very chaotic dynamic band au with rockstars!abby and ellie fighting for her affection, if you want to be tagged just let me know and i will add you to a taglist! enjoy babies

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄: 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

“Dina Woodward had a saying of her own lightly adapted from some childhood friend’s hip grandmother that went along the lines of: You either fuck it, or hop off the top. That was the mindset that led a group of young adults from a small town in Wyoming to ultimate stardom in rock circles all across the globe-” Ellie made sure to interrupt Jesse’s reading, clutching the newspaper off his hands and forcing it apart in even shreds.

“They made us sound like a fucking inspirational movie”

“I told you that’s what happens when you accept to be interviewed by these mainstream fascists Abby’s daddy can buy out”

“Well, Ellie, here’s a little tip then how about you stop snorting up all our gig cash and actually write some new fucking songs so we don’t have to depend on these interviews that are buying the fucking powder you can’t keep from shoving up your nose” Abby was angry as per usual, landing a soft blow over the table Ellie leaned over, scattering sprinkles of the white drug across the floor. Jesse prepared himself to get between them quickly, his own set of muscles basically newly acquired for these situations, a fiery Ellie and overtly stronger Abby was entertaining the first couple of times when bruised eyes could be hot accessories, but it’s frequency died down the style quickly.

“Fuck you and your moral superiority you only joined the band because you wanted to piss off your fancy rich parents and we only let you because we needed the investment”

“Els, shut the fuck up you know that she’s a good bassist” Dina sighed, looking around for the vacuum cleaner to avoid questions from her tennants later.

“And a better singer too” Abby smirked, her laugh echoing across the room as Ellie leaned in to punch her and was stopped by Jesse’s grip that she remained fighting incessantly.

She thought of Joel, her step father, wondered for a split second what he’d think of her in this situation and quickly shook the thought of her mind. It was irrelevant what Joel would’ve thought, because he was dead alongside anyone else she ever loved, like a plague. Cursed was the title track of their album and it explored the feeling of grief and anger better than anyone could’ve forced out of her in conversation. The other members went as far as thinking perhaps it meant something different, a change within. It never came. Ellie remained the same hot headed impulsive lyrical genius whose talent was wasted on her for always being too overly wasted herself.

“Can we please just get back to practice?” Jesse pleaded, his surprising patience wearing thin.

It didn’t matter, in the end. They were Ellie’s band. Abby was a bass goddess. Music saved Jesse’s life. Dina secretly thought it all to be amusing. They were incredible together, despite the drugs and screams and punches, breathtaking. The band would live on and so would the chaos. You either fuck it, or hop off the top.

taglist: @abbysvictim @lottiematthewsceo @sadeyedsugar @digit4lslut @r0ckgoblin comment to be added!

#ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #the last of us fanfiction #ellabs x reader #ellie williams smut #abby anderson smut #rockstar!ellie #rockstar!abby #lesbian #ellie williams #abby anderson

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neteyamsoare · 9 months

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Never Give Up.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Neytiri Sully & Fem! Daughter! Lo’ak’s twin! Omatikaya! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Request From [🫧 anon]. It’s me! 🫧, rising from the grave with an idea. I need some mama bear Neytiri I beg ;-; just comforting reader who’s unsettled at Awa’atlu and isn’t coping well with the change? I’m so sorry I’ve been like completely dead for like a month, I’m nearly through it lmao and hopefully I’ll be haunting your inbox again 😅

༉‧₊˚. Summary. After moving to the Metkayina, you watch your siblings easily adapt while you still struggle making you feel like a failure.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Hurt — Comfort.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Crying, reader having doubts about herself, headcanons format intended, and some fluff at the end.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 645.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Sa’nok — [mother].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. 🫧 anon I hope you like this, I always love it when you come into my inbox with requests or just to talk since you were my first emoji anon and you have been with me for the longest. I really liked how I did this since I love writing comforting fics so I hope y’all like it as well. I honestly thought I wouldn’t get it done on time but I did, finished it at 2 am in the morning!!

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

𝜗𝜚 — "You're quiet today," Neytiri observed as she looked up from her basket and looked over at you, watching the forcefulness of your hand movements, the frown that sat on your face as your eyebrows were scrunched together, and the agitated tail behind you. “What’s wrong?”

𝜗𝜚 — “Nothing is wrong, Sa’nok, I’m fine,” you lied but Neytiri saw through it knowing that something was bothering you and she wasn’t going to give it up. “[Name]...” She began this time using a gentle maternal tone that you knew all too well.

𝜗𝜚 — Letting out a sigh, you stop weaving and try to avoid her eye contact, you knew she wouldn’t let it go so why not come out with it? “Why can’t I be like them?” you mumbled thinking she didn’t hear you but she did. “What do you mean?” she queried as she moved closer to you, taking a braid out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.

𝜗𝜚 — You move away from her touch and her ears flatten against her head in sadness, you used to always lean into her touch when you were younger, it’s really hitting her that you’re growing away from her. “Why can’t I be like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, hell even Lo’ak,” you mumbled. “They’re easily adapting here and I still can’t get it right?”

𝜗𝜚 — “Back in the forest, everything came to me easily but now…” you take a breath as you try to fight back the tears from falling.

𝜗𝜚 — “Now everything is hard for me and I’m always the one left behind because I can’t manage to hold my breath longer…” The tears rolled down your cheeks as you let out a sob and Neytiri's heart broke to see you like this, she immediately pulled you into her embrace holding you tightly.

𝜗𝜚 — “I’m sorry, I’m such a failure.” you wept as you buried your face in her chest.

