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kentopedia · 1 year

Note

hi! i just found your account and WOAH you’re so so talented!! i loved your sleepy cuddles with dazai and i wanted to request sleepy cuddles with chuuya maybe?🫶🫶 sorry about the red text, it suddenly changed my normal text to black on a black background so i cant see what i write unless i change the color 😫

sleepy cuddles w/ chuuya

*:･☆— wc: 1.6k *:･☆ chuuya nakahara x gn!reader

You heard the soft and steady thrum of music coming from the other side of the threshold as you unlocked the door to your apartment, releasing all of the tension in your shoulders. It was a Saturday night, and you’d been away from home for almost a week, low on sleep and energy. You felt like you were one step away from falling to the floor and sleeping in the middle of the hallway.

It was just after midnight. You’d had a hotel room booked for the night, but when your job finished this morning, you’d hopped on the earliest train back to Yokohama, desperate to be back home.

The scent of freshly burned candles instantly washed over you, and the further you stepped into the apartment, you realized the only source of light was coming from the waxy flames. The curtains had been drawn closed, though a sliver of moonlight filtered through the cracks, shimmering over your couch like a beacon.

You dropped your bag on the floor, throwing your keys onto the side table. “Chuuya?” He was definitely home. It was cool in the apartment—he always turned it down much colder than you preferred. “I’m home.”

You waited, and after a moment, received no response. The relaxing piano filtered down the hall; it was likely too loud in the other room. He wouldn’t be able to hear you.

Tiredly, you kicked your shoes off, slumping down on the sofa as you indulged in the classical music.

The tune lulled you into relaxation, and you closed your eyes, feeling beautifully soothed. In your wearied state, you couldn’t help but drift off to sleep, falling into a dream as you let your body sink deeper and deeper into the couch cushions.

Minutes later—though it had felt a lot longer than that in your exhausted state—you were shaken awake, a gentle voice calling your name.

“Hm?” you blinked your eyes open, wondering how you could’ve fallen so quickly into a deep sleep. “Chuuya?”

“What are you doing sleeping out here?” he asked with a quiet laugh, tracing your cheek with nothing but his fingertips. “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

You yawned, snuggling deeper into the sofa. His hand was warm against your skin, and you leaned into it, threading your fingers with his own. “I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to come home.”

Chuuya’s smile widened, his teeth showing through. “You should’ve called me.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” Never before had it felt so impossible to keep your eyes open, even as Chuuya bent down to kiss you on the forehead, dragging his mouth down the bridge of your nose until it was ghosting over your own lips. “Now I’m too tired.”

He laughed, the sound warm and so much like home. Hair tumbled over his shoulder, tickling your face as he bent over you. “I can see that.” He tugged your arm, trying to pull you to your feet, though you were dead weight, glued to the couch. You fought against him, grunting out a sound of displeasure.

“I don’t want to get up,” you said, but Chuuya still managed to pull you into a seated position as he stood, straightening his back. You fell forward and rested your cheek against his hip, the sharp bone poking into the thin skin around your jaw. He smelled clean, and the aroma of soap was freshly scrubbed into him. Chuuya must’ve been in the shower when you’d arrived. “Too tired.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You can’t be comfortable in those clothes.” He ignored your protests, scooping you up off the couch like you weighed nothing, and carried you back into the bathroom.

You closed your eyes, barely processing the action of being held above ground, everything experienced through the haze that came with days of minimal sleep. You weren’t sure how much of your weight was held up by his own strength, or if it was his ability assisting him.

Chuuya’s t-shirt was soft against your cheek, and you could hear the steady thump of his heart through the ribcage, just inches below your ear. You smiled to yourself, caught in a sleep-deprived state.

He turned a lamp on, sitting you on the bed as you gazed after him with half-closed eyes.

“Love you.” The words were saccharine, dripping from your tongue with the sickness of adoration.

He was, briefly, caught off guard as he sorted through your dresser for a fresh change of clothes. Though you had said it to him more than enough times, he always froze like it was the first, the smile only slowly appearing. His eyes morphed into the shape of hearts, every line in his face softening. “I love you too. I’m glad you got home safe.”

Chuuya came back over to you with the clothes in his hand and took his time gently peeling your dirty shirt from your skin. As carefully as he could, he swapped the clothes you had traveled in for pajamas, and you stared back at him sleepily, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky. Before he finished his task, he made sure to rub in your favorite lotion, massaging the muscles that had grown tight and sore from the assignment.

Finally, he scratched his fingers into your scalp, and you relaxed, slumping back onto the bed. Just as you thought you were going to get to drift off into another peaceful sleep, Chuuya had shoved you back to your feet disgracefully.

“Chuuya,” you whined as he tugged you into the bathroom with determination. “I want to sleep.”

“You’ll be mad at me in the morning if I let you do that.” He rubbed small circles into your wrist as you stumbled after him, feeling like you weren’t attached to your feet at all. Though the light was dimmed, it still felt like a bright fluorescent against your retinas.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the counter.

You sighed loudly, making sure he knew exactly how much of an inconvenience this all was. Still, you did what he asked of you.

As you watched with drooping eyes, Chuuya gathered the products for your nightly routine, omitting the ones he knew you wouldn’t mind missing for a day. Then, he gently scrubbed your face, running a cloth over your skin before getting all of the soap completely off.

“I feel like a baby.” You leaned back against the mirror, but even with your comment, you didn’t protest when Chuuya massaged moisturizer into your skin, taking care of you with focused eyes. His cool, slender fingers felt nice against the tension of your jaw.

“Do it yourself, then.” He stopped, momentarily, before laughing quietly.

With your eyes closed, you poked your tongue out at him. “Don’t want to.”

“Yeah.” Chuuya leaned forward to press his lips against your own, the hint of wine lingering on there as usual. He pulled away much too soon, leaving you trailing after him without a conscious thought. “That’s what I thought. You just relax and look pretty for me, okay? Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Despite your annoyance, you smiled, feeling much too pampered, even when he shoved a toothbrush into your mouth, scraping each crevice with practiced care, poking your cheek in amusement. You spit the minty taste out to rinse your mouth, finally slumping your head against Chuuya’s shoulder. Drained, you closed your eyes and yawned heavily, looking forward to a good night’s rest more than anything.

“Can I go to sleep now?” you asked, and his body shook with laughter, fingers dancing patterns across your spine.

“Sure, baby. Come on.”

Once more, he pulled you to your feet, but you went with ease, knowing that there would finally be some relief at the end of it all. The bed was a welcoming haven, the mattress softer than you’d remembered. The pillow felt like a cloud when you finally closed your eyes, humming out a great sigh as you settled down.

Chuuya made his way across the room and finished getting ready for bed before finally turning off all the lights and blowing out the candles. Somehow, you’d managed to stay awake until he’d crawled into the bed, sneaking up behind you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his usually warm body. He pressed a kiss into your spine, squeezing you against him.

“Well at least you’re being sweet about it now.” He groaned, but you could hear the underlying humor in his voice, knew he was only joking as he snuck two fingers under your shirt, rubbing circles into your side. “I just wanted to help, and all you did was complain.”

“I wanted to go to sleep,” you explained, and he snorted, snaking a knee between your thighs.

“Right,” he scoffed. “If you’re so tired, then why are you still talking to me?”

You only groaned, pinching his arm to keep him from making any more comments. “I was waiting for you." You dialed up the charm in your voice, silky with sleep. "I missed you, was all."

Though he huffed, he buried his face into your back, breathing you in quietly. "I missed you too."

Chuuya kissed your shoulder before turning you on your other side, facing him. His features were barely discernible in the dark room, though his lips brushed the tip of your nose, his breath warm against your cheeks.

You smiled, shutting your eyes once more as you settled against his chest, holding his hand loosely under blanket. Another yawn escaped you, and you let it go without a care, feeling the edges of a dream take over you.

author's note: thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy! no need to apologize about the text. i feel like that's been happening to a lot of ppl for some reason!

dazai version here!!

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spliffymae · 1 year

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let u decide, rintarō suna

synopsis: some days you loved him, others you wish you never met him. some days he hated the fact you were simply breathing, other days he wanted to be against your chest, listening to your heartbeat. he’s your ex—your ex friend, your ex fling, your ex boyfriend. you should be moving on! so why are you still with him?

⚠️mentions of drug use, swearing, exboyfriend!suna, plug!suna, on/off again relationship, arguing, guilt tripping, gaslighting, inconclusive ending.

kio’s notes - here’s my intro to the haikyuu fic world! also the ending is intended to be the way it is. the goal is to have you (the reader aka y/n) to determine their fate w suna. y’all gonna continue the cycle or break it?

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

it was one of those nights again. where the weather was chilly, winds blowing any which way. the sky was painted a midnight blue, with purplish clouds. you were sitting in your room, face in your plush penguin as you listened to a video lecture. you were doing homework, struggling to even care about the subject at hand.

if it wasn’t a requirement for your major, you would have never even stepped foot in the classroom. because what fresh hell is this?

anyways—

you were listening to your professor give an example of some term he just said, you don’t know. you had tapped out and were now just waiting for the motivation to hit you again. but that atten got pulled away the minute your phone vibrated from beside your computer. you got a text.

rō🔌🖤🏐

i’m outside.

you furrowed your brows at the message. you now were up from your bed, in front of your window to look down into your complex’s parking lot. low and behold, in the spot reserved for your apartment was suna’s matte black bmw xm.

you let out a deep sigh before turning to your laptop and pushing your finger on the space key to pause the video. thankfully you weren’t in your typical loungewear of shorts and an oversized shirt, but rather black yoga pants and a black hoodie. it was a different level of chili today, so your feet being in warm fuzzy socks were fine outside in the cold. great for you, since the only shoes you could slip them into were your beige crocs.

when you locked up your house, you quickly jogged down the stairs and to his car, wanting to get whatever it was he wanted over.

what was once suna stopping by whenever and coming up to your front door was now you meeting him at his car like his other clients.

you walked to his window, tapping your nail against it to pull his attention from his phone. when he looked up at you, he gave you a lazy smile. he gestured for you to go around and come in, which made you raise your brows. he normally would just roll down his window and hand you the sandwich bag with your weed in it.

you give him the same look you gave him from upstairs and he just chuckled in response, signaling for you to go around once more. because he knew you’d listen.

and when you sat in the passenger seat with your back pressed against the door with an irritated look on your face, he still kept the smirk on his face. “happy to see me?”

“i was doing homework.” you intended to make him feel bad for disturbing your studies. after all, as a fellow scholarship student, suna should know how important it is to be consistent in one’s studies. however, because suna also knew you, he knew you were completely and utterly bullshitting.

“righttt, anyways i got your stuff.” he leaned over to your side of the car, pushing the button to open his glove compartment. he was close, his upper body stretching over your legs to retrieve whatever.

“i didn’t order anything from you. i still have from—.” but you were cut off when you saw a bag with ten, thick and tightly rolled spliffs.

suna smiled, “sure? swore i saw sum on your twitter today about ‘needin’ a blunt and a booty rub?” he quirked up a brow, his fox eyes shining with mischief.

you rolled your eyes with a scoff, “it was a retweet. and it was addressed to no one in particular, nosey ass.” he didn’t pay the name any mind. he never did when you would mock him. he instead just nodded, chuckling at how quick your defense came.

“uh huh, well here. figure you’re almost out of the other one i gave you.” he pushed the bag to you, dropping it on your lap. the smell was potent, each spliff had to have maybe two to four grams worth inside.

you pulled out your phone from you pants pocket, using your face id to open it, “how much you want for it? i just paid rent so if it’s anything more than a bill, ima have to hand it back.” you went to your messages with him tapping on your apple pay.

“i just want you to smoke one with me. no money.” he leaned his head back against the headrest, looking at you with tired but hopeful eyes.

it sounded like a simple request, but you know what came with it. the flirtatious banter and innuendos. circling around the topic of your relationship but never diving in. the stories of all the demons he’s been fighting. how he wishes you would come back to him.

you were his person after all. no one understood suna quite like you. you had a lifetime-lasting ticket to suna. from who he was to what he liked, his coping mechanisms, his defense ones; his favorite things, his most hated moments…you knew him probably better than he knew himself.

but you should tell him no. you should thank him for the offer but push the bag back into his possession. you should decline and leave the car. leave and break the cycle you found yourself in. this toxic reconciliation cycle.

but he was right. you were almost out, and you were planning to text him for a re-up anyways. and his car was really warm in comparison to outside. why waste a few moments of warming up?

after all, suna was always there when you needed him, weed-related needs aside. like when you had missed the bus and was running late to class (one you had to go to because there was an in-class assignment), you called suna and in five minutes he arrived to your apartment to take you to class. and he even waited until you finished to treat you to ice cream. he was also your go-to whenever you were sad—or even when you wanted to share good news with somebody.

so because of this, it was easy for you to relax back in the car seat, pulling one of the spliffs out of the bag with a huff. “you have a light?” you ask him with your hand out towards him, opened and waiting for him to put whatever bic lighter he had in his cup holder in your hand.

suna instead plucked the spliff from your fingers, and when he noticed your irritated face, he shrugged, “whoever rolls lights first. otherwise it’s bad luck for ‘em. you want me to have bad luck, yeah?” he had a smirk, taunting you with glimmer in his eyes and wiggling brows.

you would normally be playful back, usually biting the bullet and letting suna’s stupid jokes win you over. however, this time wasn’t like the other times.

you were really mad at him.

he had been seen around campus with like three different girls, all under his arm with hearts in their eyes looking at him. yes, you two were no longer together, but you still had a habit of being jealous whenever you saw or heard of new women in suna’s life.

and then on your way home today, as you passed by the usual coffee shop that was in between your college and your home, you saw through the window none other than suna, holding hands with a woman you didn’t know, but knew you hated. their hands were on the table, his thumb rubbing the back of hers and staring intently into her eyes. you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but by the way the girl tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down to avoid suna’s gaze, you could tell what type of conversation they were having.

“yes.” you said quietly, just as he slapped a lighter into your hand. he wasn’t thinking that you’d respond, let alone actually answering the question. but when he heard it, he looked up with his brows furrowed.

“now that’s just mean, sunshine. y’know you oughta be nicer to me. i’m a sensitive soul, remember.” he said with a pout and hand to his heart.

you rolled your eyes, “whatever suna.” you glanced down at the lighter in your hand. it was a gold zippo lighter. engraved on it was ‘if my soul was a spliff, you’d be like… the flame to it.’ —something you had said to him when you two were together, cuddled up in bed and off some pot brownies you bought from osamu.

“y’know,” you started, low eyes watching the screen before you as you lied on suna’s chest, arms wrapped around him. he was sitting up in the bed, running his finger back and forth on your arm. he put on bobs burgers, the two of you really wanting it for more background noise then entertainment.

“if my soul was a spliff, you’d be like…the flame to it.” your face was pressed against his chest so your words were a bit muffled, but he heard you and immediately cracked up in fits of laughter.

“no more edibles for you, sunshine.” he said with a giggle, secretly loving what you said. his cheeks started to get warm, and he was happy you weren’t focused on his face so you couldn’t see him. but he didn’t realize you could hear his heartbeat pick up.

“you still have this?” you asked him, looking at the engraved words, rubbing a finger over them. you gifted the lighter to him as a spontaneous and romantic gift. because of his…line of work, suna was always showering you with gifts. if he was out and saw something that reminded him of you? he got it. saw you glancing just a little too much at something in a store window? it’s yours in the next five minutes.

so how do you top a lot of small gifts? with one big, meaningful, romantic gift. and it just so happened to be an engraved lighter with the first time you ever told him what he meant to you.

suna shrugged, putting the spliff between his lips. “some chick told me refillable is to show how our love will never end. thought she was a sappy thing, that one.” he said. when he watched the way your face dropped at his choice of words, he laughed.

“but i think she was onto something.” he took your wrist, bringing it to him so you could light his spliff. you flicked open the top and did as he wanted, watching the cherry form at the end of the spliff. suna always rolled the spliff around the flame, burning it evenly to avoid it canoeing.

he looked at you through his lashes as you lit the spliff, his honey colored, fox eyes glowing with the help of the flame. your eyes looked to his for a moment, and when you met his gaze, you felt a rush through your body.

when it was good, you moved back quickly, closing the lighter but still keeping it in your hand. you squeezed it, a lame way to channel whatever feeling entered your body. it was either squeezing the lighter or your thighs, and lord only knows the ego suna would get if he caught that.

you cleared your throat, “she might’ve just been dumb and in love.” you mumbled as a response. it wasn’t like your rebuttal wasn’t true. when it had come down to it, you were an honors student with a 3.4 gpa. you were going to go in your future career as a dominating force, immovable. so why the hell was your brain so empty when it came to suna? why was it so easy for him to takeover your world?

“you think it was dumb?”

“i think it was unrealistic. love can end.” you didn’t make eye contact with him. you just stared at the lighter.

suna shook his head and clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “not ours, y/n. we’re too strong to end.” he passed you the spliff, blowing the smoke he inhaled out. you accepted it and took a long pull, feeling the smoke fill your chest.

when you exhaled, a scoff followed after, “you didn’t seem to think that when you had all those women under you on campus, though. you’ve curated quite the fan club from what i’ve seen.”

“your jealousy is flattering, sunshine. but i only have eyes for you.” suna didn’t take you seriously, he never did when you got jealous.

this time, you forced a laugh in response. “ha! there’s no way you’re saying that to me after i literally saw you with another girl at what used to be our place. starin’ at the bitch like she was all that.” you took one last pull before handing the spliff back to him. you folded your arms, sucking your teeth with a pout. “i’m not blind, suna.” you finished, letting him know that you will be addressing what you saw today.

suna was never one for confrontation—honestly, his reasoning was simply because he never cared enough to. but then he met you, and his entire self flipped on its axis. before, when faced with a situation suna didn’t let it stress him past the moment. you hated how nonchalant he was, but he told you it was just his nature.

but you were everything against suna’s nature. you weren’t nonchalant, you weren’t the calm and reasonable type. when you got angry you would see red and your mouth would grow hot with insults for whoever pissed you off and then some. and soon enough, some of your short-tempered ways transferred to suna. he never got to the ‘seeing red’ level, but it was fair to say he would be on the borderline every now and again.

before, when you’d bring up any problems you had about suna, he would be with folded arms and a straight face, either sitting or standing. he wouldn’t egg you on or snap at you, rather he would just take a deep breath and take full accountability, apologizing and moving on.

but now? ohhh! say something to him. no, really—suna wants you to try him. he wants nothing more than for you to keep the rather bitter and hostile energy you had towards him so that he could take it and give it back to you.

suna rolled his eyes in response, “and i’m not deaf y/n. so give me a break! as if you’re innocent? like i don’t hear how atsumu stays calling you names like ‘sweatheart’ and ‘baby’ whenever you’re in his radius? or how he can’t shut up in the locker room about how cute you looked? you’re throwing stones from a glass house, y/n.” his tone was condescending, talking down to you almost.

“oh! and let’s not forget how every fuckin’ time we face his school, you think kai is a goddamn comedian. all giggly and ‘kaiii stop’.” he imitated the way you would be around kai, how you would playfully push him away with giggles leaving your lips when kai would ask when you would stop playing and let him take you out.

you huffed, “that’s not the same as all these bitches being under you! do you see me cuddled up w tsumu? or holding hands on a date with kai?!”

despite the two of you in a heated argument, you continued to share the spliff properly. following the instruction, “puff puff pass” and handing it off when the other needed it. you both were annoyed that you had to go into a high mad at each other, but you couldn’t help it.

“we’re not together anymore, y/n! you have no right to be jealous when all i’m doing is living my life! if i wanna go on a date then ima go on a date. if i wanna walk around campus with some girl then i’ll do that. you just said our love isn’t strong, but now i can’t move on? make that make sense…”

you pushed your lips out, nodding at his words. not because you agreed, but because you were going to be on some petty shit (since that’s obviously what he wanted to do). “ight.” you simply said, taking the spliff from him while at the same time opening your phone.

the car grew quiet after that, you didn’t leave, and suna didn’t say anything more. he simply watched as you tapped away on your phone with one hand while you smoked with the other.

you soon handed him back the spliff, only glancing at him to see if he’d take it. he did, but there was no doubt he did with hesitation, wondering what you were thinking. he decided to just shelf it, maybe let the moment settle and apologize for his outburst.

but all that went flying out the window when he heard the voice of kai nobuyuki come from your phone.

“baby, just text me whenever you’re ready and i’ll come get you. i gotta see you in that lil’ teal number. you’re killing me here.”

and suna finally saw red.

he snatched your phone from your hand, giving you no time to process what happened until he was out the car, reading through your messages with kai.

“what the hell is he texting you at midnight for?” suna asked as he scrolled up to a conversation you and kai had a last night. “ ‘that picture of you has been doing something to me’ ?? what fucking picture did you send him, huh?!” he tried to scroll up to find it, but it was gone, all he saw was the message you sent along with it,

y/n

do you like it? 🥹i thought of you when i bought it

“suna what the fuck!” you climbed out the car, walking around to grab your phone from him. but suna was a step ahead of you, running to the other side as you came around. “you just told me i don’t have the right to be jealous. hypocrite!”

suna didn’t respond to you, not when he was too focused on going to your photos to find the date of the conversation, hoping to find the photo. your camera roll was filled with memes and pictures of you, some goofy ones you took to send to your friends group chat, some aesthetically pleasing ones for your social media, and just random ones. one suna wanted to make his lockscreen because he missed turning on his phone and seeing your face.

when he found the date that matched with your message, there was a picture of you standing in a store, taking a mirror selfie. you were wearing a black skirt, converse and a white nike crewneck; your bum length braids were tied half up half down as you snapped the picture, glossed lips puckered and fingers up in a peace sign.

it should be a normal picture, one suna should’ve just glanced over. but what caught his attention was the store you were in. it was your favorite place to shop, and you were standing in the lingerie section of the establishment.

“so we buyin’ lingerie for other people now? are you out of your mind?!” he yelled. he swiped, and there was a picture taken from your room. you were bending facing the phone, the shot only capturing your pouty lips and figure in the black lace lingerie set. your cleavage was on full display, with your hand cupping you right breast, french tip acrylics contrasting with the black lace.

he swiped again. you were in a teal, babydoll nightgown, posing with your back to the mirror as you ever so slightly lifted up one side of the dress, showcasing just a peek of your ass. it was enough to get his dick to twitch, and if it did that to him, he could only imagine what seeing you like this did to kai. suna was fuming. this had to have been the photo kai got.

a dark chuckle left suna’s lips, one that surprised both you and him. you hadn’t heard something like this come from him. usually when he was mad he would disassociate himself from the situation, but he wasn’t just mad this time.

he was downright pissed!

“rintarō, you said it yourself we’re done—.”

“because it’s what you wanted me to say. just like how you said our love isn’t forever and that it was dumb and unrealistic. that’s what you said! so of course i’m not going to oppose.”

“and you taking my phone is showing me…that i’m wrong?” you asked with a quizzical look, taunting him. “because this just seems to me like i’m right. like you said, we can move on. since that’s what you wanna do then let me do it.”

suna felt like he was losing his mind, “are you dumb?” he asked, getting you to blink in confusion. “like have you actually smoked your last brain cell? i don’t want to move on, y/n! why the hell do you think i still come here? i still sell to you?” he stepped closer to you. “every fucking time i try there you are. stupid eyes just calling me back, every. damn. time. i try another girl, i end up seeing you. i want to fuck on someone new? my dick can’t get up unless it’s to you. i physically cannot move on. ”

you immediately rolled your eyes. suna had played this game one too many times with you. went on a whole ramble about how you plagued his mind when you two weren’t together. at first you bought it. the second time too because he laid it on thick. but now? you were immune.

fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me…

“am i supposed to believe that? like i didn’t see what i saw today? because it physically looked like you were capable of moving on to me.”

“and what you’re not?” suna was practically spoon feeding you the attitude you were giving him. “because kai would attest to that.” he waved your phone in your face, still opened on the messages with you and kai. you tried to reach for it, but suna was taller than you by a decent amount so he simply raised his hand, stopping you from getting it. you glared at him. neither of you said anything. you just stared at one another in angry silence.

this always happens! every couple months or so, you and suna part ways and do what is a poor attempt at moving on. it never works out though—maybe will last a month at most, but always ends up with one of you in the other’s bedroom, taking hits of his dab pen and cuddled up, back together once again.

it was like you two had built-in magnets for each other. no matter how far you tried to go, no matter how big a gap suna would put between you two, you would always come back to one another.

so would this time be any different?

#🌞🍃spliffymae #hq(／_^)／ ● ⊥#suna x black reader #suna rintaro x black reader #suna rintaro x black y/n #suna rintarō #i will mention smoking a lot #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu x black reader #angst #anime x black!reader #plug suna #toxic suna #toxic reader

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mrskittythulhu · 3 years

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blue flames and red feathers (2)

part1 part2 part3

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(18+) Dabi + Hawks + (y/n) fem

Shifting from foot to foot on the sidewalk outside your apartment you waited for your coworkers to arrive. You spent hours shuffling from outfit to outfit until you ran out of time and settled on a blue skater dress. You didn’t care much for the heals but they matched. You knew that if you wore them your feet would be killing you later, but the lack of other options forced you to wear them tonight.

The drive to the club was lively with the radio blaring. You almost wanted to insist that they come back another night when you noticed the long line of patrons wanting to enter the club. To your dismay one of the girls said she was a friend of someone who worked for Endeavor’s agency and got his rejected club passes. Hawks had told you before that many businesses send freebees to top heroes in hope of them coming. It was a strange type of marketing ploy.

After you each flashed your IDs to the bouncer you made it inside the loud thumping smoke-filled club. Bright lasers filled the dark space and low lights illuminated the bar and seating areas. You watched as your coworkers quickly flocked the bar grabbing shot glasses while you awkwardly maneuvered through the crowds. By the time you regrouped the boisterous group of girls were slamming their second shot glass.

Barely able to hear what the girls next to you were saying it was just easier to smile and nod at the conversation. Swiftly a couple of the girls from the group broke off to the dance floor. Wasn’t long before they were no long dancing with each other but dancing with strange men.

“Here drink this.” One of your coworkers nudged you for your attention handing you a swirling blue liquid inside a small glass cup. With a tight smile on your face, you thanked her. You knew you needed to loosen up the awkward tension was thick. Not wanting to be a wet blanket you drank down the glass. The burn of the alcohol caused you to let out strained coughs. When you regained yourself, you looked around see that your party had fully disbursed leaving you alone at the bar.

With wobbly feet you walked towards the restrooms in hope to text Hawks that you were not having a good time and wanting him to pick you up. Hopefully he wasn’t busy working far away. Between the uncomfortable shoes and the strange alcohol hitting your system each step became harder and harder. As you nearly fell over strong arms wrapped around your mid-section pulling you back into a hard chest. The thump of your body colliding with their then them colliding with a wall knocked you dizzy for a moment.

“Where are you off to little slut?” A deep voice whispered in your ear. A chill ran up your spine as you knew you could never forget the sound of HIS voice. You felt the scratch of metal on the back of your leg as his hand ran up your thigh. He was under your running a finger under your panties at your hip. His fingers felt hot against your soft skin.

“Are you off to fuck another villain in the bathroom?” Dabi was enjoying how your heartrate and breathing started to pick up. Your heavy panting causing your breasts to rise and fall. “That’s right you’re into heroes again. Guess you must be over that bad boy phase already.” Panic filled you from him knowing something so personal. You started to squirm away, but he gripped his free arm over you like a seatbelt leaving his hand light placed over your neck. He started to shush you while the hand under your dress was placed over your clothed core. His fingers pushing the fabric between your folds to soke up your moistier.

“Please Dabi let me go.” You sucked in your bottom lip as you let out a throatily moan from his touch. “I promise I wont tell anyone I saw you here. I just want to go home.” His nose was running along your ear, so you were able to hear him moan as if he was thinking over your words despite the loud music. “Please.” You begged with the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Alright.” His grip on your neck tightened but his large hands didn’t put pressure on your airway. “But I will be seeing you real soon (y/n).” The hand under your dress gave a squeeze of your womanhood and you jumped from the sensation. “Real soon.” He left a chase kiss at the back of your cheek near your ear. As quickly as his hands were on you, they were gone.

You spun around losing your balance in the process to see where he had gone but there was only a wall. With more urgency you made your way into the restroom. You frantically pulled out your phone but no answer from Hawks. After a deep calming breath, you texted him. If it wasn’t for autocorrect none of your rapid-fire messages would have been legible. Despite you promise deep down it would have been foolish not to tell your high-ranking hero boyfriend that a top villain was at the club. Taking a seat on the countertop you downloaded a ride share app quickly typed in your info and waited for the notification that your ride was here to get you.

“Shit.” For the second time you dropped your apartment keys to the floor. Your mind was still uneasy after your run in with Dabi. You didn’t even bother to tell anyone you had gone home. Only hiding in the bathroom like a scared child until your ride showed.

You had convinced yourself that the reason he was after you was to kill you. He knew you had told the police about him and wanted to tie up loose ends. This panic left you trembling. You took both your hands wrapped them around your keys and slowly managed to open your apartment door. A stray tear left your eye at the small victory. Rushing inside you slammed the door shut and locked it quickly. You peeked out the spy hole like a mad woman only letting out a deep sigh when you noticed the hallway was still empty.

Flicking on the living room light you only felt slightly safer in the walls of your apartment. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went into your bedroom. Telling yourself that after a relaxing shower and good night sleep you would feel better. Chugging half the bottle down you felt the cool water chill your racing body. With quick movements pulled your skater dress over your head and tossed it into the hamper.

In the mirror you noticed the large wet spot on your panties from when Dabi had touched you. Slowly you moved a towards your lower half, but you stopped suddenly. In the corner of your eye, you noticed movement in the mirror’s reflection coming from behind you. As you looked over your eyes wide with fear as bright blue eyes stared back at you.

Dabi was leaning with his arms folded over his chest on your bathroom door frame. You spun around nearly loosing balance from your heals. The palms of your hands gripped the top of your dresser keeping you from falling over.

“W-wha..” Your frantic words trailed off.

“I told you I would see you soon.” He started to take long strides over to you.

“Ho- How did you get in here.” He didn’t answer with words only a blank expression and a shrug of his shoulders. Before you could ask another question, he was towering over you. Your eyes stayed locked with his fear kept you trapped in place. You knew what this man was capable of and images of your tragic end on the evening news filled your mind.

“A-are you here to kill me?” A sly smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He placed his hands on the dresser behind you trapping you in place. He leaned his face closer to yours with a hum in his throat. His nose lightly brushed along your cheek when he reached your temple, he placed a chase kiss to your skin.

“I was thinking about it.” He brought his hand up capturing your chin to keep your attention forced on him. “Would be a shame to get rid of such a fine piece of ass like you.” He ran his thumb over your lips on instinct you opened your mouth allowing him to run is thumb over your tongue while you lightly sucked it. “So why don’t you do what you do best and convince me not to kill you.”

His grip on your chin tightened as his thumb firmly pressed on your bottom front teeth. Your sucking stopped as he started to guide your face down. You slid to your knees and placed your hands on his hips. You looked up to see his blue eyes glowing with an unsettling desire. It was clear as glass what he was in your apartment for and its not like the night you shared together was bad experience. The only dread you had was having Hawks suddenly come home and catch you with a top villain.

“Do it just like you did when we met.” He removed his hand from your face while yours went to work on his belt. With nimble hands you undid the button and pulled down the zipper. With a shifting grip you laced your fingers at the top of his pants pulling them down to his mid-thigh. You were now face to face with his cock bulging beneath his shorts. He made it jump knowing you were staring at it. You tried to hide your smile at the childish act as you slowly looked back up at him.

“Well? get to it slut. We don’t have all night and I have many other positions I plan to have you in before I’m done.” One of his hands slid across your cheek to the back of your head his fingers now laced in your hair. Slender fingers slipped under his waist band to pulling them down until his cock sprung free.

Dabi’s dick is beautiful, for several reasons. It’s long and curves upwards beautifully when he gets hard. There are visible veins along his length, but the one underneath is particularly thick and gorgeous. The perfect canvas for the Jacob’s ladder that he has going from base to tip. The Prince Albert piercing was new. He must have got it done just after you met because it looked well healed. The wide head of his cock is always so pretty and pink. You staired in awe watching the little beads of precum leak around his piercing it was especially mouth-watering. He’s not as girthy as Hawks, but those piercings and veins more than make up for it.

His fingers tighten in your hair as he felt you start to take him in. The taste of metal and salt was thick on your tongue as you tentatively sucked on the tip, and it just tasted so good. You missed what it felt like to have him in your mouth, in your throat.

You picked up his weighty cock, lifting it above your face, so that you could deliberately drag your tongue along his shaft, letting it slowly climb every rung of the ladder while he watched. In awe of how big his dick looked resting against your cute face. How fucking sexy you looked when you locked eyes with him, pupils already blown with lust from how desperately you wanted him to abuse each and every one of your holes.

The sensation of the piercings on your tongue was enough to have you clenching at the thought of him sliding inside you, scratching that itch in a way that you never would admit out loud. How could you tell anyone that one of your best nights was with a top villain. You moaned, a lewd, animalistic sound as you bobbed your head over his length, feeling your tongue dance over the piercings again as the metal fastened within his tip kissed the back of your throat.

He nearly came the first time you took him to the hilt and watching you do it again now was dissolving his restraint. His fingers fisting into your hair to grip it tight, knuckles turning white as he held himself as still as he could in your throat, willing himself not to cum before easing your off his length with a choked groan.

“Shit, baby,” he murmurs, inhaling a deep breath as he slowly shifted his hips forward, rocking his length in and out of your mouth. He was loving the tears that fell from your eyes as you held back from choking on him. “You love this dick, don’t cha, doll?”

“Mmhmm,” you mewl, humming around the head as your tongue swirled around the metal and pressed against his sensitive slit lightly flicking his piercing.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his eyes closing as his head dropped back. You began to swallow down the thick hot ropes that hit the back of your throat. As he slowly slid out you continued to lightly suck on his tip making sure to not miss a drop.

“You wanna know what? I actually missed the feeling of being trapped inside that soppin’ cunt of yours.” With a bit of force, he pulled you up to your feet then pushed you on to the bed. Your palms flat on the plush bedding slightly hunched over. You felt a chill across your exposed body as you stood there in your undergarments and heals.

His lips attached to your neck as his fingers went to work to remove your bra. He continued his wet openmouthed kissed along your skin causing goosebumps to form. With a soft thump you heard your bra fall to the floor. He trailed his fingers lightly up your spine causing you to whimper in your throat.

A flat palm placed between your shoulder blades forcing your upper body down to the bed. Dabi leaned over you slightly using some of his wight to keep you down. His free hand started to run along your clothed womanhood. His middle finger pressed the fabric between your lower lips causing the material to become moist from your juices.

“You are such a slut getting off to my cock, what a horny little bitch. But your my bitch aren’t you—yeah, say ‘yes sir’.” He quickly removed his hand from between your legs to send a sharp slap to your cheek.

“Yes sir.” You sharply squealed out.

“Wonder what your little hero boyfriend Hawks would say if he saw you like this? Does he make you as wet as I can?” You ducked your head down in shame. For a moment in your lust filled haze you had forgotten about Hawks and the guilt was twisting at your heart.

A cold chill stunned your body as you heard the click of locks from your front door. Despite the low villainous chuckles from Dabi you were hyper focused on the sound of Hawks’ work boots thumping closer to your bedroom.

“Whoa? I thought you were going to wait for me?” Hawks stood tall in the doorway looking between you and Dabi.

“Hawks!” You called out in panic, but he didn’t react to you. A confused look spread over your face as you took in the words, he just said realizing they were not aimed at you. It was boggling to even fathom that your loving boyfriend in anyway was working with Dabi.

“Aww... look at the little plaything trying to figure it all out.” Dabi’s words were venomous and caused your stomach to twist. You couldn’t help the tears that started to flow from your eyes.

“Come on chickadee don’t be like that.” As Hawks walked closer to you, he removed his jacket and shirt. You felt Dabi shift behind you and heard the rustling of clothes he was likely removing his pants from around his ankles. Hawks stroked your cheek so he could tuck some loose hair behind your ear.

“We just wanted to share you. (y/n) I care about you so much would you really think I would let any harm come to you?” He always has a huge twinkle in his eyes and a silly smile on his face whenever he looks at you but right now there was something slightly dark there. He only had that look when he was in an especially sexual mood. That look always caused heat to build in your panties. His words started to echo in your head as you debated his offer. No harm had come to you so far when you were alone with Dabi in fact you were quite enjoying yourself. The image of both of them having their way with you was enough to get you to start rubbing your legs together to create much needed friction.

“Seems the little slut likes the idea.” Dabi leaned next to your ear. “Not like I really cared what you thought. This isn’t about what you want Its about what we want.” With force Dabi flipped you to your back causing you to squeal in surprise. You looked away toward Hawks to see him removing the last of his clothing.

Hawks’ cock might be nicest you have seen, he has a red tip with a vain running from the tip to the base on the top and the same on the bottom. He started to lazily stroke his length as he crawled on the bed next to your head.

Dabi grabbed your face to the point it started to hurt forcing you to look back at him. His free hand was held up and incased in a blue flame. Your eyes went wide with fear but you dared not to move. Hawks gently stroked the top of your head calming you down slightly but you refused to look away from the flame. His flamed hand went down to your panties and he engulfed them. The heat stung your skin but once enough fabric was gone so was the flame.

Hawks placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and whispered that you were such a ‘good girl’. Dabi slid his hand off your face to grip your throat giving your neck a stern squeeze. His pointer finger and thumb guided your face towards Hawks’ prominent erection. Dabi slid his free hand down into your core the heat that lingered on his fingers from his quark left a warm sensation inside you. Your lips went wide as you gasped from the pleasurable sensation allowing Hawks’ to slip himself past your lips. Dabi wasted no time and removed his fingers from your dripping core and began to slide his own length inside you.

"Fuck baby, yeh that's it shit-", Hawks says grabbing your hair, you let out a moan around his dick as he pulls your hair slightly. “Yeah, you enjoy taking me so well, don’t you, Chickadee?” He hits the back of your throat as he moans. He has his hands in your hair, tugging at it, throwing his head back in accordance with the bobs of your head. You start to bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue to lick the veins along his cock.

"Ahh~ yeh that's it good girl, suck my cock"

Dabi had his palms underneath your knees, your thighs pressed up towards your chest as his slender body loomed over you, his thick cock sliding inside your tight cunt with slow, hard thrusts. His blue eyes watching the way your tits bounced with each rut of his hips.

“Fuck, doll. You feel so fuckin’ good. Look at your sloppy pussy, taking me so well.” Hawks’ removed himself for a moment from your mouth. You whimpered when you felt Dabi adjust your thighs slightly, slipping your ass further up on his lap as he began to angle his thrusts at a different spot inside you, one that had your eyes rolling back.

Shoving his precum, and saliva-soaked prick back into your mouth until Hawks was sure he was going to cum. You were so keen on helping him, humming with excitement as he fucked your mouth.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, "Fuck baby gonna cum" he says as he holds on to your head in place, thrusting his hips into your face, his cock going deeper into your throat.

"Fuck.. ahh~ shit yeh fuck-" Hawks moans out as he shoots his thick cum into your throat, painting the back of your throat white.

Dabi’s thumb unrelenting against your clit as he began to draw random patterns against it, groaning when he felt you begin to clench around him. Your cunt clenching around his cock as a clear stream began to trickle from your tight cunt.

Dabi’s eyes instantly looking between where your bodies were connected to watch the liquid seep from your body, splashing against his pelvis, abdomen and your thighs as he continued rutting his hips into you, enjoying the sight of you squirting all over him.

“Shit, that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about doll, you dirty fuckin’ bitch.” The way your cunt was squeezing around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm had Dabi following you into bliss, bottoming inside you a final time as he came deep inside your quivering walls.

When he pulled his softening cock from your tight cunt his eyes immediately watched the way your cunt squeezed around nothing, unable to resist slipping his fingers down to run through the mixture of your releases, feeling it damp against his skin.

"Your blow jobs really are the best baby" Hawks kiss your forehead, but your body was so numb and buzzing from the after shock of your pleasure you could barely feel it. Your head was dizzy and your vision was blurry from tears. While you felt the bed shift as they moved away from you everything went dark and you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke feeling over heated. Heavy lids opened to survey your surroundings. The heat you felt was Dabi and Hawks sandwiching you between their bodies. With careful movement to not wake either of them you managed yourself out of bed. With light footsteps you made your way to the kitchen for much needed drink of water.

You felt sore, humiliated, and very satisfied with what you remembered doing. Once your thirst was quenched you walked back into your room only to stop at the sight of Dabi and Hawks cuddled together. You held back you giggles and found your phone. After snapping your picture, you hid your phone in your underwear drawer and tossed on an oversized shirt and panties. When you turned back to the bed you could see golden eyes peaking at you.

He lifted his wing and lazily lifted his arm making a small space for you to come back to bed to. You didn’t know the extent of his relationship with Dabi or what it meant for your relationship now that you three all shared an intimate moment. Sleep called to you louder than the million questions swirling in your head as you crawled into place. Hawks kissed your forehead while you felt Dabi shift behind you grunting.

“Night boys.”

#dabihawks #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x reader x hawks #mha dabi #hawks x y/n #hawks smut #mha hawks #mha smut #keigo x touya #touya smut #keigo smut

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suicidalslasher · 3 years

Text

𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 ➤ 𝑱𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑫.

Nothing but porn w/o a plot. There actually is a plot and if anybody is confused on the ending, I can explain but it’s more porn than anything.... so, here you go, you filthy animals.

WARNINGS: choking, degradation, use of a gun (brief), a lot of dirty talk... of course. Oral, m on f / f on m. Fingering. Squirting. (brief.)

!! Female reader. Readers pronouns are she/her. !!

ps: if you enjoy my content and have a dollar or two to spare, here’s my ko-fi.

“You don’t know me, but something terrible is going to happen. That boy you call your boyfriend isn't a man at all, in fact, he's a monster and he's only using you to kill you, for your blood to be on his hands, for him to be the cause of your death. He's twisted, that way. He's not as nice as he portrays himself to be. If I were you — and once upon a time ago, I was in your shoes, I was you — I'd get the hell out of that relationship and quickly." Jason looked up from the letter his girlfriend, (Y/N), had received in her locker. His lips are pressed together tightly into a white slash, his jaw clenched and in a sharp tone, he asks, "So.... what? You're going to break up with me over a letter that a complete stranger put in your locker?" He sneered, grinding his teeth together before he stood up, moving the chair back as he does so.

The piece of furniture loudly squeaks against the floor, making (Y/N) grimace and flinch at the obnoxious noise. It's not the only thing in the room being annoying, though. "No." (Y/N) answers, giving an eyeroll in return to his question as she folds her arms across her chest. "I want to see the monster you supposedly are, that's all." She adds. "This isn't the first or even the second letter that says those words. There's been an endless amount and quite frankly, my beloved J.D, I'm suspicious on what it exactly means." "You believe the notes, do you?" He questions, stepping closer to his girlfriend, eyebrow arched as he waits for her response. "I do..... or I don't. That's up to you to decide for me. So, enlighten me, Jason, are you a monster in disguise or are you not and someone's simply playing a trick on not only me but the both of us?" "What is it you're trying to do to me, (Y/N)?" "Oh my God, fuck me like you hate me, fuck me like the monster that you supposedly are, according to the pieces of paper I receive every day.. I want to see whether or not it's true." Jason is silent, as if he had gone mute. He was standing inches away from her face, doing - saying - nothing. Only... staring, like he was a starved predator and she was his only prey, his first feast of the day.

Though, she knows the air conditioner isn't on, and neither are the windows open, (Y/N) shivers as if it were cold. But it was his eyes that were frosty. His eyes were two lifeless pools of abyss-black, an ice-cold stare he was giving. Finally, he speaks for what feels like ages since he last talked, although it had only been a minute or two since he did, "I hate you. Despise you, actually. Don't even know why we continue to have this fucking conversation. You're seriously so fucking annoying," He spat. (Y/N) wasn't sure if he meant the words or not, either way, it did feel like a stab in the chest. She purses her lips together and she goes to say something but before she could, his hand is wrapped around her throat and her back is pushed up against the wall. "I should strangle you." "Is that a promise?" She gasped out. "Once I start, I might not be able to stop." He informs, clicking his tongue against the root of his mouth. His grip, however, gets tighter and as fucked up as it may sound, (Y/N) grows wetter, she squeezes her thighs tighter together and has to bite back a moan at the feeling of his hand around her throat. "I don't care what you do," (Y/N) replied truthfully, voice low and groggy, as if she had just woken up. "Just fuck me." "My pleasure." To her disappointment, Jason drops his hand down at his side before gesturing to the floor with a motion of his finger. "Get on your knees, this cock isn't going to suck itself." (Y/N) is more than happy to oblige as she crashed to her knees, quickly, undoing his belt buckle and unbuttoning his jeans. In only a matter of seconds, he's got his pants and boxer briefs off, hanging down his ankles and his dick is being swallowed by his favorite cock-slut.

Her eyes are fluttered shut as she tries to concentrate on pleasing him. And as always, she's doing a great job at doing so. Then he remembers — this was a punishment and she deserved to be punished. She wanted for him to unleash the beast, after all, right? So, he would be doing that. Jason growls and grabs the back of her neck, fingers finding their way up to her hair as he then forces her further down onto her cock, making her sputter and choke, a few drops of spit soaking his shaft as he face-fucks (Y/N)'s throat. "Take it, slut. You wanted this, remember? Wanted to see the man behind the mask, well, here I am, baby, standing proudly right in front of you. Take my cock, choke on it like the filthy, little bitch you are. That's all you are, isn't it, sweetheart? You aren't important enough for me to keep around, according to the letters you get. Only keep you around so I can fuck you like the desperate whore you are. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?" (Y/N)'s eyes are full of tears and she knows, without even looking in the mirror, her cheeks are stained with mascara and her lipstick is smudged, as her throat is getting pounded by the man above her, his grip on her hair is too tight, it's too much and yet not enough.

She wants more — no, scratch that — needs more. "Desperate cock-hungry bitch, aren't you, baby? Starving for me to feed you my cock, to feed you my cum. You'll just open your legs to anyone, everyone, too, huh? Especially me, even when you know exactly what I've done.... letters or no letters, you know the kind of person I am.. and yet, I'm the monster? You're no saint, either, miss (L/N).You're as crazy and as fucked up as I am." (Y/N) nearly (key-word there) makes a mess in her panties. And she hasn't touched herself at all yet, neither has Jason placed a finger yet on her.

Jason, on the other end, notices how her fingernails are digging themselves into his bare, naked thighs rougher than they had been previously. There's also more sweat pooling at the top of her forehead, too. He was making a complete mess out of her and was loving every single second of it. "What is it, baby girl? You want to cum for me? Going to cum for me, untouched? Oh, so naughty, filthy little thing," He cooed, slowing down his movements as he continues to push his dick further down her throat, feeling more saliva spill out of her mouth and wetting his cock as he does so.

"Go on then, baby. Make a mess all in your panties. I know you can do it." And, well, yeah, just like that (Y/N) is coming, untouched, all while Jason does the same, feeding her his cum with a grunt of her name escaping his lips. (Y/N) hums happily as she pulls back, wiping what remains on her cheeks onto her fingers, coating her digits with his ejeculation and slips the juices into her mouth, making sure to poke her tongue out and give Jason a show — she wanted to prove how much of a slut she really was, and how desperate she was to have him bury his cock in her pussy. She needed the pain, wanted to feel it. She wanted it rough. "So... what else do you have in plan?" (Y/N) wonders, looking up at him with a smirk. That little grin placed on her lips is quick to fall down into a worried frown when Jason pulls a gun out at her, pressing it against her skull. "I could kill you since I got what I needed." His voice was as devoid of life as an ossuary and his eyes were still soul-penetrating. Not even a hint of a smile, not even a sign of amusement in the tone of voice. Surely, he wasn't being serious.... was he? He presses the end of the gun to her mouth, making her lips part open as he presses the gun inside. "Could blow your brains out, right here, right now.... since that's all I'm going to do to you, anyways, right? I'll kill you eventually, why not now?" Jason pulls the trigger.