𝜗𝜚 — “Hey, stop that, you can never be a failure in my or your father's eyes,” she coos softly as she rubs your back.

𝜗𝜚 — “You should never compare yourself to other people, you’re you and that’s what matters to us.” She says as she pulls away from the hug to wipe the tears off your beautiful face, she saw a lot of her in you at this moment since you shared a lot more of Jake’s traits and smiled a bit.

𝜗𝜚 — “We all learn at our own paces, you’re not going to get everything so quickly.” She comments as she looks down at you with a soft gaze.

𝜗𝜚 — “Your father did not pass his first training with Tsurak just like how years ago, he didn’t get things on the first try just like you. She smiled as she remembered the moments when she had to teach Jake. “But he never gave up and kept trying and gave it his best.”

𝜗𝜚 — “You have what it takes to learn to adapt, don’t give up so easily.” You nod your head quietly as you rub your eyes a bit, letting out a small smile. “Also don’t bottle this all up inside you, your father, siblings, and I are here to talk or when you need a shoulder to lean on.”

𝜗𝜚 — “Alright, I’ll come to you next time,” she smiles at your response and pulls you in for a hug. “I’ll keep trying, I won’t give up,” you assure her. “Good.”

𝜗𝜚 — “Would you talk to me about your crush on the Chief’s son?” She queried as you pulled away, she raised an eyebrow bone and your face began to heat up and a flustered smile showed up on your face.

𝜗𝜚 — “W…what crush? I don’t like him at all.” You stutter but all Neytiri does is smile, seeing through that lie but she doesn’t say anything, just simply lets out a laugh and goes back to weaving her basket.

🔖 @zanabelle99, @neteyamyawne, @moonchildxoxx, @jakescumdump, @saeayanaa, @btsiguess-kpop, @sweetdayme4427, @neytiriandronalswife, @angelsamor, @23victoria, @tsireqas, @kittenw, @valentinqee, @kiriswifejayden, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @crustyboypix, @ducks118, @lilmackiee, @kasai-https, @neo-novaa, @minniere, @devluvsloak.

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azullumi · 10 months

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“boyfriend messages” ; diluc & kaveh

info — random conversations between you two that are part of your daily life; alternatively, how does he communicate through text messages?

characters — diluc and kaveh (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern au ; headcanons

words — 920

note — need me a gossip buddy who’ll film fights for me, also, ignore the timestamps and status bar !! i still have another fic coming up but i need to be focused while writing it (^^)/

;; 🍷

he’s often the first one to greet you in the morning, the first one to give you a call before you start your day, always the one to accompany you.

calls. call. calls. if it’s not so obvious already, this man prefers calling more than texting—prefers hearing your voice than reading words on a digital screen and having to imagine what you would sound like saying them. he always make sure that he calls you at least once each day, even if one of you has to hang up after a few minutes or if you two would only do their own thing and not talk to each other that much. in line of that, falling asleep during the call is something that isn’t uncommon between you and him.

aside from other close friends and acquaintances, you’re the only one in his contacts and the only one he always talk to—his call history is just you accompanied with a few others and your name is always on top of his messages. he has your profile saved with a sweet endearment as its name and a photo that he took of you, in which its existence you don’t know of.

a random thing about him is that he doesn’t use emojis at all, and prefers not using them. it’s not like he doesn’t understand the use of it, it’s just that he chooses not to. on that note, he doesn’t go ‘AHAHAHAHA’ in text whenever he finds something funny—he doesn’t go for the lowercase one either—he simply just tells you: “that’s funny.”

he’s not afraid to tell you that he misses you, that he wants to see you, and just one word from you, one message, a single statement, he’ll be right there at your doorstep to satisfy his yearning and yours also. even if he’s from the other side of the world, he’ll make his way to you as long as you also feel the same.

one thing that he often does for you is drop off gifts for you or have it delivered to your name without your knowledge and thus, he always end up surprising you—sending him a message as soon as you receive it with a bunch of question marks or anything. his gifts are often random, a variety, it could be food, could be books, jewelry, something that has been in your wishlist or cart for so long but couldn’t get, and many more. his reason? he just wants to. it’s not an exaggeration to say that your home isn’t filled with items that you got from him.

have i mentioned that he just loves showing off his affection to you in many ways that he can? he just loves you, that’s all the reason needed for everything.

;; 🌻

gossip buddy and lover boy. gossip is always found in your message history with him, it’s that one topic that has you two talking for hours, often diverting to another one before going back to it at just a mention of a word—“speaking of apples, did you know ‘toilet’ got into trouble because he threw one at the window? also, i heard that he cheated on his girlfriend.”

the most ridiculous code names are being used as a substitute for someone’s name and if someone were to ever hear you or see the chats, they would end up being confused on why are you talking about a water bottle and a shower head having a fight in a bar.

he is exceptionally good at expressing himself through texting despite the many struggles of others when doing so—he uses emojis, gifs, emoticons, images, and everything, it’s not shocking that he uses some combinations even and it’s not also surprising that you’ll get used to his texting language and even adapt to it. although, he often shortens his words whenever he’s in a rush: ‘sry hve 2 go, ppl r clling m’ is translated to, ‘sorry i have to go, people are calling me’ and there’s a mwa (a kiss in the form of words) at the end.

the type to greet you as soon as the clock strikes twelve when it’s your birthday, the type to send the randomest message at the most random time on the morning, and the type that will tell you in advance if he wouldn’t be able to message you for some time as he’s occupied with some things—mainly, his plates—which gets you worried because when he’s at that state, he will most likely forget to take care of himself.