It's a blank. Of fucking course it is. "I'm only kidding," He said, chuckling lowly as he places the gun back into the pocket of his trench coat. "You're a fucking dick." (Y/N) hisses, getting up on her feet and raising her hand up, slapping him on the cheek. "Don't scare me like that," "You're the one who was sucking my dick, first of all.... and you are also the one who wanted me to show you just how awful I could be... so, it's your fault." Jason said. "Oh, shut up and kiss me already. 'm tired of this roleplay. Just want you inside me. Now." "As you wish, your majesty." Jason laughs, bending forward as he picks his girlfriend up, throwing her over his shoulder and carries her to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot.

He then falls down onto the bed, letting his girlfriend fall on the mattress as well, (Y/N) squealing loudly as she tries to get comfortable and find a cozy spot along the mountain of pillows that rest against the headboard of the bed. "Can I at least see if you're as sweet as you look?" Jason asks, licking his lips. For obvious reasons, (Y/N) doesn't argue. All she does is nod her head and lets a breathless pant out, answering with a, 'yes, please'. She shimmies out of her pants, pulling her panties down as she strips out of both. Once they're off, she throws them elsewhere, not worried where they end up nor does she have time to worry about such things because the moment she's naked, Jason is pulling her legs apart and is quick to bury his face in her thighs.

"Oh, God, fuck. Should've given me a warning, baby." She whines, fingers brushing through his hair as she tugs his black locks, pulling him closer, dragging his face closer to her cunt. "Need you so badly...." She murmurs, feeling the smile of her boyfriend's face against her heat. His tongue dances against her clit, flicking this way and that. He was always phenomenal with his mouth, more so his tongue than anything else. (Other than his dick, of course.) (Okay, everything about J.D, other than his temper, was amazing.) There were no words to describe it other than perfection and magical. "Jason, baby..." Hearing her pleas and knowing he's doing an excellent job, he continues, this time adding a finger and pushing it deep inside, earning a loud gasp to spill from (Y/N)'s lips. "Jason, fuck!" She's wet, this much is obvious, but she's leaving a puddle not only on his face but beneath her. She'll have to wash the comforter later, she hopes she isn't leaving any stains behind either and can wash it out in time before it does leave an imprint.

These thoughts are replaced when Jason adds another finger, and she isn't so sure if he has two inside or three, all (Y/N) knows is it feels so fucking good and if he doesn't stop, she's going to cum soon. "S-Stop, Jason, please.... want to cum by your cock, wanna cum with you." Jason doesn't stop, despite her cries. He's pushing her thighs down, holding her still as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, his tongue is everywhere and she feels so hot, feels as if every part of her body is on fire. "Jason, Jason," (Y/N)'s moans come out like a broken record; only able to play the bit of his name on repeat, only able to speak his name and nothing else. "Jason, baby, oh.... I'm.... I'm going to cum!" And within a matter of seconds, that familiar sensation she had been feeling for the last few minutes in the pit of her stomach finally explodes and she's shooting her orgasm all over his fingers and on his face and... wait, did she- "You squirted, holy shit..." Jason pulls back, laughing as he wipes his face off of with his shirt. "That's a first. Just by my fingers too, fuck, baby girl.... can't even begin to imagine what you can do when I stuff my cock deep inside your cunt." "Well, don't imagine then and just do it. Fuck me." Jason chuckles as he takes off the rest of his clothes. Which wasn't much other than his coat and the shirt. (Y/N) giggles, not realizing that was all he had on. Nothing but his trenchcoat and a shirt underneath, his lower half being completely bare. "What?" He asks, dropping the jacket and his shirt at the end of the bed before he's crawling up and over on (Y/N), wrapping her legs around him as he presses the tip of his cock at her entrance, teasing her for a second or two. "Nothing. Just waiting for you." "Anything for my darling." With this, he presses his cock steadily at her entrance before he's leaning forward, pressing his chest on top of hers, Jason slides his cock deep within her walls at a slow pace before he's fully inside her, his own mouth parting open at the tightness that clenches around him. "Always so tight, (Y/N), fuck." "I'm not going to last long," She answers honestly. Jason agreed, nodding his head rapidly as he moves, little by little, bit by bit. "Me, either, baby. You feel so good, always fucking so good." "Jason...." (Y/N) mewls, feeling that sensation clouding over her once more, every thrust he gave sent a wave of electricity to shock her. Her orgasm would be stronger than the one she had a few seconds ago, this much she knew.

"Jason, baby, fuck.... you feel so good. Love feeling you inside me," She gasps, her feet were pointed like a dancer's, her toes curling and uncurling. Her pelvis rose from the bed as if seeking something in the air, Jason had to hold her down against the mattress, placing her hands above her head so she could remain still. "Jason, please, I'm so close, I'm-" He cuts her off by pressing his lips onto hers. "Tell me you love me." He whispers, slowing the movements of his hips. She laughs, pulling back and presses her face in the crook of his neck, playfully giving him a bite. "You're the one who lit the match and burned me earlier, telling me you hate me.... why should I say it first?" "Cause you and I damn well know I don't hate you, I could never hate you, darling, so tell me you love me, please." "I love you, Jason Dean, now cum inside me and fill me up like the desperate, cum slut I am. I wanna feel you." Jason groans as he presses (Y/N) back against the pillows, leaving one hand off of her arm as he now cups her face, crashing his lips back against hers hungrily. "Cum with me, baby girl, cum with me." (Y/N) musters a few curse words, letting them fall into Jason's open mouth as they kiss wildly and crazily, the type of kiss you'd only see in pornagraphic movies. (What they were doing too, obviously, could be in a film as well.) "I love you, I love you, I love you." Jason groans and spills his seed, filling (Y/N) up as he shoots his load deep inside her walls, moaning the same words she just said into the kiss. "Fuckin, goddamn..." He groans, pulling back as he falls next to her. "Never realized you were so naughty." "Yes you do. That's why you started dating me, why you fell in love with me... shall I continue?" "Correction: Didn't realize death was such a turn on for you." "That's fair." (Y/N) answered with a giggle, grabbing Jason and cuddling up into his side, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I've still got to thank Veronica for being part of this, giving me the roleplay idea and everything." "Still don't understand why you're best friends with my ex," "She introduced us. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here; We wouldn't be together." "That's fair." He mocks her words, chuckling as he kisses the top of her head. "Still, I'd never hurt you. You know this, right?" (Y/N) nods and hums, drawing tiny figures on Jason's chest with the tip of her finger. "I know. Unless I ask for it." She jokes but she and Jason knew there were truth in her words. "Filthy thing, you are (Y/N) (L/N)." "Yes.... but you love me, though, Jason Dean." "That I do." "And I love you." "I love you too... although you fit the label; 'geek in the streets, freak in the sheets' perfectly." He jokes.

"Can't believe you squirted still and love being degraded as much as you do, love being talked like your feelings aren't valuable... never expected this from you, missy." "Says the one who killed others... you crazed bastard. I knew what I was getting myself into when I got together with you, J.D. I'm not stupid." "And see, that's why I love you. You love me and the monsters in my closet." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and kiss me, killer." "Keep that attitude up and I'm gonna have to kill that pussy of yours." "Do it. I'm ready for a round two." (Y/N) replied with a smirk. "Just can't get enough of this cock, can you?" "Nope." "Truly are a cock slut." Jason replied with a 'tsk' before he grabs (Y/N), placing her on top of him. "Ride me, baby girl. You already know what Daddy likes." "Don't have to tell me twice."

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Back

School has been kicking my ass lately, but I found some time to write this little warm and fuzzy nothing. I’d love any advice or critiques!

Title: Back

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1915

Summary: Getting back to find the reader has been waiting for the Winchesters to get home from a hunt, Sam is a little nervous and more than a little happy.

Warnings: mutual pining fluff only!

Sam and Dean walked down bunker stairs slowly, their bones aching with the work of the last week. They had changed into clean clothes to drive through the night back to Kansas, but their hands and hair bore the telltale mud and blood of a hunt, and they badly needed to shower. Walking into the library, Sam took his duffel bag off his shoulder and dropped it unceremoniously but quietly.

Curled up in a chair on the other end of the table, you slept wrapped in a blanket and draped over the old wood. Your hair ground into your folded arms and the huge book you had been reading, and the pressure of your head on your cheek pouched your lips out a touch. Sam brushed his palms on his jeans somewhat fruitlessly in an effort not to dirty your face as he brushed a chunk of hair back from your temple.

“Hey,” he whispered in a low voice, his hand hovering over your shoulder. “We’re home.”

You woke with a small jolt, peeking open one eye to look up at Sam. A sleepy smile spread across your eyes as you arched back to stretch. “Hey, handsome,” you answered in the croaky voice of a nap. “How’d it go?”

“All good, no major injuries. You should be in bed,” he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Carry me?” you asked. The shy smile on your face betrayed you as only half joking.

Sam chuckled as Dean came over to them. “He smells like sweat and swamp monster ass,” Dean offered.

“Thanks Dean,” Sam said sarcastically, his voice still low. “He’s right though. Still want me to?”

You nodded with closed eyes, your contented smile showing through even as you yawned. “Dean, there’s lasagna in the fridge if you want it.” As an aside to Sam you mouthed, “vegetarian.” Sam’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he offered his arms out to you. You got up and put your arms around Sam’s neck, letting him ease you up into his chest. Your calves and socked feet dangled over his forearm.

“You’re the best,” Dean insisted, gripping an invisible fist of victory. He gathered up the blanket and stacked it on top of your stomach.

“Don’t stay up too late,” you hummed to Dean while nuzzling your head into the crook of Sam’s neck.

“I won’t, kid. I promise.” He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

Sam nodded to Dean over you, jerking his head toward the kitchen to show he’d meet his brother in a minute. He carried you back to your room and lowered you down onto your bed before spreading the blanket out on top of you.

“You didn’t need to wait up for us,” Sam said.

“I know, but I wanted to see you.”

“Well I won’t lie, it feels a lot more like home to come back to you than an empty bunker,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah?” you asked with a sly grin.

“Definitely.”

“Will you come sleep here?” Your eyebrow crooked up in question. It was loaded, definitely a pretty big step further down the tightrope you and Sam had been walking. But it had felt right to ask, and you fought back the impulse to take it back or turn it into a joke. Sam’s eyebrows lifted in soft, hopeful surprise, and it changed his whole face.

“I can if you want me to,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The hesitation in your voice made his pulse race despite his fatigue.

“Uh, ok, yeah. Just let me eat something and shower and I’ll be here, I promise. Don’t wait up though.”

You nodded, trying to fight a smile by biting your lip, then pulled the blanket up under your chin and closed your eyes. Sam lingered in the doorframe for a moment, watching the light from the hallway fall on the swells and angles of your body before going to the kitchen with Dean.

Dean was already halfway into a plate of lasagna by the time Sam got there and took off his jacket.

“Dude, she’s outdone herself. This is awesome,” Dean said through the last third of a mouthful before swallowing.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Sam asked as he walked to the fridge.

Dean looked up smugly over his fork. “What’s going on with that anyway?”

Sam closed the microwave door on a plate of lasagna and turned toward Dean. “Uh, I mean, I don’t know. She asked me to sleep with her.” Dean half-choked on a bite, coughing and grabbing at his beer bottle. His brother realized his mistake, making an exasperated face before correcting himself. “Not like that, Jesus. Like literally sleep in her room.” Dean pounded his chest with a closed fist and fought through a hoarse throat.

“Are you going to?”

“I mean, yeah. Why, should I not?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know what you should or shouldn’t do, man. Just seems awfully boyfriend-experience to me,” Dean said, his hands up in faux surrender.

“Well, yeah,” Sam conceded, getting his plate out of the microwave.

“So you’re her boyfriend?” Dean looked incredulous.

“Dean, I don’t know,” Sam whined as he sat down across from his brother.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll leave you alone about it. But know that I’m going to be pissed if things get weird between you two and she leaves. Aside from the extra backup, I can’t go back to Marie Calendar and beef jerky after this.”

Sam nodded placatingly.

You had dozed off, waking up when some lizard part of your brain realized the light had shifted in the room. Sam filled the doorway in an old t-shirt and flannel pajama pants slung low enough on his hips to expose a little sliver of skin when he walked. The smell of shampoo crossed the room as if being unfurled from his still-damp hair, the clean familiarity of it making your joints relax even further than they had in sleep. He saw the heavy lids of your eyes for the second time that night, and felt a pang of nervous affection.

“Do you still want me to, ah..?” Sam whispered like a gravel road at dusk.

You nodded, folding back the comforter next to you. He walked over, messing with the hem of his shirt like a shy teenager before crawling gently into bed. He didn’t know what to do. It felt like the first time he’d ever slow-danced with a girl at some stupid school formal—Mandy Jacobsen, freshman year of high school, wearing a shirt Dean had outgrown but was still too loose to be tucked in properly and his dad’s shoes—not knowing where to put his hands or whether it was better or worse to press against you. You waited a beat before rolling to your back to mirror him.

“Is this too weird?” you asked.

“No, no. Sorry, I just—I’m just a little keyed up from the hunt I guess.” Sam cursed himself in his head; you knew they’d driven over 7 hours to get back, it made no sense that he’d still be on an adrenaline rush. He was grateful when you didn’t say anything.

“Was it gross? When you guys had me look up bunyips I was so glad I didn’t come with on the stomp-around-in-the-swamp job.”

He chuckled quietly. “You would’ve hated it. We had to change before Dean would even unlock the car.”

“How’d you get back to the motel to change if he wouldn’t unlock it?”

“No, like out on the side of the road.”

“So you and Dean were naked on the side of the road in—where was it?”

“Stringtown, Oklahoma.”

“In Stringtown, Oklahoma, and didn’t get arrested?”

“It’s pretty rural.”

“Well thank God for that,” you giggled, turning onto your side to face him. “I would’ve had to take that stupid little Volkswagen to come and get you. You’d have needed a double knee replacement by the time we crossed the state line.”

“Then I’m even more glad.” Sam’s profile was fuzzy in the dark but you could hear his smile. When he turned to face you the tiny amount of ambient light glinted off his teeth. “I missed you,” he added, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him from inches away.

“I missed you too,” you breathed.

Sam shifted to his side and tentatively reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, you should go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to leave if I do?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” His thumb was gentle and callused against your cheek, brushing absentmindedly.

“I don’t want you to.” You twisted away from him to curl back against his chest. Sam got those same heart-thumping sweaty palms he had with Mandy Jacobsen and hoped you couldn’t feel the thrum of his pulse against you, suddenly aware of how thin the fabric separating you two was. He felt gangly and awkward in his filled-out 32 year old body, and kind of stupid for it; less than an hour ago he’d held you in his arms and he couldn’t even estimate the amount of times his hands had roamed your skin, feeling for broken bones and shards of glass or stitching up a gash. He was trying to remember what the natural thing to do here was when you reached behind to his side and pulled his arm over you, laying his palm out below your sternum and lacing your fingers in his. His hand spanned a wide swath of your torso and made you feel delicate, like something precious. After a moment, Sam let the weight of his arm settle over top of you like a cloak, the pressure soothing and protective.

You smelled like warm skin, fresh sheets, and the orange blossom soap you loved from the farmer’s market in the next town over. Sam inhaled deeply, nestling his face against your hair and feeling the heat from you and your body-warmed comforter seep into him, so opposite from the freezing bog water he’d been up to his thighs in earlier that day. He was having a hard time coming up with something that would be better than this and thought it might actually be ramping up his nerves, comfortable as it was. Instinctively he pressed his lips to your hair, feeling a jolt in his chest when it made you lean back into him.

Seems awfully ‘boyfriend-experience’ to me ran through his head and he felt an overwhelming ache. If this was the boyfriend experience, he wanted nothing else in the world. He felt your breath deepen under his palm and the weight of your body began to sink a bit in that telltale way that told him you were falling back asleep. Sam listened for a long minute to the rhythm of it.

“I love you,” he breathed, just to hear what it sounded like.

“I love you too, Sam,” you murmured, barely opening your mouth.

Sam had no time to feel embarrassed you’d heard him, hadn’t been fully asleep, as his chest swelled with helium. He shifted his calf to cover your cold feet and smiled, all to himself, into the darkness. It took him hours to drift off, but he didn’t care. There was no place he’d rather be.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @winchestergirl2 @samwisethegr8 @nobxdy @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @fairlyspnfanfic @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @mimaria420 @huntheimpossible (s)

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

#sam winchester #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester one shot #sam x reader #sam x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam fluff #sam winchester fluff #spn fluff #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn oneshot #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural one shot

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

Text

trouble (matthew gray gubler/fem!reader)

Title: trouble

Request: requested by anon

Couple: matthew gray gubler/fem!reader

Category: smut (*gasp* i know...) w/ a side of fluff

Content Warning: sexual content (penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe buddies), fingering, car sex, choking kink, daddy kink (But as a joke), masturbation, slight edging (i guess that’s what it’s called)), kinda sub!reader, kinda dom!mgg, swearing, sexual innuendos, teasing, pissed off matthew

Word Count: 4369

Summary: Reader and Matthew are going out to a dinner party with the cast of Criminal Minds. After some suggestive comments and innuendos and actions (done by reader). Matthew teaches Reader a lesson in the back seat of his station wagon.

A/N: in celebration of hitting 200 followers, i decided to pus my first smut here :) although it was a request and i was going to post it either way. this was the request i got and when i saw it i got more than excited and my mind ran wild with it! matthew 10/10 calls his partner princess in this one-shot. it’s a little bit rougher than i was expecting, but i kinda lost track of my thoughts and just went for it. thank you so much to that anon that sent this in! if you have a request or an idea, send it in! and check out my masterlist!

6/1/2021 Edit: I no longer write rpf smut. this was written before I made that change.

~*~*~ THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT! ~*~*~

{***}{***}{***}

Oh boy, it was just one of those days… I could just feel it in my body that I was going to be an asshole today and nothing anyone could do could stop me from that. My sassy mood would be the one thing that gets me in trouble today, and I think I’m honestly okay with that.

I walked into the bedroom, wearing nothing but my undergarments (which consisted of my personal favorite black/mint lingerie), and tan stockings. Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes. I walked over to the closet, right past him. We should and are getting ready for a dinner party with his friends from Criminal Minds. Should being the key-word there. I loved messing with him like that.

“Woah,” he spoke ever so softly. I stayed facing the closet, but a smile grew on my lips. I gently swayed my hips as I went through the dresses I had hanging. He was staring, I knew he had to be staring. I pulled one dress out, not really thinking it’d be the one.

“What should I wear,” I asked out to the room. The sounds of his shoes hitting the wood flooring was the answer I got instead of his voice. I pouted as I dropped my head to my shoulder, my hair hitting my arm. I jumped as his icy cold hands and arms wrapped around my middle. His face was pressed into my neck. He exhaled deeply before kissing the base of my throat. I smiled as he swayed with my movements.

“I think you should go like this. Show you off to all my friends,” Matthew hummed as he dragged his hands to the front of my hips. My hands stopped on two separate dresses and clenched the fabric in my fingers. “I think they’d enjoy that… I know I would,” he added, his thumbs playing with the lacy edges of my panties. I took a deep breath and stepped back, so I was flush against his body.

“Matthew, obviously I can’t just go in my underwear.” I scoffed as he pushed me so there was a small space between us. I sighed deeply as he stepped away from me. “I’ll figure it out,” I rolled my eyes as he retreated to the bed. I filed through my dresses again before pulling out a black cocktail dress that I knew would drive Matthew crazy during the night. I dashed off to the bathroom to finish getting ready. “Zip me up?” I asked as I stepped back into the bedroom and stood behind Matthew. Shuffling came from behind me before he zipped my dress up.

“Ready to go?” he whispered. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to swallow roughly.

“Almost. Let me get my things together and I should be ready,” I sighed deeply. It’s going to be one of those nights, I just know it. Matthew pressed his lips to my cheek before walking away from me, again.

And that was my cue. I was quick. I’ve never been so fast to get ready for an event. He was probably getting out into the car as we speak. I grabbed a tube of lip gloss from the bathroom and tossed it into my bag before slipping a pair of plain black heels on. And then, I left the house.

And, as per my guess, Matthew was already sitting in his station wagon, waiting for me. I shuffled to the passenger’s side of the car and pulled the door open.

I looked over at Matthew as I slipped into the car. He was looking at himself in the mirror of the visor. I swallowed roughly as my eyes trailed from his perfectly sculpted face (lingering for a moment on his lips), down to his neck (where I would love to leave love bites), down his chest (and even though he was wearing a suit, I wanted to push off his dress shirt), and finally, down to his lap (a lap I would just love to sit on). And he was just there… Sitting there, doing his thing like I wasn’t imagining wanting to rip his clothes off to have sex with him right now.

He dropped his hands from his face and rested them on his legs. I stared for a moment at his hands and their placement on his legs. I could feel my heart pick up and my head getting mildly dizzy. I took a deep breath and shook my head as I looked up at his face.

“Mm, now that’s a lap I could sit on,” I grinned at Matthew as I buckled my seatbelt in. The thought of grinding my ass into his crotch made me giggle lightly as I stared at him.

Matthew gawked as he looked over at me, his hands resting low on the steering wheel. I smiled as I folded my hands over my lap. I could feel Matthew’s eyes still on me as I looked out the window.

“What did you just say?” he asked as he slowly started the car. I hummed before looking over at him. He was still staring at me with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Hm? Oh! I said are you ready? I can’t wait to see Kirsten and AJ.” I smiled as I looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, but his expression was now amused instead of shocked. At least he’s amused now…

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you said, Princess,” Matthew glanced at me as he started his car and pulled out of the driveway. I couldn’t tell if he actually meant to call me that pet name, or if he was just teasing. Either way, he knows it gets me going.

“And, Aisha! Oh! I miss her!” I clapped my hands together. Matthew seemed to enjoy my excitement at seeing his friends and co-workers. It’s been a while since the wrap party for the show, so it’s been a while since either of us had seen them. “I still owe her $10 for that prank she helped me play when I visited the set that one day,” I grinned at Matthew.

“Yeah, sure, because stealing and hiding my fruit roll-ups is a prank,” he rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded. “Finding them a month later though was quite a pleasant surprise. I will admit that,” he laughed lightly.

“Listen, Matthew, you were the one who invited me to set. It’s not my fault I got bored while you were filming. Someone had to keep me entertained. I’m sorry it was Aisha who took that job. We had fun that day,” I laughed as I turned to face him. I crossed my legs as I looked at him. I pulled my purse off my body and put it in the backseat, accidentally hitting Matthew in the face. “I’m so sorry.” I looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at me with a playful irritation on his face.

“Accidents happen, just don’t let it happen again,” he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded.

“Won’t let it happen again,” I looked out the windshield.

The drive to the restaurant was in a comfortable, yet somehow tense, silent. I couldn’t help myself when it came to making a comment or innuendo of some sort. Matthew didn’t seem too crazy bothered by it, if anything it looked like he enjoyed it. Of course, I knew I needed to stop before we went in. So, I stayed silent when he pulled into a parking spot.

“You ready?” Matthew asked as he pushed the visor down. I reached back for my purse and pulled it in the front. I “accidentally” hit Matthew in the back of the head with my bag as I pulled it onto my lap. Oh, no, the first time was definitely an accident. The second time was 100% on purpose. No accident this time.

He dropped his shoulders and looked over at me, annoyance on his face. I looked down at my lap and bit my lips to refrain from smiling. Oh boy, I wonder what he’s going to do. Surely he won’t yell at me.

“Choke me, daddy,” I very jokingly teased as I looked at Matthew. He looked at me with shock on his face. I smirked as I began digging around in my purse for lip gloss. When I looked back up, Matthew threw his hand over my neck and pushed my head against the headrest. I widened my eyes and looked at him. I was relieved that he was just holding his hand there, not applying any pressure. But part of me really wanted him to do it. “I was joking,” I stated in a tone that said I wasn’t sure of myself.

“I’m not so sure you were… Princess,” Matthew smiled at me before removing his hand and turning back to the visor. I pouted at the lack of his touch and looked at him. I moved closer to him and looked up at his face. “Can I help you,” he looked away from the tiny visor mirror and down at me. I smiled and nodded before puckering my lips.

“Please,” I whispered and batted my eyelashes at him. He laughed before kissing my lips lightly. I pouted as I turned back in my seat. I glanced at Matthew and noticed that he was still fixing his mess of hair in the mirror. I turned back to face him, grabbing his hand again. He glanced at me for a moment before looking back at his reflection. I slowly brought his hand back to my throat and looked at him.

I swallowed roughly as I stared at him, keeping his hand on my throat. Matthew just continued to mess around with his hair. “Are you busy with my hand,” he asked looking at me. I pouted and pushed his hand away from me.

“No, I’m not,” I muttered before looking down at my phone. I looked at Matthew and pouted. “But I’d like to be,” I glared at him as I placed my hand high on my bare thigh.

“Hold on, what do you think you’re doing,” Matthew asked as his hand shot out to grasp my wrist. I smirked and looked over at him, pushing his hand off mine.

“Well, I wanna have fun before we go in and you won’t have fun with me. So, I’m gonna do it myself. Unless you want to change your mind,” I snipped back as I brought my hand to my panties. I honestly should’ve just forgone the underwear tonight. I don’t know why I didn’t. I could feel through the thin fabric that I was wet. He didn’t even do a damn thing to get me as wet as I am. But here I am, nearly sitting in a puddle. I suppose he just has that effect on me.

I looked at Matthew as I slid my hand into my panties and pressed a finger into my center, collecting some wetness on my finger. I gasped and lightly closed my eyes. I slowly moved my finger around my clit as I looked back at Matthew. He was silently watching me for a minute. The way he looked at me told me he was pissed. I've never seen him so mad before. I let out a soft moan as I pressed my head into the headrest.

“Matthew,” I whimpered as I looked at him. He shifted slightly in his seat as he looked back at me. I slowly circled my finger around my clit as I locked eyes with him. My breathing grew labored as I brought my free hand to my breast, kneading it over my shirt and bra. Just as I started to pick up speed, Matthew’s hand grasped my wrist and stilled my movements. I looked at him, alarmed and frustrated. He seriously did not just do that.

“Get in the backseat, we’ll have to be quick,” he muttered as he yanked my hand from my panties. I looked at him with wide eyes. He was looking at my wet finger before putting it in his mouth. I took a deep breath, feeling more overwhelmed by the second. “Go on,” he half-ordered as he nodded to the back seat. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered when I stayed frozen in my seat. I nodded before getting out of the front seat and trying to move fast to the back.

I sat in the middle of the bench seat and shimmied out of my panties. Matthew was quick to sit beside me in the backseat. He didn’t even give me time to understand what was about to happen. That’s okay, I just know I’ll get what I want.

He gently pushed me so I was lying across the bench and he hovered over me and in between my legs. One of his knees stayed between my legs, making it so I couldn’t press them together for any sort of pleasure. Part of me hated it when he was like this, but another part loved it. He knew that too.

“You are being such a bad girl,” he whispered, bringing his hand back to my throat. I gasped and pressed my head into the seat. I looked up at him and nodded, telling him it was more than okay to do this. He gently and carefully put pressure into his grip as he stared down at me. I struggled slightly to breathe as I locked eyes with him again. “Touching yourself in the parking lot before we go into a dinner party… With my friends nonetheless,” he kept his voice low. Matthew brought his other hand down between my legs, resting it at the top of my thighs.

“I’m sorry,” I struggled to speak as I threw a hand over his one on my neck. He cocked his head slightly as he stared at me.

“You’re sorry, Princess?” he questioned, slowly moving his hand closer to my center. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he moved my panties to the side. I tried to swallow roughly and nodded. “Sorry just isn’t going to do it,” he spoke, causing me to open my eyes.

I tapped my fingers on the back of his hand, silently telling him that I really needed air. His eyes flashed slightly with concern as he removed his hand. I took a deep breath like it was my first time breathing. It was like fire in my lungs as I inhaled and felt like I was mildly high as I exhaled.

“I won’t do it again,” I whispered as I looked up at him. We both knew that I was clearly lying when I said that. Any chance I get to act like this, I’ll do it. A small smile twitched on his lips as he inserted a finger into my center. I gasped and closed my eyes as he pumped his finger in and out of me.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered, pushing his hand into my hair. I stared at him, shock on my face. “You know you’ll have to be punished for that. Right, Princess,” he asked as he rubbed my clit with his thumb. I whimpered and bit my lips together before nodding. “Mm-hmm, use your words,” his words were low. I swallowed roughly and stared at him.

“Yes, yes, I know. I know,” I spoke fast like if I didn’t speak fast enough I wouldn’t have words to say. I brought my hands to his belt buckle, going to undo his belt. I yelped when he grabbed both my hands with his one free hand. He held my hands above my head and smiled down at me.

“I’m in charge here, Princess, you know that,” Matthew moved his thumb faster. I wiggled and nodded. He leaned down close to my ear before whispering, “You don’t get to come till I tell you you can. Okay?” his tone was mildly teasing. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver slightly. I took a deep and shaky breath as I stared at him, a certain excitement setting in my belly. I was okay with it, honestly.

“Matthew,” I whined as I inadvertently bucked my hips to his hand. He pulled his hand away from my center, causing me to whine loudly. I stared at him in protest. “Yes, I understand,” I cried as I stared at him. He smiled before sticking his fingers between my lips. I sucked them clean, free of my arousal, as I stared at him. He smiled at me before pulling his fingers from my mouth and placing his hand on my jawline.

“Good girl,” he whispered. But the way he said it told me I wasn’t really a good girl. No, I knew I wasn’t a good girl. However, I was getting what I wanted, so who’s really winning and in charge? I just needed to be like this more often.

Matthew removed his hand from my face and down to his belt. Somehow, he managed to get his belt buckle undone with one hand, and managed to undo his pants. I looked down as he pulled himself out of his pants and boxers. I whined and tried to pull my hands. My hips ground into the seat beneath me to get some sort of pleasure.

“Wanna touch you,” I cried as I pulled my hands from his grip. He laughed as his grip on my wrists got a little tighter. “Please,” I whined looking between his face and down at his length. “Matthew, please,”

“You should have thought of that before that stunt you pulled,” he whispered before stroking himself a few times. I let out a loud whine and wiggled in my spot. He groaned slowly before lining himself up to my entrance.

I’ve never wanted to touch this man so badly in my entire life. I wanted to run my hands in his hair, tugging at the hair on the back of his head. I wanted to drag my hands all over his chest, leaving red scratchy marks in their wake. And I wanted to wrap my fingers and hands around his cock. He is killing me right now.

The head of his cock was pressed against me, causing me to inhale deeply. He smiled before slowly entering me. I struggled to stay still and quiet as he slowly bottomed out. I swallowed roughly as my breathing became ragged.

“Oh, Princess,” Matthew mocked as he looked down at me as he slowly started moving his hips. I whimpered as I continuously tried to pull my hands from his grip. A smile twitched on his lips again, further frustrating me. Bastard knows how to mess with me and I hated it more than anything in the world.

Matthew slowly, and carefully, picked up the pace of his hips. The way he brought his lips to mine made me feel dizzy. He knew how to kiss, with lips like his? Of course, he knew how to kiss. He carefully bit my lower lip before kissing his way down my jaw and to my neck. He left a small love bite on the nape of my neck, making it difficult to breathe. This level of excitement would kill me.

“Fuck,” I cried, throwing my head to the side. Matthew laughed and shook his head. A moan so loud, I swear it came from the pit of my stomach, came from my lips. He laughed again as he looked down at me

"You need to be a little quieter," he whispered into my ear. He clamped a hand over my mouth and nose to silence me. I whimpered against his hand and nodded.

He has to know how close I’m getting. I was about to be in more trouble than I already am. He keeps playing me the way he is. If he did anything else, I would be screwed. No, no wait. I already am screwed, or being screwed.

“You getting close,” he grunted. I sighed and nodded, trying to hold back a moan. His face twitched as he smiled at me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look too long at him. I knew if I kept my eyes on him I’d break. I can’t break now. He’s right though, I am getting close.

I nodded, as if my answer would give me what I wanted. He smiled before pressing his lips to mine in a rough way. When he finally pulled his hand from my wrists, I pushed my hands through his hair and kept them firmly placed on the back of his head. He groaned as I tugged lightly on his hair.

“Mmm,” I looked up at him as he pulled his head away from me. I bit my lips together and nodded. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer to me. My heels dug into his lower back as I gripped his tie with one hand.

Matthew hooked his arm under one of my knees and lifted my leg slightly to get a better angle. I cried when a burn started to grow in my hamstring, but also when he pressed deeper into me. I closed my eyes and pressed my head into the seat. I could feel myself getting closer. Maybe he forgot what he said?

And then he stopped his movements. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, feeling anger grow suddenly on my face. Matthew was looking down at me with a smile on his lips. Although, I knew it must’ve been hard for him to stop. He was just happy to see me suffer.

“I hate you. Please, please,” I pulled on his tie to bring him closer to my face. Matthew smiled at me before pressing his lips to mine. I whined against his lips. He laughed before slowly moving his hips again. “I’m so close,” I managed to get out through pants.

“Yeah,” he asked the obvious. I screwed my eyes shut and nodded. I’m sure if I had it in me, I would have been more than sarcastic. But I couldn’t even begin to try. I’m sure he would keep teasing me if I was sarcastic, so my best bet was to either stay quiet or let out a grotesque sound. I went with the latter. That seemed to please Matthew.

“Promise you won’t do that again,” he brought his hand to push my hair away from my face, before resting it on my cheek. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “Uh, use your words, Princess,”

“I… I promise…” I spoke, my voice was soft and shaky. I pressed both my hands flat on his chest as I looked up at him. He smiled softly and nodded.

“Come on, come for me,” he whispered, keeping his hips moving at a steady pace. After a moment, I felt my body snap and tighten around him. I threw my arms back around his neck as I buried my face into his body. I shouted his name when I reached my high. My body arched up into his, and he held me close.

Matthew’s movements faltered slightly and a groan fell from his lips. I could feel him release inside me as he rode out his orgasm. Oh, that bastard.

He gently rested me back down on the seat. I looked up at him and laughed, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. He looked down at me, smiled before laughing.

“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he mused as he moved away from me and sat at the way opposite end of the seat. I stayed lying down, watching as he tucked himself back in his pants.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” I smiled at him, watching as he went to the front seat. He moved a few things around before coming back to me with a handful of napkins and a pack of wet wipes. “I think I might have to break my promise and do that again,” I laughed at him again.

“Well, now we’re late, so I hope you’re happy,” he mumbled as he cleaned between my legs. I flinched at the coolness of the wipes. When he finished cleaning me up, as best he could, he grasped my hands and pulled me so I was sitting up. I looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, I got my fun,” I kissed his lips. I reached upfront for my bag and pushed Matthew out of the car. I quickly fixed my hair in the reflection of the window before following close behind him.

Of course, when we entered the restaurant, loud chatter came from the far side. Everything told me that it was Matthew’s friends doing all the talking.

“There he is!” A familiar and friendly voice shouted as we got closer to the table. I stood beside Matthew and smiled at him. “With his lovely girlfriend,”

“Kirsten! It’s great to see you,” I smiled at her when I saw who was talking. I walked around to embrace her. Shemar whispered something to Adam before looking over at Matthew, then at me, and then back at me.

"So sorry we're late," Matthew spoke as he pulled a chair out for me. I glanced at him before sitting. He sat beside me and smiled. "I forgot something at home and had to turn back to get it. And then the traffic here was awful." The lie he told was so easy. I'm impressed he told it so easily.

"And I needed to change. There was a stain on the front of my dress." I looked down at my dress that I’ve been in since we left the house. I did not change...

“You’re both walking like you just had sex,” Shemar looked between Matthew and I. I looked up at Matthew before looking at the table. I could feel my cheeks warm up. “You didn’t,”

“Yeah, we… we just had sex.” I muttered.

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champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

The Things We Do for Money

Summary: Your boss is a pain in the ass… sometimes

Warnings: Chris Evans x Reader, smut, oral (female receiving), a bit of drunk! Chris

Notes: I know Chris Evans has big brat energy and I needed to get it out of my system.

There was no one on this planet who could hate their job as much as you hate yours. Sometimes you’d curse yourself out for agreeing to take on this stupid assistants job, but you were in a pinch and desperately needed the money. Now here you are, stuck three months in with the most absurd and demanding boss. He always has you doing his bitch work for him.

Okay, you’ll run out and get him a coffee from time to time when he’s at work. You’ll go run the errands and make the phone calls he’s unable to make, but you drew the line the second he asked you to do the most dumbest tasks for him.

He started acting ridiculous literally a month into the job, when he called you at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. Turns out the dumbass couldn’t find his running shoes and you had schlepped yourself half an hour to his house only to find them under the bed the first minute of your arrival. Then, he’d call you for things like tying his shoe laces “because his hands were tired”, whatever the fuck that means, or picking out his evening wear when he’d go out with the guys (and he’d never end up liking what you picked out!)

Now here you are, in your cold ass car in the middle of a Boston winter, driving to your bosses house at the crack ass of dawn. You were annoyed because the night before he’d kept you up till late rattling off your To-Do list for the very next day, half the stuff would probably be scratched from the list anyways.

Your phone started to ring and you groaned knowing exactly who it was... BECAUSE WHO ELSE WAS UP THIS EARLY!?!?

“Yes, Chris,” you grumbled.

“Whoa, whoa, someone’s a little grouchy for 5:30 in the morning. Speaking of, you’re 30 minutes too late,” you wanted to cure the bastard out, but then he followed up with a laugh.

“Kidding, kidding, anyways, Assistant, I need a favor,” here we go…

“I’m your assistant, doing you favors is my job description, and I have a name you know.”

“Eh, Assistant suits you better. Anyways, if you could run to the shop and pick up my shoes for that award show I have later, oh, and schedule me a haircut would you? You know what to tell them,” this man was way too cheery for this early in the morning.

“No, it does not, the award show is three months away, and no, I do not know how you get your haircut, and I don’t want to know,” Chris responded with a low whistle.

“Gee, someone’s a little cranky monster. Let’s fix that frown before you come over okay?” you grit your teeth. Chris didn’t like a nasty attitude and he had the power to fire you for it.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you huffed and he hung up the phone after telling you a few more demands.

As much as this man was slowly pushing you towards your breaking point, the job came with perks. One of those being travel. You never had an opportunity to travel a lot and working for Chris gave you the chance. From Singapore to Australia, you finally got to see what was beyond your small town of Massachusetts.

Right now, you were in Atlanta where Chris was filming a new Marvel movie. You didn’t get to see much of the set, or the cast, or the inside of your bosses trailer, but you did get to see a lovely highway every couple hours while running around for that pain in the ass. However, when you got done you got to have lunch in Chris’ trailer without him, which was a big plus. Actually, every moment away from Chris was a true blessing.

“ASSISTANT” you groaned as you heard your name being called from outside the trailer. You put down your half eaten sandwich and swung open the trailer door. There stood Chris in his Captain America suit, arms crossed and tapping his foot.

“Yes, Mr. Evans?” Chris put a smile on his face and motioned you to come closer to him. You stepped closer, but he made you come even closer. You came as close to his mouth and he whispered in your ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” you pulled back from his lips with a confused expression.

“Uh, no. W-What time is it?”

“Time for you to help me out of this tight ass costume,” your eyes went wide in horror. Not this shit again.

“No, no, please Mr. Evans, can’t you ask someone else, like a male, to take off your costume,” you pleaded as marched past you.

“Nope, that’s why I hired an assistant, Assistant. Now hurry up, the boots are the hardest to get off,” you groaned and stepped into the trailer.

Chris sat down on the couch and motioned for you to get by his one boot. You grimaced and got to your knees and started to take the boot off. You tugged and tugged until it loosened a little. When it finally did, the whole room filled with a stench.

“Mr. Evans, ew, can’t you wear socks with these things,” Chris let out a deep chuckle and shook his head.

“Can’t do that or the boots will be too tight on my poor little feet,” he put out the other boot clad foot.

“Little is an understatement, sir,” Chris covered up his small groan with a clear of his throat.

“Well Assistant, you know what they say about big feet,” you choked on your spit and looked up at the man.

“They sign you big paychecks. Now hurry up, I’m getting drinks with the guys tonight,” you groaned again and worked the other boot off.

When the costume was fully off, averting your eyes where necessary, Chris was changing back into his regular clothes while a knock sounded at the door.

“Get that for me, Assistant,” you went to the door and swung it open and were faced with two of his co-workers, Anthony and Sebastian.

“Oh, assistant girl? We aren’t interrupting anything are we?” Anthony winked and Sebastian chuckled. Your cheeks were heating up at that comment when you felt Chris behind you.

“Yeah guys, just one second I gotta put on a shirt,” your eyes noticeably widened knowing Chris was right behind you, shirtless.

The men suppressed their laughter at your shocked expression. They probably thought you were sleeping with your boss! Oh god, listen, Chris wasn’t an unattractive man, hell no, but he was your boss (and also a pain in the ass), you couldn’t cross that sort of line.

“I’ll be going now, Assistant. Clean up for me and finish up that list,” Chris grabbed his wallet and left the trailer.

“Yes, Mr. Evans.”

Anthony and Sebastian stopped in their tracks to laugh a little. When Chris turned around to give them a ‘what’ look Anthony finally spoke.

“Yes, Mr. Evans. I’ll clean up the trailer and then clean you up later, sir,” Anthony mocked your voice as Chris punched his arm lightly.

That blare of your ringtone made you shoot up out of your peaceful sleep and clutch your heart. You peered over at the time to see that it was 3 a.m. Groaning, you ignored that call without seeing who it was and tried to sleep again, but then they called you back.

You turned your light on and grabbed your phone and saw that Chris was calling you. Pissed off and tired, you answered the phone with an angry ‘what’.

“Oh, Assistant, I need you,” Chris sounded like he was slurring his words. He was still at the bar?

“Mr. Evans? Are you drunk?”

“Yessssss, I made an oopsie and had tooooo much to drink. Can you pwetty pwease come pick me up. Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee…” he dragged out the last vowel as you started looking for your keys.

“Fine, but you’re paying me overtime for this,” you slide on your shoes and run out of the hotel room to go get the big drunken baby.

It took you awhile, but you finally found the bar Chris was at. Luckily, he has always shared his phone location with you for emergencies like these. It didn’t take long to find him either seeing as he was moping on the curb nursing a beer in his hands.

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car. Chris’ ears perked up at the sound of a door slamming shut and he immediately was smiling like a dope.

“ASSISTANT!” He screamed and held his arms out for you. The people passing by on the sidewalk gave him dirty looks.

“Chris, shhhh, let’s get you back into the car, okay?”

“HEY! THAT’S MR. EVANS TO YOU or sir if you want to spice things up,” he barely whispered and gave you a wink. Scoffing, you shoved him into your tiny car before he took off down the street.

The drive back to Chris’ Atlanta home was a bit of a drive, but there was not much traffic on the road so it would be quicker than usual. Chris was falling asleep in the passengers seat, but would come to every so often to slur something stupid. This time, when his head went up to speak to you his words were loud and clear.

“You’re pretty,” your cheeks were heating up, but it was too dark to see.

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”

“And kind, sweet, lovely,” he was showering you with compliment after compliment and you didn’t know how to respond.

“I like you, Assistant,” you tried to keep your composure, but you were stunned. He was drunk so that meant nothing, right?

“I would figure since you keep me around all the time,” you laughed off.

“Noooo, I really like you. Not in a “like” you, but in a “like like” like you way,” his body was now fully turned to face you.

“Oh, well, Mr. Evans I’m flattered, but you’re my boss. I can’t ruin our professional relationship,” Chris let out a whine just as you were pulling up to his house and getting out of the car.

“Then as your boss, I demand you to like like me,” you laughed as you opened the car door for him to get out.

“Mr. Evans, you know we can’t allow that,” you tried your best to joke with him, but he kept up pestering you.

“How about a thank you for helping me get home,” you furrowed your brows as Chris unlocked his door and was leaning up on the threshold.

“Umm, Mr. Evans I-,” you didn’t get a chance to finish because Chris grabbed your face and was leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips.

Your eyes were probably wider than they have ever been in your lifetime. Chris Evans was kissing you. Chris Evans was kissing his assistant. Chris Evans was drunk and kissing a woman who he signs her paychecks for every week.

He pulled back a few moments later with a satisfied look on his face. He was still stumbling drunk, but it seemed as if he didn’t care. Chris had a cocky grin on his face while looking at your frozen expression.

“Um, Mr. Evans, um. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and you sprinted back to your car and pulled out of the driveway, not even glancing back at your boss.

It had been a while since the whole drunk kiss incident. The day after that night you didn’t bring up what had happened and neither did Chris.

You assumed that he was so drunk that he probably forgot about the kiss. To be fair, he didn’t even remember him calling you to come pick him up or the whole drive back home. He must’ve forgotten about the kiss and you intended to never bring it up.

Things between you and your boss went back to normal after that. You were still dealing with his antics and absurdities, but it paid your bills so you couldn't complain. However, Chris seemed to be lenient with you nowadays.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but he definitely changed his demeanor recently. He let you come into work an hour later than usual, anytime you said you were unable to do something he let it slide, and he also had given you a raise out of nowhere. Maybe he was changing…

“ASSISTANT,” nevermind…

“ASSISTANT!” you followed Chris’ voice to the backyard where he was standing by the pool.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you rolled your eyes.

“Assistant, can you do me a favor?”

“Will I get fired for saying no?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is it,” you walked over to him as he started to take off his shirt.

“I want to go for a swim, but I don’t want to miss an important phone call I should be getting.”

“And?”

“And I want you to sit out here and watch my phone till it rings,” you looked at him in disbelief. He really wants you to babysit a phone?

“Are you serious? You just want me to sit out here and stare at your phone?”

“Well, I’d invite you to join me in the pool, but you don’t have a swimsuit,” Chris scoffed and jumped into the pool.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat on the lounge chair. If you were going to babysit his phone you might as well relax a bit. Plus, you didn’t mind the little show you were getting courtesy of Chris.

About an hour went by and still no phone call. Chris had been busy swimming laps in his pool and playing with Dodger who would jump in for a swim. Either Chris was pulling your leg just so you could watch him or this phone call was never happening. You’d think after an hour someone would call soon.

You moved to get up and go back in the kitchen to answer some emails to the rest of Chris’ team when he called for you to come back.

“Mr. Evans, it’s been an hour and no one has called. I have work to do, I can’t stand around all day watching you swim and wait for your phone to ring. You’re a big boy you can do it,” you didn’t hear him get out, but Chris was hot on your tail as you entered back in the house.

“So, you were watching me, huh,” you tried your best to hide the blush creeping up on your face.

“Not the point, sir. I need to get back to work,” Chris clicked his tongue between his teeth.

“Alright, while you get back to work, I’ll be in the shower,” you went back to your computer and hummed in agreement with his plans.

You heard a ruffle of clothing hit the floor as you looked up from your laptop screen. You gasped in horror as you saw Chris had shucked his bottoms off right in front of you and turned to walk to the bathroom. You put your head down as he turned around to look at you with a satisfied smirk.

The faint sound of the shower running filled the silence for a few minutes as you contemplated your next move. The swim shorts stayed where they were and you refused to pick them up. You still couldn’t get the image of your boss and his bare ass out of your head.