that leads you to having to check up on him from time to time, asking if he had eaten anything and telling him to take a break. he appreciates it really, despite the scoldings he gets from you when you learn of the fact that he had neglected himself, it shows that you care.

he sends photos of himself, a selfie or a mirror photo showing off his outfit before he goes out. he hasn’t said it but he loves it whenever you rain him with compliments, it has him grinning like an idiot on his phone (mans kicks his feet and rolls around the bed).

he just loves talking to you, whether it’s through the mere act of messaging and calling each other or doing it in real-time, gossiping and discussing about rumors that would entertain you both for boths or simply just him admiring you with his eyes as he listened to you blabber about the most randomest things.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #diluc headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin diluc #genshin kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #azul.writes

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konigenblobbity · 10 months

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Request: Deafening Silence

Hobie x Spidey!F!Reader

Request: [Anon] f reader who works at HQ as a tech engineer and is non-verbal due to childhood trauma, her quiet and well-reserved characteristics make her seem invisible, and how physical touch and sign language is how to connect to people. can you also show how Hobi would - by his easy-going nature- connect to her, how his feelings towards her protect her and gives her a safe space to grow.

Tags: Fluff, slightly angsty, protective Hobie, silent Reader

Summary: People often saw your silence as a weakness, a flaw… but Hobie didn’t. He found his own way to connect with you, being able to read you like a book, never pressuring you to change. When he finally overhears people’s rude words, he takes a moment to remind you of your importance.

You’ve never been one for a lot of words, especially with a past of trauma you’ll never be able to forget. So instead, you chose to adapt, turning to simple signs and moments of physical touch in order to convey your thoughts. A lot of people don’t understand it, they get irritated when you don’t respond, and after a while decide to just leave you alone. You’re not sure why Hobie stuck around, but he did.

As usual, Hobie found you at HQ, sitting cross legged in your desk chair making some new tech at your workbench. He smiles as you kick off the desk, gliding your swivel chair across the floor to grab a screwdriver before sliding back to your workbench. “You’re getting quite good at that” he comments and watches as your head turns to see him, lifting your welding mask, a large smile graces your lips.

You stand up and walk over to him, he does the same so the two of you meet in the middle. You embrace him in a tight grasp, feeling him softly caressing your back as you do. “Good to see you again Gizmo” he spoke with a soft chuckle, his tone gentle as he pulls away just enough to look down at you and smile. You smile back up at him and then nod your head once as a friendly greeting.

You then pull away, watching as he places his hands in his pockets. Furrowing your brows you ask him why he’s here… in the form of signs, pointing at him and then pointing at the ground. Having known you for a few months he knows exactly what you mean. He shrugs “Decided to pop in, haven’t had a mission in a bit so I thought I could just hang out here. Is that alright?” You smile and give him a nod.

You walk back over to your chair, sitting down and getting back to your work. He grabs one of the other chairs and slides it near yours, sitting down on it and kicking his feet up to rest on one of your desks. He knew you didn’t really mind, as long as his feet weren’t resting on a keyboard or any of your materials.

Hobie was fully content just sitting there and watching, he even had his guitar on him so he decided to play a little bit here and there. No one really expected you two to become as close as you did, you were an unexpected pair, often inseparable and the only person you really looked forward to seeing was Hobie. You knew that ever since your first interaction, which still makes you laugh.

Hobie walked into HQ with the team, preparing for another mission. As usual, he strayed away a little as he searched his path for any small tech or knick knacks he can steal. He looks around and smiles when he spots a selection of small bits and pieces on a few desks in the main room of HQ. He walks over, surveying all the options of trinkets, with blinking lights or flashing screens.

He reaches out to take a metal sheet with a series of wires on it. Before he can touch it you swat at his hand, causing him to pull it back. He turns his head and spots you, expression indifferent, not even upset with the stranger who just tried to steal from you. Hobie smiles and steps back, turning his body to face you, deciding to lighten up the situation by talking.

“Christ love, caught me red handed” he raises his hands in the air playfully, you simply look at him, giving him a soft smile and shrug. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant but went along with it. “Surprised my spider senses didn’t pick up on ya” he adds, lowering his hands and placing them in his pockets. He watches as you walk over to a work bench, getting slightly nervous at the idea that you were ignoring him because he tried to steal form you.

“Sorry about that though… didn’t know you were there” you turn your head to look over at him, you lift your hand, waving away his apology with a smile. You turn back to your work, expecting him to leave, seeing as no one has ever spent this much time with you here at HQ, usually coming over to ask a single question or try and mess with your tech. That’s why, when he spoke again, even coming over and sitting your workbench, right next to where you were working on some tech… you were shocked.

“Haven’ seen you around before… I’m Hobie” he puts out his hand and after a pause you shake it with a smile. He was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you simply went back to typing at your work. He then notices small writing stitched into your suit ‘Gizmo’.

He smiles, taking a moment to think to himself and gauge what type of person you were, and he came to one clear conclusion… whoever you were, he liked you. He thought you had a unique character to you and couldn’t help but be intrigued. Wanting to learn more about this mysterious spider who he seemingly has never seen before.

Its then that Miguel’s voice rings out from behind you, “HOBIE BROWN! Where are you?!” You notice how Hobie rolls his eyes, making you smile to yourself. He then leans down, playfully nudging your shoulder “Swear I’ll die the day he doesn’ have a stick up his arse” You shake your head but let out a chuckle at his words. He loves the sound of it… he already wanted to hear more of it.

As Miguel calls him again he sighs and stands up off the desk. He pats your shoulder gently and winks before stepping away, backwards so he’s facing you. “I’ll see ya again Gizmo, yeah?” At that promise you give him a short nod combined with a kind smile, he then smiles back and turns around to walk to his meeting.