What did this mean now for your job?

“Assistant,” you froze at the sound of Chris’ voice, “I need you.”

“Now?”

“Yes, it’s urgent,” he sounded anxious.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you said from behind the cracked door.

“Can you get me a towel from the closet? I forgot mine.”

You went to grab him a towel and stuck your hand through the door. When you didn’t feel him take the towel from you you got worried.

“Mr. Evans,” you called out.

All of a sudden the door opened and you were face to face with a naked Chris Evans. You kept your wide eyes on his and pushed the towel to his chest.

“Assistant, I need some help getting dry,” you were stumbling over your words, but not for long until Chris pulled you in the bathroom with him and brought your hands up to his chest.

You kept your eyes on him and you dried off his upper body. Chris looked into your eyes with adoration and a hint of lust. This was getting too serious way too fast, you went to pull away, but he grabbed your wrists.

“You know, I meant what I said. You are very pretty,” you gasped.

“Chris,” he pulled you closer until your lips touched. Fuck it. You couldn’t fight this anymore. This gorgeous man wanted you and a part of you wanted this pain in the ass too.

The kiss started slow, but descended into something so raw and animalistic. Your tongues were all over each other’s mouths and your teeth were scraping and hitting together. Chris pushed you up against the bathroom door and moved his lips to your neck.

“So good, wanted you for so fucking long,” he continued to kiss down your neck to the collar of your shirt.

“I want this off, now Y/N,” you gasped again. That was the first time he ever used your real name.

You couldn’t deny his orders, so you happily took off your shirt, bra included, and threw them on the floor. Chris went to praise you for being so good and attacked your sensitive buds.

He scraped, licked, and sucked gently on each nipple, giving him all the attention they deserved. You moaned loudly and he went to kiss you again. He pressed himself into your thigh and started to grind.

“All for you, baby. It’s all for you,” you let out a breathy moan.

“Please, Chris, please, sir. I want it,” Chris growled in response.

His hands began to wander. They rubbed up and down your sides before they inched their way towards your center. Chris took his one hand and put it under your shorts. You whimpered as he went and rubbed your center in teasing strokes.

“Chris, please,” he removed his hand and opened the bathroom door.

“Patience, baby,” Chris picked up your shaking body and carried you throughout the house towards his bedroom.

He kicked opened the door and laid you down on the bed. Chris removed your shorts and stood back to admire your bare body. His thumbs drew small circles around your hips as he looked up at you with dark eyes.

Chris connected his lips with the top of your belly button and started to kiss downwards. He came in contact with your pussy, but wouldn’t kiss it. His lips ghosted yours, his beard was scratching the surrounding area. It seemed as if time had stopped when all of a sudden he attacked your core.

Your hands flew down to his hair and began to pull at the roots. Chris groaned into your pussy as you arched your hips into his mouth. He brought his thumb to your clit and started to rub fast and hard circles. You were so close to cumming, but you could barely form the words.

You tried to tell him, but it felt so good and he was doing all the right things to restrict your speech. The tiny bubble within you had grown bigger and bigger and was going to pop any second. Chris started to thrust two fingers in you while his lips sucked your clit and that’s when it happened.

“Holy fuck,” you looked up with a heaving chest to see Chris’ beard, lips, and fingers soaked. His eyes grew darker as he grabbed your chin and kissed your breath away.

“Fucking squirted all over me baby, how you gonna clean me up?” He nuzzled his face into your neck and started to pepper kisses all over.

You were at a loss for words, but your body was doing all the talking. Your hips started to thrust up into Chris’ thigh and he looked down with a smirk.

“I know you want it, honey. Give me one second,” Chris moved off your body and made his way to his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a condom and rolled it on.

Now, he was back on top of you and drinking you in. You kissed one more time before he lifted your leg over his shoulder and positioned himself at your sensitive entrance.

“You sure?” You shook your head rapidly at his question.

“Yes, get on with it, sir,” he smirked as he entered you.

The stretch hurt, but the pain was replaced with pleasure as he started to thrust. He started off slow, careful not to hurt you, but he was going deeper into your pussy. You cried and slapped his bicep, urging him to go faster.

“If that’s what baby wants, then that’s what baby will get,” and Chris went into overdrive.

You screamed his name and moaned so loud that you were sure the neighbors would hear you. Chris loved hearing those sweet noises and was doing all he could to make them louder. You were reaching a second high, but Chris was still keeping a brutal pace.

“Chris, I’m about to cum.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. We aren’t finished this just yet,” he grabbed your other leg and threw it over his shoulder, attempting a deeper angle.

Chris kissed you with all his might. His tongue evaded your mouth once more and his thrusts were getting faster and faster. A sweat broke out on him and he was getting close.

“Baby, you can let go whenever you want,” a final scream ripped through you as you arched your back and came for the second time.

Chris fucked you even harder through your orgasm. He wanted to fuck your pussy so that it was be sensitive for the next couple days. He wanted you to never forget this moment.

Tears formed in your eyes as he kept going. You were trying to keep up, but your body started to get weak. Chris noticed this and worked faster to get himself to the edge.

When he finally came, it felt as if his eyes had rolled back up into his head. He was sweaty and growing tired, but he didn’t want to leave your pussy yet. He knew he had to because the position you were in was starting to get uncomfortable. Chris finally removed himself and threw the condom out.

He saw your eyes were dropping and quickly picked you up to take you to the bathroom. He let you do your business and went to grab you a bottle of water.

When you came out of the bathroom, with shaky legs, Chris was there with a water bottle by the bedside table and the sheets drawn back waiting for you to get in beside him. You gladly accepted the comfy spot next to him and soon you drifted off to sleep.

When you finally woke up, you felt something heavy weighing down across your abdomen. Your eyes shot up as you looked around a room you didn't recognize. As if right on que, Chris groans beside you and opens his eyes. He smiled and pressed you closer to his body and gave you a sweet kiss to your temple.

“Evening,” Chris buried himself in your hair as you lifted your head to look out the window, confirming it was night.

“What time is it?” your voice was strained.

“Close to 11. Didn’t think we’d be out for this long,” he winked and for a moment you forgot why you were in his bed.

“OH MY GOD,” you gasped and shot up and Chris followed suit.

“WHAT? WHAT’S WRONG?”

“WE HAD SEX!”

“I KNOW I WAS THERE. WHY ARE YOU YELLING?” Chris matched your voice.

“I’M YELLING BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BOSS. I SLEPT WITH MY FUCKING BOSS,” you slammed your head back down on the pillow and buried your face in it. You only lifted your head off the pillow to hear him laughing at you.

“I get why you’re laughing, but I’m not. I’m a slut,” Chris laid back down next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“Hey, hey, you are not a slut. Please don’t think of yourself that way,” he cradled you into his arms.

“I did the one thing that nobody is supposed to do. I shouldn’t have ruined our professional relationship,” you tried to break free from Chris’ hold, but you wouldn’t let you go.

“Listen to me, you did not do anything wrong. I wanted to ask you out for a long time… I just, well, you see-”

“You got piss ass drunk and ruined your plans,” you giggled into his bare chest.

“That’s one way of putting it, yeah,” and he laughed along with you.

“So, I guess this means I should resign now shouldn’t I?”

“Not necessarily no, I still need my assistant.”

“So I get to sleep with you AND be on payroll? Wow, what a dream come true,” Chris laughed some more.

“We don’t have to tell anybody for a while. I’ll help you find a new job so it won’t look so fishy whenever we tell people we are dating.”

“I don’t know, I am gonna miss that fat Christmas bonus I get every year…”

“I think I can think of a way to make up for that,” Chris’ hand was stroking up and down your thigh which made you shudder.

You turned to kiss him as you hummed in agreement. Things started to get hot and heavy once more and soon the sheets were pushed off the bed, Chris was attacking your lower half with kisses. Right when he got to your center, his phone rang.

“You wanna get that for me, Assistant?”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #marvel smut #chris evans one shot #captain america #captain america smut #captain america x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader

517 notes · View notes

aliendes · 4 years

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BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.1

gifs are not mine!

From this ask: hi, i wanted to request a bts reaction to them saying something hurtful in an argument and instantly regretting it? pls i need some angst/fluff 🥺

AN: WOOO this was a long one. Thank you for the request anon! I know you said angst/fluff, but this was a lot to write lol. This was my first time writing an angsty reaction. I typically write angsty stories, but not reactions, so this was fun! This is part one, if you want a part two, comment/send an ask! I’ll write it if there is interest. THIS IS UNEDITED I’M SORRY - Taehyung’s hurted they all hurted.

Warnings: cursing, name calling, mentions of mental illnesses (schizophrenia), being mean? Just really angsty ya’ll - I’m sorry! Oh and a tiny mention of blood, but it’s nothing serious.

Word count: 4.8k~

Hearing the front door slam shut, you sit up straight in bed. Seokjin is home. You smile softly to yourself and look over at your bedside table. It’s 3:38 in the morning, way later than your boyfriend typically gets home, even during comeback promotions, and they didn’t have a comeback any time soon. Confused, you pulled the covers back and swung your legs out of bed. Walking over to your bedroom door, you slip on your house slippers and quietly open the door.

Walking down the hallway, you immediately hear rummaging in the kitchen drawers. What is going on? When you round the corner, you are met with the sight of your tall boyfriend, dark hair a mess, rifling through your junk drawer in the kitchen.

“Jin?” you asked, voice still sleepy and brow furrowed.

Seokjin whips his head in your direction, ceasing his movements in the drawer. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he looks pale, like he hasn’t slept in days. You knew this to be false, since you slept in the same bed last night. “God damnit, YN!” he roared, walking towards you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your body and stiffened as he neared you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry,” you muttered, unsure of where Jin’s sudden anger was coming from, “I heard you-”

“You heard the door slam? Yeah, no shit, babe.” Jin walked up to you and was towering over you. You couldn’t decide if you thought he was mad at you or just mad in general. All you knew is that he was fuming. Jin never gets mad, so this had you all the more confused. Just as you were about to ask what was wrong, Jin stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. You were left standing, gaping towards him, in the middle of the hallway.

It takes you a moment to get a grip on reality again, but soon after you’re stumbling down the hall back towards your bedroom. You’re feeling a little upset by Jin’s attitude, but you chalk it up to a long day at work. Not thinking too much harder about it, you decide to just get back in bed, it is nearly 4 am now.

As you walk through the bedroom door, you find all the lights on. You squint your eyes and bring your forearm up to your head to block the bright lights from hurting your eyes. Just as you reach the bed, Jin comes out of your walk-in closet.

“I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you?” he taunts at the sight of you blocking your eyes, voice nothing like his typical calm and sweet demeanor.

At this, you decide you’ve had enough. Sitting up from your place on the bed, you spin around and face your usually loving boyfriend. “Seokjin! What is the matter with you?” you try to voice calmly, but it comes out a little more high-pitched than you would like. You throw your arms up in defeat and let them fall limply to your sides.

“Wrong with me? What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?! You’re the one who can’t seem to put things away!”

You blanch. What was he talking about? “What?”

“My fucking flash drive with all my lyrics on it!” he roars, stomping closer to you. You backup a step as he nears, making him pause and stare down at you. “You were the last one who had it, you wanted to take a look at the songs, wanted to give me ‘feedback’”, he uses air quotes, which only makes you angrier, he had asked you to give him feedback. “Now I can’t fucking find it because you can never put stuff away, you’re always so fucking messy!” he yells, taking the last few steps towards you so he’s looking down at you in an intimidating way. There is no way you’re taking this from him.

You wrap your arms around yourself again and head straight for the closet and throw on leggings and a sweatshirt.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Jin yells, following you around as you quickly change, “you just gonna leave your messes like always?”

You abruptly stop what you’re doing and send him a glare, “Jin,” you breathe, “I’m trying not to let your shit mood ruin our relationship. Let me. Fucking. Go.” You push past him, shoes in hand, and head straight for your front door. Shoving your feet into your tennis shoes, you grab your backpack and keys, and slam the front door shut on your way out.

Your boyfriend is left standing, dumbfounded, in your shared bedroom. As he looks around him, he realizes what he’s just done. He’s been so caught up in the shit storm today has been that he took it out on you for no reason. It all started this afternoon when his manager asked him for his songs and he couldn’t find the flash drive, then he couldn’t get the choreo right at practice, and he couldn’t even get dinner because of how busy their schedules were. But all of that was no excuse for how he just treated you. In his reverie, he doesn’t hear the slam of the front door.

Seokjin rushes out into the living room, hands running through his hair as he attempts to chase after you. He looks to the front door, frantically searching for you. He sees that your bag is missing and your keys are no longer on the key hook. Grabbing his jacket, he rushes out the front door, not even bothering to grab his phone or his wallet, just trying to get to you as quickly as possible before he loses you for good.

“W-what?” your bottom lip trembles as you stare at your hot headed boyfriend. Staring across from his studio from you, are his dark eyes, narrowed and focused on your retreating figure. He had just called you the one thing you didn’t think he would ever throw in your face, he was the one person you never imagined calling you that. “Y-Yoongi-”

“You heard me, YN,” he bites back, “stop acting fucking crazy.”

There it was again. That word. Crazy. He knows it’s a soft spot for you. Your mom was diagnosed with schizophrenia when you were twelve, and you had a rough childhood growing up with her. You knew it ran in the family, and you’ve been terrified of the diagnosis for years, aware that it usually occurs in your early twenties. Yoongi was well aware of this fact, too. He tells you constantly that you are not, in fact, crazy, and that you aren’t going to end up like your mother. But now, standing across from you with his arms folded over his chest, he’s now said it. Twice. And for what? Because you’ve been on his ass the last couple of days about coming home from the studio, begging him to take a break? That was his reasoning. Despite you knowing it’s not true, it still hurt you beyond belief to hear those words coming from the only person in the whole world who insists they would never call you something like that, and now he’s stooping so low because he wants to hurt you.

You back all the way up until the metal doorknob of Yoongi’s studio door is pushing into your lower back painfully. The feeling grounds you for a moment as you shake your head back and forth quickly, trying to remove the thoughts that your boyfriend has planted there. “I have to go,” you whisper, staring down at the ugly gray colored carpet.

Reaching behind you, eyes still trained on the floor, you crack open the door before turning and slipping out of it. Once the door is closed behind you, you take a second to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, closing your eyes tightly. You think you hear movement coming from the studio, but you don’t dare look back. Instead, you take off running down the hallway, unsure of where you were headed, just knowing you needed to get out of there.

On your way out of the building, you don’t notice Jungkook yelling after you, nor do you notice that you’d forgotten your bag, jacket, and phone in Yoongi’s studio. You just run.

Back in his studio, Yoongi is contemplating his life choices. Lips pressed together tightly, he sits in his comfy chair and leans his head back. He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to burn in hell for what he just did to you. He knows it, yet he won't go after you. He knows you need time away from him.

Yoongi is startled out of his thoughts by the maknae bursting through his door, hand over his heart, panting from the exertion of running up two flights of stairs.

“Hyung,” Jungkook pants, “It’s YN, sh-she looked really upset, I-I tried to stop her but it was like she couldn’t hear me.”

“I know,” Yoongi says blankly, still staring at his computer.

Jungkook blanches, lips in a small ‘o’ as he lightly shakes his head back and forth in confusion. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I’m the reason she’s upset.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the back of his edler’s head, “Hyung, she looked more than ‘upset’. She looked distraught.” Jungkook was getting mad at his member, unsure why he would be okay with you looking the way you did just now.

“I’ll deal with it later, Kook,” he grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face, “leave it alone.”

“No, Yoongi,” he dropped the honorific, making Yoongi turn around in his chair to stare at his usually overly polite friend, “if you aren’t going after her, I am. Look-” he points to the coffee table, “all her shit is here. You’re really going to let her go like that?”

Yoongi glances at your stuff. Your bag, jacket, and phone are sitting right there in front of him. Shit. He sighs. “I fucked up.”

Walking into your apartment after work, you weren’t expecting to find Hoseok home. He usually doesn’t get home from work until really late at night, unless he’s off. Did you mix up the days again?

Dropping your bag by the front door, you toe off your shoes and head down the hallway towards the sound of loud music playing. When you reach Hoseok’s home studio door, you gently knock three times, before pushing it open.

Hoseok is sitting at his desk, a pair of headphones on, music programs open on his laptop. Smiling warmly, you walk over to him, placing your hands softly on his shoulders. You didn’t expect him to startle so violently, but he jumped at your touch, ripping his headphones off his head and standing up from his seated position. It all happened so quickly, it scared you and you jumped backwards, nearly tripping on the fuzzy rug behind you.

“Fuck! YN!” he roared, eyes heated and narrowed at you, “Can’t you fucking see that I’m working?!”

You took another step backwards, eyes blinking rapidly to stop the onset of tears that were threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry Seok, I-I,”

“You what?” he asked menacingly, “You’re too dumb to notice my headphones. I’m working. Leave me alone.” Hoseok turns around, grabbing his headphones roughly and sits back down in his chair.

You swallow thickly, hot tears burning your eyes, as you take another step backward. This time, you aren’t as lucky, and your heel catches on the rug. In shock, you don’t catch yourself on the way down, falling right on your tailbone, probably bruising it. But in your state of disbelief, you don’t even feel it.

Hoseok turns around at the loud thump, only to notice you on the floor, tears streaming down your face. Instantly, he regrets everything he just said to you. He’s had a bad day at work, unable to get any lyrics down on paper, and he just took it out on you. His eyes soften, but you don’t notice, too focused on scrambling to your feet and stumbling back down the hallway towards the front door.

Hoseok stands, walking after you quickly, “YN- wait!”

But it’s too late, you’re already gone. You slipped on your heels and burst through the front door, still in your work clothes. Hoseok runs his long fingers through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, letting out a roar of anger. Could this day get any worse?

It’s been a rough week in yours and Namjoon’s household. At the start of the week, your car broke down, resulting in you having to borrow his, which resulted in him being late for practice multiple times this week. On Wednesday, there was a security breach in your company's database, making it so all employees on your floor had to work from home while they investigated. This meant you and Namjoon were spending more time together throughout the week, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but your boyfriend has been extremely stressed about the new album that’s being released at the end of the year, and having you at home while he’s trying to write has been incredibly distracting. All of this has resulted in more petty arguments between the two of you, which seemed to come to a head tonight.

“Joon, please put your laundry in the basket,” you grumble, picking up his dirty sweats and throwing them into the hamper you shared, “I’m working from home for now and I would like it to be clean.”

“Just because your job sent you home doesn’t mean you can hang around all day and tell me what to do. We’ve been living together for two years, YN, you know I leave clothes around.”

You did know that, and you were sure that if you weren’t stuck in the house all day, it wouldn’t bother you. Much like it hasn’t for the last two years, like Namjoon said. But for whatever reason, the tension between the two of you was high. Both of you were looking for little things to fight about.

“Namjoon, please, just clean up after yourself,” you were exhausted. You didn’t want to argue with him, you just wanted to get back to your data report, but he had other ideas.

“Can’t you just shut up for once?” Namjoon sneers, looking at you through narrowed eyes, arms crossed over his chest, and leaning against the doorframe.

“Excuse me?” you bite back, turning around and glaring at your tall boyfriend, who was now walking towards you, arms still crossed.

“You heard me, YN,” he growled, “just shut up and leave me alone. You’re always nagging me, it’s fucking annoying.”

That was it. You didn’t even offer a response, instead, turning around and grabbing your laptop. Walking over to the closet, you grab a backpack and shove some clothes and your laptop inside it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, coming towards you, “Where are you going?” His last sentence sounded a bit more panicked, the edge to his voice gone.

“What does it look like, Namjoon?” you scoffed, still stuffing things into your bag, “You literally just told me to leave you alone. No problem.” Shoving the last of your stuff into your bag, you stomp out of the room, grabbing your phone, purse and keys from the coffee table.

“YN-”

“No, Namjoon. You said to leave you alone,” you said blankly, staring up at his dark eyes, “goodbye.”

You turn on your heel and open the door, letting it slam shut behind you.

Smiling to yourself, you push the button in the elevator, watching the sleek chrome doors close in front of you. You’d just picked up Jimin’s favorite takeout and we’re bringing it up to him in the practice room. It was your weekly routine, every Thursday after your last class, you’d come and have an early dinner with him before his late practice.

Stepping off the elevator, you could hear the loud music coming from down the hall in the practice room. Smiling even brighter at the thought of seeing your sweet boyfriend, you make your way down the hallway with the warm food in your arms.

Pushing the door open with your foot, you instantly see Jimin and Hoseok dancing in the middle of the room. Deciding to not be a bother, you head to the corner and set the food down on the table, carefully taking everything out and plating it. After a few minutes, you hear the music cut off and Jimin and Hoseok talking intensely across the room. You don’t really pay attention, not one to eavesdrop, and patiently wait for your boyfriend to be done.

After a few moments of what sounded like arguing, Jimin walks over to the table, placing a hand on the small of your back and leaning over to kiss the top of your head. You smile at the gesture, but when you turn around, it’s not Jimin, but your best friend, Hoseok in his place. “Hey bub,” he whispers, leaning down to speak into your ear, “I think you should go home.”

“What do you mean? It’s Thursday…” you trail off, looking behind your bubbly best friend to see your boyfriend, sulking in the corner, arms crossed, sitting on the floor. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hoseok says gently, smiling down at you, “I’m sure he’ll tell you later, but you know how he gets.” You nodded, because yes, you do know when he gets into these moods, he’s hard to talk to.

“Okay, just let me make sure he’s okay,” you start to walk towards your boyfriend's small frame, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, bub.” Turning towards Hoseok, you smile up at him, but he doesn’t return the gesture, sending worry down your spine.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, turning back towards Jimin. You don’t see the way Hoseok winces when you walk towards the younger man and crouch down next to him.

“Jimin?” you ask sweetly, making him glance up at you before fixing his gaze on the wall.

“Please leave, YN,” he says flatly.

“I am. But, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and to let you know that I left food-”

“You never fucking listen, YN!” Jimin screamed, standing up and making you fall back onto your butt. The force of the fall makes a loud thump on the wooden floor, making Hoseok rush over to make sure you’re okay. “I told you to leave!” You flinch as Jimin’s arms fly up in frustration.

Helping you up, Hoseok sends a pointed look at his friend, “Jimin,” he warns. Like a flip was switched, Jimin’s eyes instantly softened at the sight of you cowering in fear on the floor, your face pushed into Hoseok’s chest. Jimin realizes what he’s just done and immediately pulls his arms down to the side, horrified at himself for scaring you like that.

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly.

Wiping tears from your wet cheeks, you allow Hoseok to stand you up straight, before you’re taking off out of the practice room and back into the elevator you came up on.

Hoseok sighs, watching your back as you fly down the hallway. When he turns to look at Jimin, the younger man realizes that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. At the realization of what he’s just done, he breaks down, knees hitting the floor, face falling into his hands. Hoseok doesn’t help him, he just walks away, in search of his broken best friend.

Taehyung lets his duffle bag slip off his shoulder and hit the floor with a muted thump. Walking further into your shared apartment, he sees your half-eaten dinner sitting in the kitchen sink, his portion packed away and on the countertop. He lets out a sigh at the sight. He knew he should’ve been home hours ago, knew he should’ve texted you to let you know, but it slipped his mind. He was so caught up at practice, he couldn’t be bothered to go and find his phone.

Taehyung has had a really long day. First thing this morning, he was yelled at by his manager about something he had posted on Weverse the night before, and then it escalated into having to talk about the lyrics for his new song that he hasn’t been able to finish. He knows he’s been walking on thin ice with the company lately, but things have been getting better, or at least he thought they were.

Walking down the hall he noticed that your bedroom light is off, which is unusual. He checked his watch, it’s only 11 pm, not that late in your book. You were usually up until 1 or 2 in the morning.

Pushing open the door, he sees your small frame curled up under the thin sheet on the bed, comforter pushed onto the floor. Upon hearing the door creak, you sit up slightly, turning towards the source of the sound.