Hobie’s eyes follow you as you use your chair as a vehicle to get from one desk to another, grabbing bits of metal and wire and then going back to your workbench. You were using a solder and sparks were flying off whatever you were creating.

He stops playing his guitar and speaks. “Whats got my lil innovator working so hard?” You look over at him, then lift your mask. You bring a hand to your ear as a sign for him to repeat himself and he does. “I asked whatcha workin’ on” You smile and wave him over, he pushes himself off the desk, sliding his chair over next to yours. When you stand up he does the same, you then grab the device and smile at him excitedly.

Not yet putting it on, you look at him and circle your fingers around each other in a backwards motion, your sign for ‘before’, he nodded in understanding. You smiled at how he immediately knew what you were saying, then continued the demonstration. You launch a web towards a mannequin, a normal web that just hits it in the chest.

You cut off the web, and circle your fingers around each other again, signing to him ‘after’ and then putting the small wristband like tech around your wrist. Once again you fire a web, but this time, as it hits the mannequin, it sends an electric current through it, even causing the plastic head to combust. Both you and Hobie jump slightly in shock.

Hobie looks at you, smirking at your wide eyes. He nudges you playfully. “Was that supposed to happen?” you blush in slight embarrassment, not looking at him and just signing to him again. You tap the wristband and then shake your hand in a ‘so-so’ motion. He nods slowly “still working out the kinks… guessing it’s just a prototype?” He asks and you nod, seeming a little dejected, you begin fidgeting with the wristband.

Its then that Hobie’s hand enters your vision, softly placing his fingers under your chin, getting you to look at him. You were still blushing, eyes avoiding his own gaze, he knew you probably felt a bit embarrassed that your tech didn’t work perfectly. He wanted to ease your mind, intending to have been playful instead of mocking.

“Its top tier tech Gizmo, once ya figure out how to make it less lethal, I bet everyone’ll be using that on missions” his smile was sincere, genuinely impressed by your talents and innovative tech. You smile at his words but then shake your head, at first he thinks you were telling him you didn’t believe him, but he then watches you sign further.

Your arms cross into an X shape and you then spin your finger in a circle in the air. His brows furrow as he finally understands what you were saying no to. “What do ya mean ‘not everyone?’”, he sits back down on the chair. You take off your tech and place it back on the desk before sitting in your chair as well.

Signing again, you hold your hand out as if you were spray painting and Hobie looks at you with wide eyes “wait… you’re makin’ this for Miles?” to which you nod. He lets out a chuckle and jokingly leans forward “I haven’ seen you working on anything for me… I thought you were my lil innovator”

At his fake pout you just chuckle and roll your eyes, you push his chair away with your foot, causing him to roll back. He slides a bit away before grabbing onto a desk to stop himself, he chuckles at your action and then kicks his feet back up onto the empty desk.

You then look at him and tap your wrist, now he rolls his eyes, putting his hands in the air defensively “I know I know… patience”. You nod and put your soldering mask back down, continuing to work on the tech. After a bit more time, you working while Hobie just talks about what cool features he’d want in his personal tech, you begin to hear voices

A group of spider people walk by, their words muffled in an attempted whisper, although they weren’t actually being that quiet. “Out of everyone he gets to know her?” One says. “It’s not like there’s anything to get to know…” the other remarks. It’s the final spider’s words that hit you most “even if she could speak I bet she’d have nothing important to say” You can feel their eyes on the back of your head, as if their gazes were daggers.

You don’t avert your eyes from your desk, clutching the soldering machine tighter, trying to focus on the sound of the melting metal and flying sparks rather than their piercing voices. You begin fiddling with some exposed wires as an attempt to occupy your mind with something besides their words.

You’ve always been able to ignore them, up until when you got close with Hobie. That was the point people became harsher, more vocal with their criticism… and that’s when you began to care more because not only did you hear them, but so did Hobie.

You couldn’t help but worry that their insults and snarky comments would convince him to leave you alone. That after hearing just how pathetic people thought you were, he’d decide to spend his time somewhere else, with someone less hated and more open and vocal.

Hobie narrows his gaze towards the group that just walked by, his displeasure clear in his scowl. Once they notice his glare, they shut up and rush down the hall. He lets out a sigh, taking his feet off the desk, and leaning his guitar on the desk behind him. In your peripheral vision you can see him standing up, immediately assuming that he was leaving.

You turn, lift your mask, give him a quick smile, and then wave him goodbye. At that action he looks at you confused, brows furrowed and his head tilted as he looks down at you. “I’m not leavin” he says in a tone that reads as if his statement was obvious. Your expression turns to shock, you click your tongue letting out a soft ‘oh’ sound, before turning back to your tech.

Hobie still stood in confusion, taken aback by your action. He moves right next to your chair, squatting down and sitting on his heels. He places his hand on the armrest of your chair to turn it so you face him. You look at him and notice his confused and almost speechless expression, you tilt your head and furrow your brows as a sign of question.

He then finally speaks “did you really think I’d leave because of a few insensitive pricks?” You stay quiet and your gaze moves down to your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your rings. You simply shrug and your lips are a fine line, your whole demeanor acting as if it was obvious that’s what you thought.

Hobie let’s out a sigh, placing his hand on top of yours on your lap, you look back up at him, meeting his gaze. The way his eyes stared into yours was completely new to you, his gaze was caring and soft, but there was a sadness to it. “Well you’re wrong… and so are they” you give him a soft smile, hoping to calm his concerns, but he can still see the unease and hurt in your expression.

He grasps your hands tighter in his own, continuing his small speech. “You don’t need to speak in order for me to understand you. You’ve barely ever said a word to me, and yet out of all the spider people in this HQ, the one I want to talk to the most, is you… my lil innovator” he lifts up one of your hands and kisses the back of it, helping to solidify his words.

You blush at his words and kind action, you nod your head softly. “You promise ya won’t let these pricks get t’you?” He asks, his eyes looking into yours with a serious and stern expression. As a sign of agreement you once again nod your head… but that wasn’t enough for him. He lets go of your hands and raises one of his own, extending his pinky. “Pinky promise me” and you chuckle lightly, but his expression was serious.

Once you raised your pinky and linked it with his he smiled and then gave you a wink “There, it can never be broken” and you just shake your head playfully at his antics. He didn’t mind though, his antics were always an attempt to make you smile, to make you feel better, and the fact that they worked… was always good enough for him.

He stands up and then softly kisses your forehead,“Now… go on and finish Miles’ tech so you can make mine” pulling your welding mask back down when you blush.

#konigenblobbity #fanfiction #fanfic #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie atsv #hobie x reader #Hobie x you #across the spiderverse hobie

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whereireid · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending

PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.

summary: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.

It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.

Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.

“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”

You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.

“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."

Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.

The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.

Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.

Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.

“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.

“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”

“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”

You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."

You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.

Holding something he made.

He stills. “Excuse me?”

The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“

The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.

It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.

You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?

“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”

His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."

Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”

“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”

Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”

You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.

Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.

The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.

“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”

“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.

It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.

Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.

“That’s what I heard, baby.”

You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.

Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”

Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”

It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.

The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.

“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!

“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”

As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.

“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.

"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”

Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.

"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”

Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.

And then you begin to come undone atop of him.

He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.

Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.

But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.

“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”

As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.

He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.

—

What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.

You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.

It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.

It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?

Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.

“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.

You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.

“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”

It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”

“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.

It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.

“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”

Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.

A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.

"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.

"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."

Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."

You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.

"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”

"Steve-"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"

“Steve-“

“Do I make myself clear?”

You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.

He’ll be the bigger person today.

“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”

“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.

“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”

It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.

"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.

You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.

It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.

"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.

When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.

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bonny-kookoo · 28 days

Text

Jungkook

𝐎𝐟𝐟-𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 | 10-24

"We're partners."

Tags/Warnings: Police Officer!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Partners to lovers?, Alternate law-system/made up laws, crime, futuristic, sci-fi, body-modifications?, Fluff, romance, angst, medical themes, injuries

Length: 4.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: the fic was supposed to end with thispart, as there seemed to be no more interest for it, but I decided against it haha

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You know your fate the moment you wake up.

From the apologetic looks of nurses to the sighs then leading doctor keeps making as he checks your reflexes- or lack thereof- you know that you’re done for. How will your life change? Will the carecenter at least be nice to you? How will you adapt?

Is Jungkook going to at least say goodbye to you?

You kind of.. Exist for an entire week in the hospital, not really interested in anything as they prepare you for your next surgery. Bodymods- Paid for by the government due to your outstanding work in the police force. It’s normal, a regular thing, you’ve heard about it all the time and you know somewhat that Jungkook was covered by the same program as you are right now- but Jungkook had had time to adjust. Hybrids, as far as you know, don’t get that time.

Because they take much longer to figure things out.

When you wake up after your surgery, you’re yet again alone. You see no familiar faces, only the nurses who keep trying to cheer you up, and you honestly feel bad for not reciprocating at least a smile every now and then. You feel horrible. Like a failure.

What’s going to happen to you?

It’s the day after your surgery, that something happens. Someone enters your room, and you believe it might be someone who’s been working with Jungkook recently due to his faint scent, maybe having been sent to give you some important notice or something- but when you turn around to look at who’s closing the door, bags rustling in his hand, you’re surprised to find Jungkook himself here.

“I’m sorry I only came now.” He apologizes quietly, putting the plastic bag down before he lets another black backpack slip from his shoulder down to the floor next to your bag. “There was.. Some stuff I had to take care of.” He says, and you nod, quietly.

Of course. He’s got to find a new hybrid now, after all.

“How are you?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed near your legs, watching you. He looks tired- more exhausted than you are right now, clear fatigue on his face as he waits for an answer. You shrug, because that’s all you can offer. You’re physically doing good, surprisingly so according to the doctor who’s overseeing your condition, but mentally, you’re not sure. “You’ll be okay.” Jungkook offers, a hand on your leg feeling weird. You know its there, but its still an odd sensation.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You stare at his hand on your leg, limbs tucked away beneath the blanket you’re sleeping under most of the time. “When will they pick me up?” You ask, and he frowns a bit, obvious sign of confusion on his side, before he realizes what you might be asking about. He shakes his head.

“They won’t.” He denies. “We’re partners, remember?” He offers, and you can’t help but feel your throat clog up and eyes sting as they fill with tears, forcing you to look away.

And then, he moves, gets up before he leans over the bed- hugging you close.

“We’re partners.” He whispers to you, while you can’t help but begin to cry- both in relief and also because he finally makes you feel safe enough to let it all out. “and we’ll stay partners.” He reassures you, hands softly holding you.

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It turns out that the reason Jungkook didn’t visit you for this long, was because he really did have to take care of stuff. That ‘stuff’ not actually being just finding a good place for your physical rehabilitation, but also adjusting his home so you can still somewhat move around freely. Everything is suddenly a lot more.. Open almost, not disconnected from you anymore. It feels like you’re actually supposed to live with him from now on, and not just alongside him any longer.