“Taehyung?” you whisper into the darkness, not yet having fallen asleep, but incredibly exhausted from your workout earlier.

“Hey,” he responds quietly. You can hear in his voice that something is wrong, and you immediately scramble to get out of bed and over to your boyfriend.

“What’s wrong, honey?” you ask sweetly, looking at him through dark lashes. You’re so beautiful, even in your sleepy state that it almost hurts him. You’re too good for him. Always so caring and kind, even when he’s been the absolute opposite towards you. How can you always be so happy and optimistic? Even when the world is against you? He envies your positivity, and some days he wishes you would rub off on him a bit more.

“Nothing,” he grunts, shaking your hand off his arm. The look of hurt that flashes across your face hurts his heart. He knows he’s being bitter and has no reason to be, sometimes it’s just hard being around your bubbly self when he’s become so self-loathing, “Just go to sleep.”

“Tae?”

“What,” it comes out harsher than he meant it to, making you flinch, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Did I- did I do something?” you ask quietly, biting your bottom lip a little too hard, nervous for his answer.

He lets out a rough sigh, “Yeah, actually,” he starts, “why can’t you just leave me alone for once? Just because you’re always happy and in a good mood, doesn’t mean I am.”

You shake your head in confusion, “I- I know, Tae. I’m sorry if my mood upsets you-”

“Stop!” he roars, making you step back, “Just, stop, okay?! Stop apologizing, stop being so nice, stop being so fucking perfect!”

You’re so taken aback and dumbfounded, you can’t think of words to say, instead forming a small ‘o’ with your lips and sulking backwards. You attempt to make yourself as small as possible, arms wrapped around your middle, head bowed low, as he continues his barrage.

“Just because you’re the fucking poster child for positivity doesn’t mean that everyone else has to be, too! I wish you would just get mad sometimes. You aren’t normal, YN!” The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows he fucked up. He doesn’t want you to get mad, he loves your personality. It’s one of the reason he absolutely fucking adores you. He doesn’t ever want you to be mad, or sad, but yet, as you stare back at him with glassy eyes and a bloody lip from how hard you’re biting it, all he sees is sadness. “YN- I,” he starts, but you’re already running into your shared bathroom and locking the door behind you.

He rushes towards the door but is too late, feeling a gust of air blow off of it from the force of being closed. Pushing his forehead against the cold wood, he lets out another sigh. Before he even has a chance to speak, he hears your broken sobs right on the other side. You must be leaning against the door, too. His heart crumbles into pieces at the fact that he just broke you. The love of his life, his sunshine, his world.

Singing to yourself, you dance around your kitchen, prepping all the vegetables you have laid out for your dinner tonight. You were making a simple stew with vegetables and beef. It was one of Jungkook’s favorite recipes of yours and since he was off tomorrow, you wanted to surprise him with a nice cooked meal.

Entering the apartment, Jungkook instantly smelled food cooking from the kitchen. It smelled heavenly, but his sour mood from the day and the fight he had earlier with Namjoon was enough to make him not hungry for whatever it was that you were cooking.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he drops his keys on the marble countertop, startling you. You gasp, dropping the knife you were holding onto the cutting board, instantly pulling your hand to your chest. Turning around, you notice your boyfriend staring at you curiously.

“Fuck, YN,” he says, rushing over to you, “let me see.”

You hold your hand out to him, finger stinging in pain and eyes filling with tears at the feeling. He takes your hand carefully, looking over the superficial cut. “It’s not that deep, YN. Just get a bandaid.”

He releases your hand and you blink up at your normally kind and caring boyfriend. You could see the bags under his eyes and the exhausted look on his face, but something else was hiding just under the surface. You sniffle a couple times, fighting back the tears from cutting yourself.

“I uh - I’m making dinner,” you say, trying to change the subject, embarrassed about cutting yourself and worried that he might be mad at you, “it should be done soon.”

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters, heading to the fridge to grab a water bottle, “I’ll be in the office.”

“Kook,” you say, walking after him, “wait, are you oka-”

Before you could finish your sentence, your foot was catching on the kitchen rug, making you slip and fall forward directly into Jungkook’s back.

Turning around just in time to catch you, Jungkook picks you up and stands you back up. “Jesus, YN,” he grumbles, “how fucking clumsy can you be?”

“W-what?” you ask, clutching your still bleeding finger to your chest.

“You’re like a child, you can’t do anything on your own. You’d probably end up burning the house down if I wasn’t here.”

You were shocked. Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before. Never in the three years you’ve been together has he been this cold. Never has he made fun of your clumsiness before, always claiming he thought it was a cute quirk of yours.

Huffing a sigh, Jungkook turns back around and heads down the hall to his office. Still shell shocked, you sink to the floor, mind reeling from his words. A child? Did he really think that of you? In a daze, you don’t realize the blood dripping onto the floor, mixing with salty tears.

Once Jungkook closes the door to his office, he pushes his forehead against the frame, realizing what he’s just said. He was mad at Namjoon, not you, and he was finding reasons to take it out on you. He’s never been so cruel to you, and he instantly regrets it, wanting to find you and make it right.

Speed-walking towards the kitchen, he notices the stove top still on, vegetables boiling, but you’re nowhere to be found. He quickly shuts off the burner. Maybe there was some truth to his words. No, he shakes the thought off, now is not the time. Stepping around the kitchen counter, he steps into a small puddle of blood and water… or were those tears? Shit.

He hurries into the living room, calling your name, but you aren’t there either. Heading back down the hall to check the bedroom, he sees the front door is open and your bag is missing. Eyes screwed shut, Jungkook lets out a long sigh. He really fucked up.

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook angst #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #bts reaction

667 notes · View notes

infini-tree · 3 years

Text

FANFIC: in post

Summary: A unexpected reunion takes place. Captain may be the one who starts it, but its Benjamin who ends it.

A/N: (alternate title - i don’t know what possessed me to write this post in fic form, but its here now and you all have to deal with it)

in post stuff isn’t going to be an ongoing multi-chapter thing, let alone in order, but just a place to put all the little drabbles I have. Unlike what the name suggests not all of them happen after the main story of the AU, though this one definitely does. The only way I can imagine this is after years after the main story has wrapped up.

though lbr i mostly because I got tired of trying to figure out titles for WIPs.

And just in case: slight content warning for verbal abuse from a parent. Its nothing explicit and is just a flashback, but it does take up the entire paragraph chunk its in and starts with “Suddenly he was back at his living room”.

——–

Captain comes back to a gymnasium full of people and music, which wasn’t the weirdest part. Nor was the fact that the people were grown-ups.

No, the weirdest part was that the gym wasn’t the one he had come to associate with Jerome Horwitz. Though, it was difficult to appreciate the novelty; between the sudden noise and people, he feels out of his depth.

His body moved automatically. Every accidental bump into someone was a shock, each trumpet blare was like a blow to his skull, and he dimly recalled thinking ah, that’s it when hearing the sound of snapping in the music. The clothes, while leagues comfier than his counterpart’s go-to, it was still there.

After what felt like ages of wading through a sea of people, he stumbled into a hallway just as unfamiliar as the gym. He really, really wanted to get out of this place quickly-- or at least, bring Benjamin back to deal with whatever this place is himself.

(Which bears the question: why did Benjamin come here? Parties aren’t exactly his Thing.)

The music faded as he moved away from the gymnasium, which helped a little. Captain forced himself to look around. The walls looked the same as Jerome Horwitz was, but if the details were reshuffled. The lockers were in different places, the corridors weren’t exactly where he expected them to be and neither were the bulletin boards with posters on it-- wait, posters!

There were a lot of random stuff about clubs and other announcements, but one stood out. Its top edges curled in on itself, so he couldn’t read the top part, but the rest read: REUNION.

“Welcome back, class of--” Captain repeated, until--

Someone cleared their throat. He leapt up in the air with a short yell, nearly stumbling over his shoe-covered feet.

The newcomer winced, but nonetheless stayed silent. If the Waistband Warrior could describe her, then it would be... sharp. Sharp look, sharp flat top, sharp gaze. Not mean, though it could be. It reminded her of his sidekicks’ freshly sharpened pencils, ready and full of potential.

“...Are you lost?”

“Beg pardon?”

“You’ve been wandering the same hallway intersection and--” she pointed a thumb towards a distant hallway. “The gymnasium is over there.”

Captain blinked for a moment, letting her words sink in. “Oh-- ohhh. Oh no, I meant to get out of the gymnasium,” he said matter-of-factly. “Though yes, I am lost. Do you, ah, could you show me where the nearest washroom or... water fountain is around here, er--”

“Moxie.” It looked like she was expecting something, but when nothing did, her shoulders untensed.

“Captain!” he beamed.

The sharp look turned severe. “Is that a joke?”

He flinched, unsure of what set her off. “U-- uh, no?”

Sensing his nervous energy, the severe look shifted to apprehension. Her brow furrowed. Did she not know either?

“Ma’am?”

“...Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked, crossing her arms. “I’m no good with faces.”

Captain paled. Either she knew Benjamin-- which was not a conversation he was equipped for-- or she recognized him as Captain Underpants-- which was a whole other, potentially dangerous can of worms.

“Uh, nope!” he chirped. “About that washroom--”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said after a moment, pointing a thumb down a nearby corridor. “There should be one down the hall.”

"Alrighty, thank you! Have a lovely night, Moxie.” And with that, Captain rushed to the washroom to wash his face and get out of whatever that was.

And only when he looked in the mirror of the dingy washroom, to the clothes that made it hard to think did he slap a hand to his forehead. He really did just introduce himself as himself while dressed up as Benjamin.

He was definitely going to read an essay’s worth of complaining after this whole thing.

——–

“Hey, Captain.”

Benjamin gripped at his chest at the sudden voice. He just stepped outside and into the parking lot only to find Moxie Swaggerman, straight A student, the envy of literally half the school, now astronaut just...

“Uh, what are you doing out here?” his lip curls up wryly out of old habit-- he’ll address the whole Captain thing later-- what did that idiot do while he was out?! “Got tired of people asking for your autograph?”

She tilted her head, adjusting her aviator glasses. “Oh, so you do know me.” She almost seemed... disappointed by that. “Why, you want one?”

“Urgh, no.” He crinkled his nose. Opinions about her aside, that just sounded... weird to ask from someone he knew, even if said knowledge was periphery at best and non-existent at worst.

Moxie let out an amused huff. “Good, because I can only take so much people trying to kiss up to me.”

Despite himself, Benjamin couldn’t help but let out a laugh, short and loud and practically a cackle. The woman’s brow quirked up as she regarded him.

“What?” he snapped back.

“The lack of hair threw me off, since I remember you with that weird swoop back, but I finally figured it out--” And he couldn’t help but adjust his toupee as she swept back her hands on both sides as a pale imitation of how his hair was all those decades ago. “You were the one who competed against me for Prom Queen.”

Benjamin wanted to say something, but all that came out was half-noises. His entire body grew hot and his hands became clammy as she just... continued to stare. The worst part about all this was that, with the low light of outside, he couldn’t tell why.

Suddenly he was back at his living room-- but not his, not anymore, he refused to consider that place his own-- staring down at the floor and clutching at the hems. Seeing his brother just peering in in his periphery vision as his mother continued her tirade, each word bullwhip-precise at hitting him in his core. But this was different; he was older and under no one’s thumb.

“A-- and what about it,” he managed to pry out of his throat.

Moxie’s posture shifted, and he could see her surprised expression now. If the circumstances were a bit different, then he would be reveling in the fact. Right now, though, he felt exposed, which was saying something considering who his counterpart was.

“Whoa-- hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” she clarified, and was that a hint of awkwardness? Remorse in her voice? “Honestly, it’s... nice to see you again.”

It was his turn to gawk. “...Really?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s uh-- like, its nice to see, ah... people like me still kicking.”

And it was then that Benjamin remembered the old rumors about Swaggerman-- about why she couldn’t get a nice guy to fall for her, and the girl from the rival school that clung by her side like a second shadow during summer vacation.

“I’ve always wondered for the longest time if you did that whole thing as a...” she paused, pursing her lips. “A joke, or something.”

“Oh,” he managed. “No, it wasn’t.”

“OK.” She nodded. “OK. Good to know.”

“Why, was that eating away at you?”

A passing car lit up her features in relief. When had her annoyingly cool façade been just that? It looked guarded now. A little more awkward. Funny how a few decades of separation can do.

Moxie shrugged. “Would have been nice to know back then.”

Benjamin wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he shrugged sympathetically and began to fiddle with the keys in his hand-- he had almost forgotten why he was out here in the first place.

She gaze followed the source of the glint. “Leaving early? Figure I should head out too.” She sighed. “Thanks.”

“...For what?”

“For making my last night before I get put to my paces a little more bearable.” She stretched her arms in front of her.

“Really, last night before you go to space and you choose to come here,” Benjamin deadpanned.

“First of all, no that’s not--” she shook her head. “Never mind. Basically, I wanted a normal night, and at least I got a bit of that. So, thanks, Captain.”

Benjamin had half a mind to correct her, but the moment had long passed and frankly he didn’t want to break the moment he was in now.

“Uh, yeah.” He waved her off awkwardly. “See you later.”

She's going to space, idiot, not a weekend road trip, his own mind admonished.

Moxie only nodded in reply before she went off as well-- presumably to her own car.

#mellsian fanfics #captain underpants #sticky notes au #im not sure How to end this but its There #the au can have bits of tetocu in its continuity as a Treat

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animedaddymilkers · 3 years

Text

Kinkmas 2020: Day 21

Prompt: Yandere/Spanking w/ Inoichi

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Yandere, Mutual Pining, Implied Stalking, Mild Dubcon, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Aftercare || Characters: Inoichi Yamanka, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

this fic contains yandere and mild dubcon themes, if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read!

With a content sigh, you unlocked the front door to your apartment, a slight fuzziness blurring your vision and limbs thanks to the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your keys were discarded into the cutesy trinket tray, your shoes kicked off into the ever-growing pile nearby. The date was an okay one, nothing extremely exciting but, hey, he was cute and it was a fun time. It may have sounded obnoxious when said out loud, but no men your age interested you. Not like you didn't give a plethora of them chances, and you still made friends with most of them. You just never seemed to form that romantic attachment you craved so desperately. What that said about your mental health wasn't totally lost on you, but not like you could (or wanted) to do a whole lot about it.

The sweater covering your shoulders was thrown onto a chair, your constricting belt quickly following as you made your way to your bedroom. At first, you didn't notice it, didn't notice anything at all. You simply continued walking on past the kitchen and living room, into your bedroom where you stripped your shirt and pants off. Trudging back out to the bathroom in your underwear and bra, your brows furrowed. You didn't remember turning one of the lights on… Chalking it up to the kitchen stove light you always left on, you continued your mission of brushing your teeth and face. When you came back out of the bathroom, you headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, freezing when you saw a figure sitting in one of your chairs, contently reading a book.

"S-Sir?!" the big kitchen light was on, illuminating the stoic face of one of Konoha's strongest shinobi.

The older blond man placed his book down, seeming annoyed it took you this long to notice him before he started with a huff, "I pay all my employees well, even ones as low down on the ladder as you. One would think that allows for better locks. And it's about time you arrived home, considering you have work tomorrow, no?"

Confusion was about the only emotion you could feel as your boss all but scolded you, besides the dull horny you always felt when it came to the man in front of you, though you suppressed that part for now, "Better wha- What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

Inoichi stood slowly, towering over you and making you regret the harsh tone you used, "Because it seems you forgot whom you belong to, dearest rosebud."

Besides the fact that his reply gave you more questions than answers, you silently gasped at the pet name he used. It was the same pet name your secret admirer had been using for you. You never saw the constant flower bouquets, food deliveries, or expensive gifts as harmful. They were, if anything, an ego boost to you thus far. All delivered to you with the sweetest notes, describing how ethereal you were, and always addressing you as rosebud, albeit also sounding a bit possessive. Additionally, in the six months, you had been receiving gifts, you hadn't been on any dates, instead choosing to focus on your new career supporting the Torture and Interrogation Department. A career that found you moving up the ladder fast, though you were still just doing menial tasks. Briefly, you wondered how much Inoichi had to do with those promotions, but he took a step towards you, cupping your face in his hand, and tore you from your thoughts.

"I think it's about time you come home. To your true home, don't you?"

Your heart thumped loudly in your throat and you nodded against your better judgment, "I do."

The smile you were met with sent a warm tingle through your body, and you returned a smile of your own. Inoichi nodded and picked his book up from the table, his other hand patting the top of your head. The silent praise had your chest swelling with pride for some reason unknown to you. It should have alarmed you how easily you accepted his offer, though you rationalized that you didn't have much choice, fearing that if you rejected him the trained ninja would take you anyways. Better to go willingly than be taken by force, right? Well, that and you were still a bit tipsy.

Before long, you were tucked snugly into the side of the blond man, his arm wrapped protectively around you. The route to his home was longer than it should have been, you suspected he was purposely avoiding the main streets. Being a high ranking shinobi taking a girl home during the early hours of the morning would raise questions. Especially a girl that worked under him. His warm touch was protecting you from the cold and the smell of his expensive cologne was intoxicating. It had you snuggling into his side more, an act which made him smile, he knew his rosebud wouldn't deny him. This definitely proved you deserved a present larger than anything he gifted you previously.

The Yamanaka clan complex was expansive and the main house was nothing to sneeze at either, easily dwarfing your apartment several times over. He led you inside, showing you around and you took notice of how similar his place was to yours. Not in the layout or big furniture pieces, but he had the same type of napkins, your favorite drinks, even your shampoo in his bathroom which you assumed was his daughter's. It didn't dawn on you until he took you on a tour of his room just how deep you were in. In his room, you found clothing that was unmistakably yours, items that had gone missing months ago and some just last week. They ranged from shirts and leggings to underwear and even a pillowcase. You tried not to take note of how some pieces were stained with white spots. Uneasiness began to grow in your gut as you wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into when your phone buzzed with a notification. You pulled it out, only to have Inoichi take it from you and punch in your passcode.

His face soured, "You really think that lowlife deserves a second date? Before you give me even <em>one</em>? Disgusting."

Your date from earlier must have texted back after you replied you wanted to see him again. He was about to slide your phone onto the dresser when it began to ring. If the scowl on his face told you anything, it was, unfortunately, your date calling. The guy did say he preferred talking over text and at the time, you didn't mind, but now, it was really rather annoying.

"Answer it. Reject him. Reject him like you know you want to," the direction was clear and stern, leaving no room for discussion as he thrust the phone in your direction.

Nervously, you took the device from him and answered the call. Rejecting someone, in general, was an anxiety-inducing task, but to have an overbearing admirer glare you down while doing so was all the more nerve-wracking. Your voice wavered slightly as you talked and although Inoichi still frowned, his hands played through your hair, skimming the ends of your locks. The guy on the other end was rightfully confused while you explained you never wanted to see him again because just an hour ago you texted you were looking forward to it. Part of you hoped he would pick up on the odd behavior and come after you, but the realistic part of your brain told you the boy was too daft and a measly coward. The opposite of the man in front of you.

Once the call was complete the smile returned to the blonde's face, "Good flower! I knew you wanted to be with me. But-," his face fell again, a look of complete seriousness that made you swallow hard, "I can't forgive your little indiscretion. Not yet. It seems you need a punishment to truly remind you of whom you belong to, rosebud."

Your face grew cold at the implications, yet still, you allowed Inoichi to lead you towards the bed. He sat on the edge and patted his expansive thighs, hardened with all the training he did. You should be refusing, should be running far, far away from this situation. But, it was too tempting. How many times does the man you fantasize about return your affections so vigorously? Additionally, a spanking from him sounded like time well spent and you did deserve it for trying to date someone else when you were meant for him. You laid yourself across his legs, the pants you haphazardly put on before leaving being tugged down to your knees. His hands caressed your backside, massaging your ass cheeks before giving a playful swat to them.

"Count them. If you lose count we start over. We'll stop when I think you've learned your lesson. Got it?"

You nodded before squeaking out a, "Yes, daddy."

The name seemed to both please and shock the man, as his hand stalled in mid-air before he grinned. Then, he brought his hand down to your cheek, prompting you to call out the number. A second smack was quick to follow onto the other cheek along with a third, his hands only stalling to hear you mutter out the number. Thankfully, he was merciful in his technique, alternating cheeks and making sure to smack the untouched parts of your backside. A couple even landed harshly on your folds, the wetness gathering there only intensifying the pleasure-pain you felt. After spank thirty, it was hard to find an area that wasn't welting up, and so he went over the areas he already smacked. It made it all the more sensitive as your legs jerked slightly and hands clutched at the comforter beneath you. Your ass was raw and bleeding slightly in a few places, yet still, his hands struck you, enjoying each conflicted whine that left your mouth.

At fifty, you prayed he would be finished, but he kept on spanking, making sure to land more smacks over your pussy. He'd make comments that were a mix of degrading praise about how wet you were for him and how well he was going to fuck you. The promise of being railed by the ever-growing hard-on beneath you was the only thing keeping you from begging him to stop. You were determined to be a good girl for your daddy, despite the burning pain you felt on your rear. Somewhere in the midst of the sixties, you actually came on his hand after he smacked your pussy again, earning rumbling praise from the man above you. Finally, at seventy-five, he stopped, most likely because his hands were sore at this point too. Your reprieve was capitalized by him affectionately rubbing and massaging your abused cheeks as if it pained him to hurt you. Without restraint, you whined into his chest as he held you, hips grinding down against his.

He laughed softly and kissed along your jaw, "Have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to accept me as your one and only?"

"Yes, I've learned my lesson, daddy. You're the only one I want in my life. Now and always, please never leave me," you held onto his shirt as you locked gazes with him, your best puppy dog eyes on display.

They worked their intended magic, as you could see his expression soften almost immediately, "Good little blossom. I'll never leave your side and you'll never leave mine. Especially not after we become one, petal."

The notion was intoxicating, being loved by someone so much they'd do anything for you. But right now, the love you needed was physical and with the goal dangling right above your head, you were desperate to reach it. Your hands slid under his shirt and peeled it off, your own being removed soon after. Within a flash, you both were naked and kissing each other feverishly. Inoichi laid back on the bed's pillows, admiring the sight of you perched atop him. You didn't mind being on top, taking the advantage to push his cock into you quickly. As you sank down on him, his hands stroked up and down your thighs, giving a testing thrust up into you. You sat on his cock as much as your body would allow and without hesitation, began to bounce yourself on him. He sighed in pleasure as you wrapped around him so perfectly, telling you he expected nothing less from his perfect rosebud. The praise drove you wild, finally getting the recognition you deserved, albeit in the form of compliments on your sex technique.

When your thigh muscles began to clam up from overuse he laid your body down on top of him. His thick arms wrapped around your torso and he wasted little time in thrusting up into you. Hands caressed your shoulders and he locked gazes with you, unable to tear his eyes away from your face. In the midst of your passionate throes, Inoichi couldn't help but get lost in your otherworldly beauty, only the noises you made and the movement of his hips kept him grounded. It felt like your pussy was made for him, wrapping around him so perfect and driving him insane, he had trouble restraining himself from fucking into you harder. His lips met yours fiercely, kissing and holding onto you like you might disappear at any time. You put a hand on his cheek as you kissed him back and snaked a hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit. Though, your hand was soon removed, being replaced by one of Inoichi's, who explained he was determined to be the one who pleased you. As if you'd have any qualms about that.

His surprisingly smooth fingertips rubbed at your clit and with the constant feeling of his cock pounding against your cervix, you quickly came a second time. Yet still, his fingers kept moving, only stopping for a brief moment to let you ride out your high. The look on his face let you know he was close to orgasm himself, the blush covering his cheeks made your own heat up. Seeing the older blond man so lost in ecstasy, lost in your body, was absolutely pussy clenching. He groaned and held onto you tighter, his face burying into your neck as he moaned your name. The number of times you imagined him calling out your name in pleasure had absolutely nothing on the real thing. You whined into his chest and dug your nails into his shoulder, relishing in the way his cock pounded into your hole, hitting the same spot over and over. Every little thing was mind-blowing when added together and when you heard Inoichi announce he was cumming inside of you, you easily spiraled into another orgasm of your own. You clenched around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was giving you.