It’s odd.

Jungkook’s request for official ownership has been sent out despite the fact that he’s technically not yet eligible for it due to you both not having worked together for enough time. But he’s found a potential loophole, has made use of the fact that you got injured on duty and that he himself has to resign soon anyways- so with a bit of luck, and his good writing skills that described your situation and dedication towards your job in the past, he might just get it approved.

He hopes he will. He can’t imagine letting you go.

You’re on heavy medication, similar to how he used to be years ago when he got himself injured enough to require such a surgery. But bringing you back home into a familiar environment surely helped your sleep- your body knocked out on the couch with your legs close to his own. He’s watching TV when he notices them twitching while you dream- nerves still confused and healing as they adjust to the changes and new situation.

He’ll be there every step of the way- figuratively and literally.

Everyone wants to visit you- even Yoongi- but that’s too soon yet. Jungkook fears that it might overwhelm you to have people roaming around already, and also, he kind of wants to be selfish just for a little bit, and use this time to be for you who he’d wanted to be for so long. Not just a coworker- but a friend.

Because you deserve it.

His hand carefully help you turn onto your other side when you wake up itching to move into a new position to nap, and this time, you put your legs over his lap just to see what might happen. And he lets you, accepts them, even makes sure to try and comfort you when they begin to hurt a little later in the day. He doesn’t know if he will get the papers approved, but he also knows he’ll fight for it- so there’s no reason to keep you at an arm’s length anymore.

He can let you in.

Suddenly, you want to move again, whining for him to help once more as he makes sure not to cause you any harm as he helps you adjust your position once more. And as soon as he sits down again, a pillow of yours is slapped onto his lap, boldly so, before you pull yourself even closer, laying your head on his thighs. He’s got no choice but to lay one of his arms over your shoulder now, and you receive it well- even holding onto his hand in your sleep now, as he turns down the volume of the TV just a tad bit more so you can sleep better.

This is heaven to you.

This is who you would’ve loved to be- if your tail was working properly it would be wagging at a constant, heart warm at the way he finally offers so much gentle affection. You love your job- but you also love the idea of this maybe potentially being your future. Just a normal hybrid, nothing to fear, and nothing outstanding to expect from.

Just a normal life.

You turn around somewhat by yourself this time with some help of his to guide your legs, face now hidden in the soft fabric of his sweater, hands still holding his.

And he lets you.

Because, He honestly doesn’t want to let go either.

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Jungkook enjoys life like this- though he could most certainly do without you in a state of hurt and discomfort. The brace you wear currently for both your pelvis injuries and your new mods, so that they can heal properly and that the movement and possible disturbances are reduced to a minimum clearly limits your movement and makes you feel stiff- but its there to make sure you heal properly. You’re fidgety with it, and he knows you’re clearly not comfortable- but it’s necessary.

He’s trying hard to both distract you from it, and help you adjust to your new situation.

“See? You’ll get to swim a lot there.” He tells you, currently showing you the website of the rehabilitation place he chose. “I’ll be there too if you’d like. There’s trained people there too but-”

“I want you to!” You burst out, turning your head to look at him. “I’d.. Like if you’d go there with me.” You say more quiet now, noticing that he might not actually want that. What if he simply feels bad you got injured on a job with him? You never thought of this all potentially just being a fruit from his guilt and nothing more.

But be smiles, and nods, and maybe that’s enough for now.

“Listen..” He starts, closing the tab of the website for now to do something surprising- a gentle hug from where he’s got you sat on his lap, arms around you and chin on your shoulder, careful not to cause you any pain. “..even if it get’s declined, I’ll fight.” He says.

“Fight for what?” You wonder, and he’s quiet for a second, before he speaks again.

“Fight to stay at your side.” He mumbles. “They’re not taking you away from me like that. I know you want to stay, and you should have the right to do so no matter what.” He sighs.

“jungkook..” you start, unsure what to really say. He’s right that you want to stay with him, but does he know why? Your reasoning might not be what he thinks, considering he never really gave you any hint as to how he feels about you. You’ve got a crush on him basically- wouldn’t that make living here together make it unbearable for him? “I’m scared.” You admit.

He turns towards you right away.

“of what?” He worries, not sure what your problem is. Maybe the incident had left you with some more psychological trauma as well?

“..the future.” You say. “I don’t.. I don’t know if living here is such a good idea.” You tell him, and at that he becomes a bit nervous. You don’t know he has some deeper feelings for you. He’s kept it quite secret from you after all- so you don’t know. Right?

“What do you mean?” He asks back, eye contact not as strong as before.

“I don’t think I can.. What if you want to live with someone?” You ask, shrugging. “What if you.. Find someone you like, then what?” You worry.

“I won’t ever like someone as much as you.” He simply sighs, a bit relieved and hopeful he’s interpreting your words correctly. And from the way you look at him full of wonder, he knows he is- which makes him visibly relax now as he watches you. “I think.. As weird as it might sound..” He starts, shrugging as he helps you adjust your position a little, making sure your brace is still properly placed. “I always believed that we meet people for a reason. That I.. that we always got the jobs we did for a reason.” He explains. “From the little girl we found when she ran off a few years back, the veteran we made sure was safe when he was having a flashback, or even that last one.” He sighs. “I think, just maybe, things happen for a reason.”

“I like the idea of that.” You say, leaning into him to rest your head against his shoulder. “It sounds better than.. Having to accept that people are sometimes just plain evil.” You say, and he can pretty much feel you not only physically leaning into him-

But emotionally as well, as you relax in his hold.

“Hey, kook?” You wonder quietly, and hems his answer to you. “can you leave your.. room open, maybe?” You ask, and he nods.

“Of course.” He tells you. “I can also.. sleep in the living room. So you can see me when you keep your room door open- just in case you need something.” He offers, but you fidgety again.

“I kind of.. it’s not for that.” You deny. “just.. if we live together now.. “ you mumble, unsure how to say it, before you take a deep breath and rush it out before you can chicken out again. “I don’t wanna sleep alone anymore!” You say, eyes closed as you wait for the inevitable.

But instead, he just hugs you again, and softly laughs.

“Alright.” He simply agrees. “You could.. also just sleep in my room. My bed is big enough, after all.” He offers, and you turn around to look at him.

“wait- really?” You ask, and he nods.

“Really.” He nods, and at that, you both notice something remarkable happening.

Because despite everything you’ve both been told, and even though it’s very uncoordinated and weak-

Your tail starts to wag again.

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Despite Jungkook not getting proper rest due to you turning and waking up so much during the night, he still enjoys having you so close these days.

You often wake up sore or with pins and needles in your leg- most of the time just one, but sometimes, like tonight, it’s both. He’s tired, but he pushes through that as he helps you get through those tough episodes of your healing process, having given you your medication, before he began running his fingers and hands over your legs like he’s been taught at the hospital to help circulation.

He’s yawning, and so are you just seconds later. It’s a hard time for both of you- but you’ve got each other, and that makes it a lot more manageable.

And right now, after you’ve caught up on some of the lost sleep with a good nap on the couch in the living room, you’re floating in water with Jungkook holding your shoulders so your head doesn’t accidentally dip beneath the surface. He’s listening to the instructor while you do the same, moving your legs a lot more easily this way, as you work up your strength again with the aid of the pool you’re in. And, in a way, it’s also partially a good way to bond with Jungkook- at least in a more personal way compared to before. And you know that it’s more than just friendship- he’s clear in that department, just simply moving it slow, most likely until he knows if he can live with you permanently or not.

Which makes sense. He probably doesn’t want to make you feel worse than you have to if he doesn’t get it approved after all.

Still, you let yourself enjoy this made up dream for as long as it lasts. “You’re adapting a lot faster than other hybrids.” The instructor comments, watching how you kick the water the way he told you to- not very strongly, and a little uncoordinated, but there’s clear control over your legs. “I’m very sure you’ll be just fine by the end of the year.” He says, making you proudly look up at Jungkook, who smiles encouragingly.

You can take as much time as you need- he doesn’t mind one bit.

“I saw you had mods as well?” He asks Jungkook, who nods. “that’s good. A lot of the things you went through will most likely help her too in her recovery.” He informs him, and Jungkook smiles down towards you. “But it’s a good sign that she’s in such high spirit. Usually, hybrids tend to become very shut off and withdrawn, especially former police hybrids. It’s good that she’s got emotional support as well.” He comments, making your tail wag again beneath the water surface.

“well, she deserves it all.” He says, looking down at you with a fond smile-

And you feel like he really means it.

Later, you’re both stopping at a park just to unwind, but you don’t want to really get out of the car at all. The sight of all the people playing around, children running, hybrids having fun, just makes you feel way too melancholic. You’ll most likely never have this again. You’ll never be able to run like that ever again, no matter how hard you try. From now on, you’ll always have to be careful, always have to keep in mind not to overdo it, always have to make sure you’re not pushing any limits you now have.

Jungkook sighs. He’s most likely at a loss on what to do as well- and even if he was to ask you, you’re not sure if you could even tell him what could make you feel better.

“Here.” He suddenly says, catching your attention again as you’re sitting in the open trunk with him, watching the people at the park before you look at the phone he’s showing you. His phone- and there’s a video playing.

It’s him- he has a bit less tattoos clearly, and his hair is a lot longer, pulled back into a tiny little ponytail while he’s holding onto two bars set up at the sides. He’s unsteady, a lot of medical tape covering his back and neck, while he holds onto the bars for dear life, taking step after step in a hardly coordinated way. He’s concentrated, clearly.

“It took me months to take those steps.” Jungkook explains, swiping away into his gallery again to find other videos and images he shows you. “And at first, I really thought ‘that’s it’. I believed I’d have to just resign and accept the fact that I’m going to have to rely on help for the rest of my life.” He tells you, letting you scroll through the videos yourself. “But I got back up. It just took a little time.” He tells you.

“But that was you.” You disagree, giving him his phone back. “What if I can’t do that?” You worry, and he just reaches over to pull you into his side, running his hand up and down your arm in comfort.

“Then I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.” He reassures you. “I’ll be your legs.”

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“Is there a reason you’re carrying her around?” Seokjin asks, watching you sit in the middle of the police headquarter’s training grounds, while Yoongi plays simple tug-of-war with you. Everyone can see that while he doesn’t outright show it, he is a lot gentler than he would usually be.

“She hates the wheelchair.” Jungkook sighs, sitting at the sidelines with his coworker. “And she’s still too weak to use crutches. So I carry her.” He shrugs, making Jin nod.

“Will she even ever walk again?” Taehyung curiously asks, not even aware that the question could hit a nerve for Jungkook- though he takes it lightly.

“She will.” Jungkook says with a final tone to it, shutting every different thought about the situation down. And he also makes it clear that he doesn’t allow any other opinion about it- or at least doesn’t want to hear it. He knows there’s a possibility you might not recover as well as he did, after all, hybrids tend to statistically have a harder time adapting to modifications than humans do. But Jungkook believes in you.

He knows if he doesn’t, you will stop believing in yourself as well.