After you coaxed a second orgasm from Inoichi you let him pull out, both panting hard and nearly passed out. Yet somehow, he managed to get you into the bathtub and cleaned you up, personally washing you as he whispered constant praises in your ear. You nearly fell asleep like that, if it wouldn't have been for the cold surrounding you once the water was drained. Inoichi sat you down in front of the vanity after he dried your body and affectionately brushed your hair while blow-drying it. Again, the attention and repetitive actions almost put you to sleep, your daddy coaxing you awake with kisses to your jaw. He instructed you to pick out something to wear in the closet while he waited for you in the bed. You assumed he meant to pick something of his to wear for the night, but once you entered the expansive walk-in closet, it all became a bit too clear. The wall opposite of what you assumed was Inoichi's was filled with clothes that fit your exact aesthetic. A few flips through and it confirmed, they were all in your size, some items were exact copies of things you had in your closet, others literal things that you had gone missing. The sight should have disgusted you, creeped you out, something. But looking at the wall of clothes and shoes all you could think of was how thoughtful it was of him to so thoroughly prepare for you moving in.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

#naruto #naruto x reader #kinkmas 2020 #smut #naruto smut #inoichi yamanaka #inoichi x reader #x you #reader insert #yandere #yandere x reader #mild dubcon #mutual pining #imagine

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Note

Ooooh but like what if it's gray getting jealous and a teeny but insecure too when MJ mentions some of her work mates and other close guy friends w whom she hangs out and drinks and parties yk?And when he finally meets them he might not be able to get some inside jokes or be pissy on how touchy one of her guy bffs is?!And just goes like"baby am I too young for you?"🥺maybe some cute fluff and hot makeup sex?? ;p Sorry if this too much or straight up lame It's cool if you don't wanna concept this

Ok, first of all, I love this. Second, this is my first MJ concept and I’m soft af🥺

If there’s one personality trait Grayson Dolan wouldn't normally attribute to himself, it’s that of being easily jealous. Why would he be? His life, despite it’s occasional heavy downs, is relatively picturesque in the grand scheme of things. He’s got a loving family, an amazing career, a beautiful girlfriend, and he’s narcissistic enough to proudly say he’s a good-looking dude.

But the little green monster first starts to stir in chest when said beautiful girlfriend lays back on his chest one morning, scrolling through Instagram while the two of them laze in bed. MJ is looking through the pictures she had been tagged in at a company dinner the night before, double-tapping her phone screen occasionally and diverting his attention away from his own phone when she does.

“Who’s that?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible as he eyes a certain picture with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Hm?” MJ had already scrolled down to the next photo, but she goes back to the one in question. Grayson points to the guy standing next to her. “Oh. That’s Jesse. He’s one of my teammates.”

Grayson doesn't respond right away, his gaze focused on the way the attractive young man has his arm wrapped tightly around MJ’s waist in the group photo. MJ is leaning away from him, but it still gives him a bad vibe — not from her, but from him.

“He looks friendly.”

MJ glances up at him and slaps the other side of his bare chest with the back of her hand jokingly. “Relax, we all had to squeeze in to get the picture. He’s just a colleague.”

“Yeah, to you,” Grayson mumbles. He tosses down his phone and turns on his side so he can throw his arm over her middle, nuzzling into her hair.

MJ smiles and scratches her nails up and down his sculpted arm, his warm breath tickling her ear. He’s not really the possessive type, too confident in himself and trustworthy in her for this to have ever been an issue in their relationship, but her work world is one entirely separate from him. She doesn’t think it’s too irrational for him to be suspicious, especially since she can admit feeling a little iffy about the way Jesse had so easily sidled up to her for that photo.

She shifts her head on the pillow so she’s facing him, kissing his lips softly but soundly. It’s an unspoken reassurance between them, and they both let the topic go.

A few days later, they’re in the kitchen together, a pass only she is allowed while Grayson cooks. MJ sits on the island, her feet dangling over the cabinets as Grayson stirs the vegetables he’s sautéing on the stove, when her phone buzzes on the marble countertop beside her. She picks it up and chuckles, her manicured fingers typing away.

“What’s so funny?” Grayson asks nosily.

MJ hits ‘send’ in the text response she wrote. “Jesse sent a stupid meme that reminded him of this super difficult exec we have to deal with for one of our clients.” She holds up her phone so Grayson can see it, but without the further context he doesn’t really see the humor in it. It causes a weird sensation to bubble in his stomach, one he can’t quite place, but it definitely makes him give the veggies an extra vigorous stir that has some of them flying out of the pan on accident.

He draws the line on this guy in his head when MJ sends him a text the next afternoon while he’s in a Wakeheart meeting downtown, just a few blocks from her office.

ugh baby i’m so sorry i have to cancel our lunch date :/ jesse wants to keep working on this report we have due this afternoon and i’ll look like a dick if i leave.

Grayson huffs and feels the back of his neck flush with anger. Why is Jesse controlling whether or not she can take her lunch break? She has a habit of skipping it to begin with, which Grayson can’t stand and actively tries to make sure she doesn’t do, so his irritation with this dude is through the roof now. His mind can’t help but wander to the possibility that maybe Jesse is doing it on purpose; he knows for a fact all of her coworkers know about him, so who’s to say he’s not trying to keep her to himself today? Before he can type out a heated response, however, MJ double-texts.

i promise I’ll make it up to you tonight. whatever you want, on me. literally and figuratively ;)

She knows him too well, can probably sense his frustration a few streets away. Grayson sighs, but his mouth lifts in a little smile, because he loves her and he’s low-key looking forward to that promise now.

Alright. I’ll be thinking about that to get me through this meeting. Pls eat tho baby, it makes me worry when you don’t.

me too lol. and gonna order some kreation now, don’t worry. ily

She punctuates her message with a few heart emojis, and Grayson returns the sentiment before pocketing his phone once more. His mind is far from the financial projections he’s supposed to be paying attention to, but luckily this is much more Ethan’s territory in the business than his, anyways.

Friday, he and MJ are cuddling on the couch watching a movie when out of nowhere she gasps a little and sits up from where she’s leaning on him. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask. You and E doing anything tomorrow?”

Grayson chuckles and shakes his head, amused by the suddenness of her question. He pushes a lock of her hair, damp from their shared shower, behind her ear. “Not that I know of, other than we might go to the skatepark.”

MJ grins. “Well, my boss is making us do our monthly team-building workshop at a climbing gym, if you want to tag along. I don’t think you’ll be able to join us during the middle of it, obviously, but afterwards it would give you the chance to meet some of the people I work with, if you want.”

He considers it. He hasn’t been climbing in a while, and he’s actually been itching to get back into it. Not to mention, it’ll give him a chance to keep an eye on Jesse while he’s around MJ in the skin-tight lycra she wears to work out in.

“Yeah, I’m down. I’ll ask E if he wants to come, too.”

The next day, the three of them roll up to the gym in Ethan’s Tesla. Grayson wastes no time in taking MJ’s hand in his as they walk through the parking lot, just in case a certain set of eyes are watching. MJ squeezes his fingers reassuringly; she’s not dumb, not impervious to the fact that when he kisses her goodbye once they step inside and before they go their separate ways that he had caught a glimpse of the man from the picture that put his guard up to begin with.

When he pulls back but makes no move to join Ethan on the other side of the gym, MJ shakes her head with a grin and cups his cheek softly.

“No need to stake your claim, Neanderthal,” she says.

He looks down at her with a pout that makes her heart and her panties melt. His wide hands plant themselves on her hips and tug her a little closer to him, anyways. “Am I being obvious?” he asks.

“Only to me,” she winks, rising on her toes to give him one more chaste kiss. “Now go with E, before Chanel gets here and I have to reverse the roles.”

Grayson laughs but does as he’s told, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before they part ways. MJ’s company had rented half of the gym, which was roped off for them. He chooses the open wall closest to the one they're using, eager to keep his girlfriend as nearby as possible for the couple of hours they would be separated.

As he sits on a bench and slips on his climbing shoes, Grayson can’t help but search out where Jesse is. He’s easy to spot, that’s for sure. Not only is he already next to MJ, chatting animatedly while she smiles and nods politely in return, but he stands out with his curly mop of hair, caramel-colored skin, and pale blue eyes. Maybe his attractiveness is part of the reason Grayson is somewhat intimidated by his obvious interest in MJ, but he’s also part of her everyday life, one he knows nothing about other than what she shares with him.

It’s never been something that bothers him, because it’s healthy to have a life outside of a relationship, but he’s always dated — hooked up, whatever you want to call it — in his industry. There was always a mutual understanding of what work and life in general entailed with those flings, and it’s taken Jesse for him to suddenly realize he doesn’t have the experience or the knowledge of how to handle his feelings with that not being the case with MJ. It makes him feel out of control, not good enough somehow.

Grayson Dolan does not like to be out of control and he most certainly does not like being below his own standards.

“Who’s that?”

Grayson is brought out of his daze by his brother’s voice and the hand he had clapped to his shoulder. If he were able to laugh at himself in this moment, he might have found Ethan’s question funny, since it was exactly what he’d said when he first saw Jesse, too. Ethan’s gaze is fixed on MJ and the man in question, who had placed his hand on her elbow as he talked only for MJ to duck down to ‘tie her shoe.’

“Jesse,” is all he says, standing up to buckle his chalk belt around his waist.

“Oh,” Ethan replies, nodding his head a little. “Do we like him?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Ethan becomes another set of eyes for Grayson while they climb, giving him nudges or a little whistle every time he catches Jesse standing a little too close to MJ, or finding a reason to touch her, or to ‘help’ her as she climbs up the wall. Grayson glowers over every time, trying his best but probably failing to not to come off as the jealous boyfriend. Every once in a while MJ will catch his eyes, giving him a quick wave or a thumbs-up with a pretty smile just for him. It makes his heart settle some, only for his chest to tighten again when Jesse starts cheering for her a little too loud.

The two hours pass by a little faster as he settles into the rhythm of climbing, trying to put her touchy coworker in the back of his mind. He trusts MJ with everything in him, but he knows how men can be — ignorant either by choice or by idiocy to a woman’s obvious signals of disinterest.

“Gray!”

He’s just reached the top of the wall when his girlfriend’s voice cuts clear through the loud chatter around them. He looks down and sees her on the mat, hair pulled back in a cute high ponytail, freckled cheeks flushed from the exertion of the day, as she waves him down with that same bright smile.

He grins, excited to have her to himself once again. “One sec!”

Once he’s made it back down the wall, he greets her with a kiss. She’s tied her jacket around her waist, leaving her top half covered only by a pretty green sports bra that happens to be both his favorite color and one that makes her eyes pop beautifully.

“I like this,” he says suggestively, hooking his finger in one of the straps and tugging gently.

MJ rolls her eyes and reaches up to adjust the center of the Wakeheart cap he’s got backwards over his hair. “Come on. You can meet the idiots I have to put up with every day.”

She leads him to the group, who are all standing around chatting, gulping down water, gathering keys and such as they prepare to leave. He gets introduced to them a couple at a time. Some of them he recognizes by name, such as Valentina and Jude (both of whom MJ actually likes and considers friends), MJ’s intern Alessia, and Chanel, of course, who bats her eyes so obnoxiously it’s almost comical.

And then there’s Jesse, who’s immediately sizing Grayson up with those striking eyes as soon as they approach him standing in the corner on his phone. Grayson doesn’t back down in the slightest, a smirk fixing itself on his lips when MJ leans into him and wraps her arm around his back. He drapes his own over her shoulders, pulling her that much closer to him.

“Hey Jess. This is the famous boyfriend I’ve told you all about,” she introduces, patting a hand on his hard stomach and smiling up at him for a moment.

Grayson lets go of MJ long enough to extend his hand. “Grayson.”

Jesse accepts and shakes his hand politely. “Jesse. MJ and I are teammates.”

“So I’ve heard,” he says, keeping a tight smile on his face as Jesse continues to square up to him, like Grayson has posed some kind of challenge.

Jesse nods, a grin of his own popping up as he gets the idea that MJ has maybe talked about him before. Grayson wants to roll his eyes, but he stays trying to be the bigger person here.

“So what do you do, Grayson?” Jesse asks.

Another hot flash overcomes him. He’s heard the question often enough to know there are two ways people ask it: innocently and genuinely; or knowingly and almost maliciously, like Jesse is now, waiting for him to say the ‘i’ word and berate him for it passive-aggressively.

MJ tightens her arm around him some, and it calms him down enough to answer with an even tone. “I do social media.”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though,” MJ steps in for him with a grin. “He and his brother have a whole production team under them. And they're CEO’s and part-owners of a fragrance company, Wakeheart. I think I’ve told you, whenever you compliment my perfume, that it’s Grayson’s, right?”

She’s incredible, really. Grayson smiles and shows off the diamonds in his teeth, which glint in the harsh artificial light. “Well, Jesse, if you like MJ’s perfume so much, I’d be glad to send you our whole collection. Maybe you’ll find one that’s right for you.”

He can see Jesse’s resolve start to waver, especially when MJ stands on her toes to kiss Grayson’s stubbled cheek. “Very generous, huh Jesse?”

Jesse clears his throat and digs his keys out of his pocket tellingly. “Ah, yeah. Thanks, man, good to meet you. See you Monday, MJ.”

He brushes past the couple without another glance, and he at least has the decency to blush a little from embarrassment. MJ turns and wraps her arms around Grayson’s middle, staring up at him with big green eyes that sparkle with amusement.

“Do you think he got the picture that I’m completely, totally, head over heels in love with you?” she asks, swaying slightly as he wraps his arms around her as well. “And that he has no chance in this universe whatsoever?”

“I don’t know, I feel like you could’ve laid it on a little thicker. Hyped me up a bit more,” Grayson jokes, dipping down to brush her lips with his. A blonde statue glares at the pair of them when he pulls back and glances over MJ’s head. “Chanel is staring daggers at us. Should we make out right here so she can see how I feel the same about you?”

MJ giggles and shakes her head. “Unfortunately, nothing will faze that bitch.” She nuzzles his nose with hers affectionately, the chaste display a perfect disguise for the dirty whispers that comes out of her mouth next. “Mm, my CEO boyfriend can take me home, though, and fuck me nice and hard in the shower.”

Grayson’s eyes turn a shade darker, and he bites his plump lower lip. He wants to slip his hands down to her ass, but he’s also very aware of how public they are right now. “If we even make it to the shower,” he murmurs.

MJ scrunches her nose and raises her brow in a look of mild disgust. “Gray, if you think I’m sucking your dick after it’s been in a cup for nearly three hours, without you taking a shower, you better think again. I don’t think even Chanel is down for that.”

Grayson lets out a belly laugh and releases her, taking her by the hand instead to go find Ethan. “Noted, baby. Noted.”

#no smut but #might post some tomorrow👀#thank u again bb for sending this in it means a lot❤️#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson mj #grayson mj blurb #blurb #g blurb

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karanuit · 4 years

Text

LA ROGUE !

synopsis. in which choi san shaded the universe in dark red love for her, but she had no idea of his existence. muses. choi san and female reader. genre. dark angst with a hint of smiley san. trigger warning. mentions of gore and minor character death. type. yandere mafia. word count. 4,560 words. mirae's note. please take note that the depiction of the muse in this writing does not reflect upon their behavior in the real world nor do i condone the actions taken by the muse, this is all purely a work of fiction.

it was love at first sight.

when choi san saw you for the first time, dazzling smile with rosy cheeks to compliment the gleam within your warm eyes, he could have sworn that the heart he had proclaimed to be shattered had skipped rapidly to stop his breath of awe from slipping out of his lips. the finger that once rested upon the trigger had fallen loosely as his eyes remained glued to your hair that flowed with the wind once she had tossed your head back to let out a melodious laugh at whatever your companion had told you.

"san, what is your status?" the stern voice fell upon deaf ears for the entranced man had pressed himself against the windowpane to watch the sun glisten upon your natural skin, your figure accentuated by your casual attire that unintentionally teased his tainted mind. his sharp eyes darted to the person sat opposite of you, barrels of bile churning in his stomach at the sight of the unknown person gently caressing your hand.

his hand wrapped tightly around the handle of his gun, the temptation of executing the source of his sour mood too colossal of a chance to pass up until static pierced his ears. a painful hiss tumbled from the color streaked hair male as he pressed upon the device and uttered out, “what the hell was that for?”

the receiver merely chuckled, seemingly amused by his reaction before he replied, "just had to make sure you're still alive and remind you that ogling at that girl isn't worth as much as completing your mission."

a low growl echoed from the assassin, anger rearing its vile head once he remembered the reason for his original position and heard the mocking tone of his friend when he brushed upon the core of his attention at that very moment. he hadn't bothered to fully open the window as his bullet had already embedded itself within his target, the sight of their blood oozing while they lay sprawled across the dirty ground triggered a chain of screams and bystanders who sprinted away without a second look.

he found delight in their reactions, a twisted pleasure relished by the male, until he looked at you once more.

the smile on your face had slipped away, the mask of fear covering your frozen state before she was tugged away by your companion whose arm wrapped around your waist in order to hold your closer to their body. san stiffened immensely, his slender fingers ready to dispose of another body out of jealousy but the emotion washing in your eyes caused a halt in his actions. he couldn't scare you, he couldn't even bare to face the harsh reality that he was the reason for your fright.

instead, he resorted to falling back on his seat and crossed one leg atop of another, brows crinkled in thought while he caught his bottom lip between his pearly whites. he pressed a finger to his ear piece and called out, "sangie ~"

a sigh reached his ears, followed by a bored voice that carried over the rapid taps of fingers pressing along a keyboard. "you only call me that when you need something." the secluded male paused, seemingly taking a sip of a drink. "what is it now?"

"tell joong hyung that i'll be late tonight please!" he left no space for the older male to question why, the device already tossed carelessly on the table next to him. his firearm lay idly next to a knife that he couldn't help but to pick up and run his finger along the jagged edge. if he had pressed harder, blood would have stained the metal yet he wouldn't care as he found joy in pain.

san giggled, the spirit of a child looking to make an appearance through the sound before he squelched it deeply. a deep shade of rouge flashed by his eyes, the image of you imprinted in his mind like a flame prepared to lure in a moth. his mouth nearly watered at the thoughts that associated itself with you, playing him a line that had him craving a bigger mission.

he needed to have you, he was sure of that. he couldn't let himself live for another night without you under his protection and love. he'd do anything to have you, no matter what the price may be. he'd slip his way into your heart easily, he'd devote yourself to no one but him.

but first, he had competition to discard of.

the moon had appeared once more, her jet black fields covering the once azure sky.

san rested upon a roof where he was offered a clear view of his opponent, the latter unaware of the unrelenting stare that tried to mar their skin. it was not hard to find out where the male lived as yeosang had given him the home address of his darling where, to his utter disdain, your companion had left you at the door with a gentle kiss to your cheek. he poured out his anger through his clenched fists, repeatedly reminding himself to be patient before he lost his chance and sunk into a life of regrets.

elation coursed through him once he noticed that his darling lived a fair distance away from what the person that he deemed to be a troubling issue who had no right to be near a beauty such as his muse. as he watched his opponent stride across the dimly lit streets, he found the eagerness of execution too much to bear for much longer. it was alright, he assured himself as no one was around to witness the oncoming slaughter of dirty blood.

beneath the occasional blinks of the gleaming stars, he stealthily approached his prey with his ebony irises smothered by a wicked glint. his hand tightly gripped on the handle of his knife, its sharp blade resting by the curve of his hip. no sound resounded from his steps, agile movements hidden under the thuds of the other's footfalls.

the victim pivoted their foot, ready to take a new turn onto the next street until a hand encased their throat roughly and allowed their body to fall against the lean build of his captor. their feet kicked against the pavement in a futile attempt to stand on their own balance again but that only angered the taller male, his calloused hand wrapping tighter around their neck. they couldn't find their breath, the air held within the grasp of the stranger until they was held up against a brick wall.

their body trembled, the action fueling the deranged assassin who looked at him with a mix of fury and insanity. they weakly cried out for mercy, hoping to find a reason for their undeserved fate. "w-why are you d-doing th-this-?"

"you’re trying to take her from me." the victim's eyes widened as they tried harder to escape the clutches of death by claiming that they had no idea who he was talking about but they only received mocking laughter in return. "you can try lying to me as much as you want but i know you want my darling."

he took the knife in his grasp once more, waving it slowly in front of his terrified target with its edge drawing closer to his skin with each sway. a gulp lumped itself through his throat, quivering eyes flitting with the movement until it rested by the along the column of his neck. they looked into those dark eyes once more, looking to beg for mercy but choi san was not a man of forgiveness.

his taunting smile was the last sight the held to their eyes, the words of their killer ringing endlessly in his ears like a poisonous mantra.

"have fun dancing with the devil."

choi san wanted to crumble.

after washing his hands in the slain blood of his latest victim, he had discarded the body in a manner that would ensure no one would find out of what he had done. he had then laid a veil upon his deed and forged a text that would seem as though the male had left for another lover before leaving it in the hands of you, his beloved darling. though he believed it was for your benefit, it wasn't enough to brace him for the translucent tears that stained your cheeks and the high intake of wine that you poured upon your supposedly broken heart.

his lungs clenched tightly, the sight nearly enough to make him punish himself by ensuing the same fate but he couldn't be selfish. not when he knew that you were still in pain and in need of solace from the bleak stains that your so called lover's departure had left behind as a painful reminder. so, he stood by the sidelines, waiting for the perfect moment to approach his darling and sweep you off of your feet like a knight in shining armour.

even though he knew patience was key to his plans, he couldn't halt the restless bounce of his leg as he perched himself on a stool while nursing a glass of whiskey that had yet to be consumed. numerous glances were thrown at him, whispers of awe and lust filled gazes surrounded him yet he only had his eyes on you, his darling who sat only a few meters away from him in a booth while your friends scattered across the dance floor. clad in an off-the-shoulder, black dress that fell above your knees and your favourite pair of shoes adorning your feet, san couldn't help himself from straightening his back and licking his chapped lips.

she was truly an ethereal sight to behold to his eyes that he had nearly let the hungry glances of onlookers float over his head until one foolish soul decided to approach you with an aura that exuded lust. his jaw clenched at the sight, the glass in his hand nearly shattering by the iron grip he had upon it as he watched you shuffle in your seat, the look of discomfort written on your face. you gave the stranger a small smile, trying your best to polite in brushing him off but he certainly wasn't having it as he leaned in closer with a sly smirk on his face.

that was his cue, he told himself. this was the spotlight preparing itself to shine upon him once he entered to save his damsel in distress. he approached the sight with long legged strides, the sounds emitted from the speakers doing its best to drown the rise of gossips. with a professional smile on his face, he stood by the table and asked, "excuse me, is there a problem here?"

his cat-like eyes caught your shoulders sagging in relief, the muted breath that left your pursed lips sending a swell of pride in his fibers. on the other hand, the muscular male scoffed at his entrance and remarked, "it's none of your business so you can run along somewhere else."

there was a subtle shift in the assassin's expression, muscles tensing before he raised a hand to pat the persistent male on the shoulder before lifting his lips to whisper by his ear, "i can tear your limbs right ere but i won't as my darling is here. i'm only showing mercy because of her, you better get out of my sight right now before i change my mind."

he had made his warning sound as easy as saying one's name, the gory thought sending a multitude of tremors across the other party's spine. he nodded mutely, quickly scurrying away from the dangerous male before he could decide to change his mind. the exit was left unnoticed as san had already turned to his darling with a look of concern and slowly advanced, frightened that he would startle you after the scene that had just played out.

"are you alright?" his voice was laced with worry, you had to take half a minute to retrieve yourself from your shocked state before you could reply, "yes i am, thank you so much for helping me."

you sent him a smile of gratitude, the gesture breaking itself to serve as more drugs to his addiction. he played it off, a small chuckle that matched the soft lilt of his voice filled your ears and was welcomed warmly as he told you, "it's not a problem, anyone in my position would have done the same thing."

the scarlet streak haired male mentally praised himself, very proud of his "achievement” that he had almost let your question be blocked off by his celebration.