He hears his name being called instantly and gets up even faster, as if his body reacts earlier than his brain can comprehend what he heard, walking towards you who’s still sitting in the grass outside. “She’s tired.” Yoongi chuckles from the side, leaving the toy in your lap as you hold onto the long bunny.

“I’m not.” You defend yourself. “But I.. do wanna go home for now.” You say, and Jungkook nods.

“Alright then. Up you go.” He jokes, as he positions himself in front of you for you to climb onto his back, so he can carry you out of the building and back into the car that you both take to drive back home. Only once you’re back in your bed is when you finally reveal to Jungkook why exactly you wanted to go home so suddenly.

“..can you maybe give me one of those painkillers?” You wonder quietly, and Jungkook nods, fetching your medication for you together with a bottle of water.

“I had them with me, you know?” He says as you take them, clearly in pain by now from the way you seem so stiff in your movements. “It’s not bad at all to admit when you’re hurting.”

“I know..” You mumble defeated. “I didn’t want Yoongi to feel bad or something. I had fun.” You say, and Jungkook smiles.

“I’m glad you did. But don’t overdo it.” He teasingly scolds, putting your water to the side for now. “You wanna nap alone, or should I stay?” He asks, and you look up at him hopefully. “Alright alright.” He laughs, easily able to interpret your subtle body language into proper answers by now. You instantly cling to him, bolder than ever before, and he’s a little suspicious about it. “You’re pretty cuddly today.” He comments, and you nod.

“Shouldn’t I be?” You wonder. “Do you not like that?” You ask, and he immediately denies that claim right away.

“No, I love it. It’s just sudden, that’s all.” He shrugs off, helping you adjust your position a little to lay even closer to him.

“I just don’t want to.. waste time. You know. If we do end up being unable to live together.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t want to.. have to regret not using my time with you good enough, you know?” You explain, and he nods.

He understands this. After all, your words hold a lot of true meaning in them.

But for now, you both can pretend. That nothing is wrong, that you’re just two people, that you have all the time in the world.

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“I came as fast as I could. What’s wrong?” Jungkook worries, having left you at your physical therapy place for now when he’d gotten the text from Seokjin, who made sure to emphasize how urgently jungkook was needed.

“You might want to read this.” Seokjin says, handing him a letter that the younger officer opens to unfold it, and read what it’s about.

He has to sit down.

Letting it all sink in, Jungkook just sits in silence for a good moment, as he sets the letter down on the small plastic table that he sits at. “Yoongi is actually pretty upset over it.” Seokjin admits. “That’s why he’s not here today. He just doesn’t want to hear any of it.”

Yoongi has had a bit of a tough time bonding with you at first, as far as Jungkook knows. Yet over the course of time, you two had bonded very closely, like two pups of the same litter so to speak. He’d watched over you, had always made sure you’d feel included and valued even when you struggled at first to really find your place. And when you were paired with Jungkook, and that whole fiasco went down, Yoongi had been there too- to make sure you know that everything’s going to be alright.

And now, that all ends. Not right away- but it will.

Later, as he brings you home, he’s not sure how to really break those news to you. He doesn’t know how you’ll react to it, what you think about it- but he also knows that you’re already aware that something’s off about his behaviour. You’ve been trained to sniff out such things after all.

And you’ve always been damn good at your job.

You finished eating your dinner, when Jungkook presents the letter to you- having you read it, and make up your own mind about the contents of it. “I don’t.. Really understand.” You admit, giving the letter back to him. “What does that mean?” You ask with worry- which he understands fully. It is also worded quite complicated, so he doesn’t blame you for having trouble interpreting it all.

“Remember how I filed in for official ownership?” He asks, and you nod. “Well, it neither got denied, nor approved, basically.” At that, you tilt your head a little, confused. “Once you’re rehabilitated enough to return to basic service, we will basically resume our jobs until I fulfilled my time before retirement.” He explains, as you listen. “And then, they’ll transfer me to you, basically.”

“So, right now, I’m still belonging to the.. Police?” You wonder, still not quite getting it.

“No. Right now, you’re fully under my care, until you’re healed enough to get back to work. At least for regular patrol.” He tries again to make it even simpler to understand. “Once you do, we both resume work, until I have fulfilled enough time to retire since my mods prevent me from continuing service.” Jungkook says. “Right now, we’re basically on pause. Once we’re back in service, we work together until I retire together with you. And you’re automatically transferred under my name.”

“So.. Right now, we’re just.. Making sure I heal, and then we just get back to work? Until we both retire again in a year?” You ask, and he laughs, nodding.

“Essentially, yeah. It’s pretty complicated, but I guess it’s protocol.” He laughs.

“But that means.. We can’t be together anymore. Until we retire.” You worry.

“Not really. We can still be together, openly, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work. You’ll have to take a test basically, and when you pass it, we’re good to go.” He explains.

“So.. I’m not useless?” You ask, and Jungkook’s face instantly falls.

“What? You were never useless, what do you mean?” He worries, pulling you closer to hug you. “What made you think that?”

“Because I can’t even walk right now. I can’t do anything.” You huff, clearly still upset with yourself.

“You can. And you’ll get better soon, promise.” He says. “They already praise you for your quick progress. They don’t just lie and say that to everyone, trust me!” He reassures you, while you cling closer to him. “For now, lets just enjoy the time we have. This isn’t a final decision yet, so there might even be a chance they decide otherwise and just let go of the year missing entirely.” He tells you, as you sigh.

“But we’ll stay together?” You ask, and he nods, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours with a smile.

“We’ll stay together.” He tells you.

“We’re partners after all.”

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