"can i get you a drink?" he shook his head and sent you a dimpled smile, the look nearly sending your heart swooning for him but you tugged yourself at the last second. your brows knitted in a frown, the feeling of uncertainty crawling upon you as you tried to think of how to repay him.

as if he was a mind reader, your savior handed in a suggestion. "why don't i keep you company instead, to make sure that the encounter doesn't repeat itself."

you were quick to bob your head up and down to show your agreement, words chasing after your nod. "that would be lovely, especially with my friends having fun on the dance floor."

he moved to the other vacant seat in the booth, arms rested upon the table before he propped his elbow up and rested his head upon the palm of his hand. he looked at you with glazed eyes, silently admiring all of your features with the struggle of restraining his movements high on his radar. you took another sip of your drink as you watched your friends tear up the floor before catching your newfound company's gaze upon you.

"did i smudge my lipstick?" you quickly moved your hand to hover over your lips, fingers darting towards your skin to wipe away the possible stain. he shook his head again and answered, "no no, i'm just wondering what a beautiful lady like you is doing at a scene like this."

the giggle that he had dreamed of hearing had finally graced his system, followed by a playful reply from you. "i bet you say that to every woman during the first meeting." he played along by remarking with the dimples of his grin visible once more. "you can ask them if you'd like but i highly doubt you will find anyone else but yourself on that list."

that had taken you aback, your lips forming a small o as you stared at him with disbelief. "you're joking! i'm really the only woman you've talked to?"

his free hand reached back to scratch the nape of his neck and reveals the small freckles that dotted across his milky skin. there was a bashful tone in his voice as he corrected you, "you're the only woman i've ever gathered up the courage to approach since i struggle to interact with the opposite gender."

You rested your hand upon your chest and replied with your bright smile nearly blinding him. "well i'm honored to be your first." they shared a laugh from their conversation, the past event erased from their minds before he spoke up, "but really though, what made you decide to visit a nightclub?"

her fingers played with each other, a habit of yours that you had picked up whenever you were sad, as you explained to him the backstory that involved your ex-lover and your friends deciding to bring your out of your shell to remove the memories that he had bestowed upon you. san listened intently, a small nod that let you know that he was listening until you had finished.

"he's an idiot." you giggled at his first reaction, your heart lightening considerably like the story had been a burden upon you that you didn't want to bare alone any longer. he brought his hand under the table, balling it into a tight fist at the mention of the male but he hid it behind sympathetic words. "i'm sorry you had to waste time on a player like that."

your shoulders shrugged, the small sigh escaping from you as you said, "well i can't change the past so all i can do now is move on and look forward to not making the same mistake in the future." he took an empty glass that had been left behind and held it up with complimentary words for you. "cheers to that."

you clinked your drink with his and took a slug of the liquid before leaving it on its place mat and taking a glance at the watch that rested on your wrist. a small mutter was covered by your breath, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip as you looked to be pondering about something. it was obvious that you had made a decision once you finished the last of your drink and took your clutch into your hands. he watched you with a slight tilt of his head and asked, "leaving so soon?"

an apologetic look was sent in his direction as you voiced out your reason. "i have bundles of work to attend to tomorrow so i have to leave now unless i'd like look like a zombie who is doing her best to nurse a hangover." you glanced at your watch again before taking out your phone and holding it out to him, asking for his number so they could hang out some other time.

he was more than happy to oblige, the number inputted in less than thirty seconds before he returned the device to you with his contact saved as ‘best boy san’ with a heart by his name. you sent a message to the number, the vibrate of his phone alerting him of your text before you gave him a wave and exited the venue.

“i hope to see you again!” you had exclaimed on your way out, your voice overpowering the booming speaker sounds and reaching his ears easily. he wanted to tell you that he was sure that you'd definitely see each other again but held back his tongue, letting a smirk play on his lips.

the pieces of his plan were falling into place.

the day had finally dawned upon the horizon.

after numerous exchanges of messages between the two of you, along with a few brief and "unexpected" encounters on his part, the male had deemed that you were finally ready to love him. there were no faults in his plan, he had made sure of that but his best friend had tweaked it without permission.

"i told you to take her with no harm, why's there a cut on her forehead?" when he had heard the knock upon his bedroom door, he was excited to be greeted by the sight of his darling in wooyoung's arms but upon further inspection, his mood had depleted by the blood that dripped from your minor wound. without a second thought, he had taken your unconscious figure from his best friend and placed you upon his bed, adjusting your head above the pillow. once satisfied, he darted across the room to grab his first aid kit and patched up the injury silently.

the younger male who stood by the side shrugged nonchalantly and simply told him, "she tried running away and ended up bumping her head on the corner of the dining table, it's not my fault she is clumsy."

he had earned a hard stare for his explanation before a sigh followed it up. "you can go now woo, i can handle this."

the seducer nodded, acknowledging his dismissal before sending a smirk his way and a light tease in the form of a short melody. "have fun but remember, we also need sleep too so try to keep it to a minimum ~!" san spluttered for a reply, his mind doing its best to repel such impure thoughts as he had wanted to keep you innocent for as long as he could. his best friend's smirk grew wider before he shut the door behind him, off to fulfil his own tasks.

a bouquet of blue daises sat upon his bedside table while he sat at the edge of his bed, gently running his fingers through your silky hair while he hummed a soft tune that he had learned from his childhood if he could recall correctly. he went along with this for an hour before you began to stir, lashes fluttering open to reveal your glazed irises as you blinked owlishly to regain focus.

"san?" your throat was parched, his name had barely slipped off your tongue before a thump resounded through your mind. you raised a hand to your forehead, shocked to feel a fabric upon it before your eyes looked around to grasp at the unfamiliar surroundings. the aforementioned male stayed silent for a moment before gently cooing, "careful there, you took quite the hit."

the last time they saw each other, he had an innocent gleam in his eyes that could send any heart toppling if it were to be combined with his charming, dimpled smile and quick wit that stood as the topping on the icing. that was the choi san that you remembered, not this supposed impostor who looked at you with a warped glaze and whose voice held the tone that an adult would use when speaking to a child. something was not right, the dread that smothered your heart was enough to tell you that.

she tried to speak again but he held up a hand, as if pausing your sentence before he offered you a glass of water. though wariness had taken control of your body, the need for liquid in your system was too overwhelming that you took the whole glass in one gulp. he nodded, seemingly happy with the outcome before you asked, "w-where am i?"

a frown implanted itself on his face once he heard you stutter, a twinge striking his chords as he came to terms that you were afraid. you were scared, because of him. this nearly tore him but he held up a gentle façade and answered, "you're in my home. well, it'll become our home sooner rather than later."

"o-our home?" you looked bewildered yet terrified at the same time, the two emotions colliding with one another to form a reaction. his smile appeared once more yet it didn't hold the same effect on you as it did before. instead, it shot off flares of panic and worry within your trembling body. "yes, seeing as how we belong to each other now."

the words were a flurry, a tsunami that sent your mind toppling over itself and into a black hole. everything you thought you knew about the male in front of you was thrown down the drain, there was no trace of who he was in front of you anymore. your mind knew this yet your heart was in denial of it, desperation brimming over the edges.

"no. this isn't real, this is a nightmare. no, it's not possible." your teary eyes roved over his face, your heart shoving you to believe that there was some silver lining yet all you found was a poisoned yarn that tied you up in the place he wanted. you shook your head and bit on your lip, coming close to drawing blood as you wailed, "i want to wake up right now!"

san tried to swoop in like he did before during their first meeting, offering soothing words and gentle pats on the hand but it was too late, you had seen too much. he tried his best, slender fingers caressing your cheeks as he whispered, "it's okay darling, i'm here for you."

"i want you to get away from me! i want nothing to do with you!"

the pieces of his heart fell past his stomach, body frozen as he processed your words. it was his turn to deny what you had said, his hands trembling as he looked at you with wide eyes and a jut in his bottom lip. he resembled a frightened, ingenuous child so closely that you almost sat up so you could comfort him but held back. you no longer trusted him, wary that it was only another façade to lure you in.

he shook his head, vehemently pressing for what he believed was the truth as he took your hands in his and asked with a quiver in his voice, "that's not true, right? you l-love me, i know you do. it's hidden deep in you, you just can't see it yet because of that scum of a lover you once had." from the mention of his deceased adversary, his head tilted slightly with his lips curling into a proud grin as he added on, "they didn't even put up much of a fight, they were obviously a weakling who can't protect you like i can."

the ice drew up your veins as realization dawned upon you like a blow to the gut. "y-you, you killed them?!" you tried to wrangle your hands out of his grip but he wasn't willing to let you off, nodding eagerly as an answer while the crazed smile rested on his face. "of course, i did it for you!"

her head drooped low, the bright eyes that once held joy and warmth were encased by the dark light. it was his fault, he was the one to blame for the sorrow that was sewed within your heart. for too long, you had grieved a lost love with the fault on your shoulders yet it was never your sin that had taken away the one you had loved. it was him and his deadly obsession with you, one that you couldn't fathom as to why it existed in the first place. they both held different perspectives but, in the end, they were both present to witness the same outcome.

his once warm hand cupped your face, slightly tilting your chin up so he could look at the only pretty face that he could bare to look at for the rest of his life. the pad of his thumb gently caressed your skin while the tone of his voice contrasted that vibe. "don't fret too much darling, you'll learn to love me one day."

she attempted to dig your nails into his palms, the twisted desire of watching him bleed would have been a small amount to avenge the innocent blood that he had shed. your plan had been foiled when he pulled his free hand away from you, seemingly aware of what you were thinking of and playfully tutted. "now that's not very nice, i know you're more kind that you're portraying."

her reply did its best to drag a slash across his impenetrable forces. "you know nothing about me. if you did, you’d know that i wish you get sent to hell so you can burn there for the rest of your life." your voice dripped with the putrid acid of hatred you held towards him as clear as his twisted love for you.

"oh darling, i'll drag you in with me so we can burn together forever." ⠀⠀⠀

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shiggi-trash · 4 years

Text

dabi x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: blood, a little gore-y

a/n: it has pained me to wait over a month to post this lol but i’m so happy it’s finally here !! thank you @onyxiana-is-obsessed for making the banners !! 💕

link to the rest of the server collab pieces

The interactions with your neighbors since moving into your apartment building had been little to none, except for the guy who lived next to you. You would rarely ever see him though, usually it was when you were coming home from work and he would be leaving.

The groan that left your lips was heavy, closing your eyes to collect yourself after a long day of work before bending down to pick up your keys. Of course today of all days your lock was giving you trouble.

“Long day doll?”

You jumped, keys dropping again in the process as the voice came from next to you. Looking over at the man leaning against the doorway next to yours, only for your mind to go completely blank.

He was hot, like smoking model hot. And oh god his eyes, the gorgeous blue that popped against his dark hair and heavy scarring on his face.

Suddenly you realized you were staring, eyes going wide as you felt your face heat up. “Oh um yeah.”

He chuckled as he walked off, hands in his pocket as he left you fumbling to open your door again. That basically summed up your relationship other than that there were no real conversations, just stolen glances as he left his apartment and you entered yours.

You thought about him a lot, his blue eyes, lean body, slender hands and piercings, you wondered where he got his scars, not that you would ever ask him. But he intrigued you, he was mysterious, he was quite unusual for someone who looked as good as he did, he left at night and didn’t come back until the sun was up.

For a while you jokingly told your friends you lived next to a vampire but for all you knew he might as well have been. You wanted to get to know him better but you didn’t really have an in.

That was until your fire alarm wouldn’t stop beeping. You groaned, throwing off your bed sheets, your landlord said he couldn’t come fix it for a day or two but that meant a week and you couldn’t sleep like this.

The reasoning behind going to his apartment was stupid, from what you knew of his schedule he was gone by now and wouldn’t be back til morning but still, he was the only option and you had to try.

Now that you were standing in front of his door with your pajamas on you felt a little ridiculous, of course he wouldn’t answer or even know what to do but either way you knocked. Only to have to door open itself.

A little pit formed in your stomach, that wasn’t normal. Standing there you were unsure of what to do, did he just accidentally leave it open or was something wrong ? Peaking your head through the door you decided to atleast check, if he just left it open by mistake then you would go back but if something was wrong you needed to check.

And suddenly you realized you didn’t even know his name. “Hello ?” You called out, looking through the dark apartment. “Is everything okay?”

It was silent in response so you went to leave but you heard a crash. You froze, your mind thinking the worst, that there was a murderer, someone had broken in but it could just be your neighbor, hurt fending off the murderer by himself.

“Hello?” You called again, warily stepping into the apartment. “Are you okay?”

feeling for the light switch you turned it on, getting a clear view of his living room, plain, messy and the most worrying, the trail of blood leading back towards the bedroom.

Walking forward you kept your pace slow, making sure to scan the room for any hidden murderers with knives ready to jump out and kill you.

“I’ll call the cops.”

Standing in front of the bedroom door you hesitated before tapping it with your foot, watching as it swung open with a creak to reveal a dark room, illuminated by a lamp in a corner you couldn’t see.

“Hello?” You stepped inside the room, looking around before landing on a hunched figure sitting on the floor.

“Can’t take a hint huh doll ?” His voice was light toned but strained, trying to hide the pain.

You flipped the light switch, getting a good view of the blood pooling around him. You froze again, head swimming at the sight in front of you.

“What happened?” You spoke but your voice sounded far away.

“Would you believe me if I said It was a bar fight.” He laughed followed by a low groan of pain.

The groan was like a bucket of cold water was splashed over your head. You started to panic because oh god your hot neighbor was going to bleed out in front of you.

“I- uhhh what do I do ? Oh my god you’re going to bleed out and it’s going to be my fault because I don’t know what to do.” You sucked in a big breath. “I need to call an ambulance fuck I don’t have my phone.”

“No!” He protested. “You cannot call the ambulance.”

“Why not?! You're going to bleed out.”

“Stupid pigs are gonna ask questions,” he lazily smiled at you. “I can’t really afford questions.”

“So what do i do?”

“Go to the bathroom there’s a white- ahh box, bring it here.”

Nodding you went to look for the bathroom, which shouldn’t have been difficult seeing every apartment was built identical but right now you were flustered, you felt swimmy, in over your head. When you got there you rummaged through his cabinets until you found the white box he was talking about.

When you got back to the room he had slightly lifted up his shirt so you could see the wound which was still bleeding heavily. It made you freeze, you had never been one for gore you could hardly watch horror movies without cringing away from the effects but up close ? in person it was a different story, you felt like you could puke your guts up at any second.

His pained laugh brought you out of your inner panic. “You just gonna stand there doll? It’s startin’ to hurt.”

You swallowed, cringing as your shoe landed in a puddle of blood. Trying to ignore everything around you, focusing on the man in front of you, swallowing the bile as you kneeled down on the floor unsure of what was worse, the blood soaking into your pajama bottoms or seeing the wound so close up.

Unlatching the white box you looked at it in horror, the bottle of vodka and suture kit staring right back at you.

“Y-you want me to…” you trailed off, not able to finish your sentence.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else.” He winked, leaning close to your face as he reached for the bottle of vodka.

Unscrewing the cap he threw it across the room, taking a big swig from it before pouring a fourth of the bottle on the open wound, hissing in pain.

He held out the bottle towards you after. “Hands.”

You held out your hands letting him pour the vodka all over your hands, grabbing the needles you let him pour vodka all over them too. In that moment it set in on exactly what you were about to do. At this point of the movie you always screwed your eyes shut, holding your ears to block out as much sound as possible.

He grabbed your wrist, making you look up into those beautiful blue eyes you were always thinking about. “You’re okay.”

“W-what if I end u-”

“You’re gonna be okay.” he said more sternly before leaning back, blowing out a breath. “Go ahead.”

Gently touching his skin with one hand you brought the needle closer with the other. Hoping you wouldn’t mess it up you closed your eyes, preparing yourself to stick a needle through someone's skin, but right as you were he stopped you.

“Do you want to mutilate me Doll? Don’t close your eyes, you'll be fine.”

Nodding you forced your eyes open, barely holding back the contents of your stomach as you pushed the needle through. You could do this, you could do this just a few more times and you were done.

As soon as the needle went through the last patch of open skin you stood up, almost slipping on the blood as you bolted to the bathroom, barely making it in time before you threw up into the toilet.

When you had finished you sat back, leaning against the cool wall as you breathed deeply, trying to forget the feeling of sewing someone bleeding wound up.

“So I take it you aren’t a doctor?”

You looked up to the doorway where he was standing, a cocky smile on his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be laying down?” you asked weakly.

“I brought you clothes, in case you want to take a shower.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as he placed the clothes on the counter before closing the door as he left. You figured you could’ve just gone back to your apartment but a big part of you didnt want to, you wanted answers, to know he was okay.

Your face heated up as you got out of the shower, looking at the pair of boxers and large t-shirt he’d given you to wear. Putting them on you went out to the living room where you heard the tv playing.

Standing at the end of the hall you watched him sitting on the couch with a new pair of clothes, feet propped up on the coffee table. As if sensing you were there he looked over, scanning you up and down before going back to the tv with an unreliable expression.

“Are you just gonna stand there all night doll?”

“I don't know your name.” you spoke softly, playing with the sleeves of his shirt.

“Dabi, are you gonna sit?” he patted the spot on the couch next to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you want to know mine?” you asked, facing him as you sat down.

“I already know it Y/N,” shocked, you were about to speak but he continued before you could. “I like to know those around me, plus I couldn’t help but be interested in the cute little neighbor.”

As Dabi spoke he moved closer, eventually leaning over top of you staring at you with those gorgeous eyes of his.

“You are quite interesting; pretty, quiet, always home, alone and you keep to yourself so it’s my surprise when you wander over here, calling for a stranger you don't know the name of?”

Your face heated up, from a close distance and learning all the things Dabi had learned about you. His breath fanning your face made you nervous, extremely so but in a good way. You hoped at least.

“Same goes for you, you seem to know quite a bit about me.” The bravery of your words masked the fear you felt, wondering if you’d overstepped as your eyes flickered over his face.

It was all gone the instant a chuckle left his lips and he leaned back, leaving you to breathe properly. You noticed that he sat a lot closer than he had been before, arm thrown behind you on the couch.

“Why were you wondering over in the middle of the night?”

Your face heated up even more, staring down at your lap. “My fire alarm, it was broken, I wanted to know if you could fix it.”

Dabis finger went to your chin, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, a smirk on his face. “That’s cute, doll.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi #bhna dabi

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primatechnosynthpop · 3 years

Text

It's A Sad Webisode, But We Film It Anyway

(Aka, the things I write when I should be doing schoolwork...)

It was a cold, gray morning. The coldness was due mainly to the fact that Neil had left his bedroom window open the previous night, and the grayness was due to the fact that he hadn't cleaned the house in a while, leading to his walls being covered in a gray film of dust. Both those oversights were due in part to his natural aversion to housework, but also to the deep depression that was hanging over him lately, much like motes of dust. And that particular morning, his cold gray surroundings provided the perfect backdrop to his sullen morning routine.

It had been a whole week already. That was hard to believe. The sound of screams still rang in his ears sometimes when he closed his eyes, and he couldn't pass by that old house without shuddering (that much was already true beforehand, but now it was a deeper shudder, often accompanied by the prick of tears in his eyes). Worse still, he was hit with an overwhelming sadness every time his gaze landed on that urn… which happened often, because the urn was sitting right there on the kitchen table. He would have put it away somewhere where he didn't have to see it as often, but that would feel disrespectful. It was so weird to think that the little pile of dirt inside that urn had once been one of his best friends. It seemed like too small a container to fit someone so brave, so kind-hearted, so loyal. But there it was--all that was left of the true-blue American hero.

Neil heaved a weary sigh which turned into a yawn halfway through as he trudged into the kitchen. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes and pushed his bedraggled bangs out of his face, but his vision remained slightly blurry, so he took off his glasses and winced at the realization of how smudged they'd gotten. That wasn't even related to him being depressed about Kevin; he was just a mess that morning for no particular reason. But after wiping his glasses off on his pajama top and splashing some cold tap water on his face, he was all fired up for another day of wallowing in grief… just as soon as he had a nourishing bowl of stale cereal that just didn't taste as sweet these days.

As he was pouring his cereal into the bowl, though, something unusual fell out of the box--a little rectangle of shiny paper. Neil blinked, befuddled. His first thought was, did I just win a prize? He checked his cereal box for anything mentioning prizes or contests, but all he could find were nutrition fact charts. In fact, after tilting the box every which way, he finally found a line of text on the inside flap reading There are no fun prizes in here, just cereal. Eyebrows knitting together, Neil looked back at the scrap of paper tucked neatly amongst his cereal. Well, either the box was lying, or this piece of paper was something else altogether. Something like…

"It's a message from the studio!"

Neil's eyes were startlingly bright, and he had a grin to match. He was illuminated in the doorway by the rising sun behind him, which was just beginning to crest over the horizon. Did he usually get up and about so early in the morning? Moreover…

"They want us to make another webisode?" Ryan frowned as he examined the piece of paper Neil was shoving in his face. "Can we do that? I mean, you know, without…"

He trailed off, gaze dropping. Neil, naturally knowing exactly what he meant, sighed and scuffed his shoes against the porch. A moment of silence passed between them, during which they both thought of the missing member of their team. Making webisodes would be a lot different without Kevin, and probably not in a good way.

Then Neil suddenly brightened again. He stepped across the threshold into Ryan's house without an invitation--he didn't immediately object to it, so it was fine, probably--and shut the door behind him, not wanting anybody to listen in.

"Yeah, they want us to make a Greek mythology inspired webisode this time." He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and read out the note he'd received:

Dear New Kids on the Rock, sorry for your loss. We will be sending in a new team member to replace James sometime in the next month. In the meantime, you need to continue making movies if you want to keep getting paid. For your next webisode, we'd like you to make an adaptation of a Greek myth.

Sincerely, Plymouth Rock Studios.

"I see…" Ryan stroked his beard, eyebrows raising. "Perhaps we could adapt the myth of Erysichthon eating himself to death, or Lycurgus of Thrace being cursed with madness and mistaking his son for a plant, or…"

"No, no, don't you get it?" Neil interjected, shaking the paper furiously in Ryan's face. "This is our chance! We can do the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that way--"

Ryan realized what Neil was getting at just in time for them to exclaim it in unison:

"We can get Kevin back!!"

"You go fetch the filmmaking equipment," Ryan told Neil. "I'll open a portal to the underworld."

"Alright!" Neil enthused. "Be right back!"

He scampered off, grinning wider than he had all week--which wasn't a high bar to clear, because he hadn't smiled whatsoever all week, except for in the fleeting moments when he forgot what had happened to Kevin, only for that momentary forgetfulness to come crashing down and plunge him back into misery at the sight of the urn on the table. But that was all going to change now. Heck, he may as well just throw out that dusty old urn, because he wouldn't be needing it anymore after this mission.

Somewhere far below the aboveground realm of the living, in a dark field of ash that stretched forever, a soul wandered amidst countless others. He couldn't remember who he was when he was alive. He couldn't even remember his name. And worst of all, he couldn't see a thing. In fact, the only reason he knew he was in a dark field of ash was because all the other souls kept moaning about it.

Time here didn't flow the same way it did in the living world. He could have been there for an hour or for a century. It felt like the latter. But he had no way of checking, because even if there were any clocks around in this barren field, he wouldn't be able to see them. And he couldn't hear any ticking, so probably no clocks. But hey, on the plus side, no ticking meant no pipe bombs either. At the very least, he didn't have to worry about dying a second time.

And he was definitely dead. That was the one thing about himself that he was sure of. The one scrap of memory that lingered in his mind was the sensation of a tentacle piercing through him, severing his major arteries. Although he couldn't look down at himself to be sure, it didn't feel like this hole was still there when he patted himself. But he didn't have a pulse either, so… yeah. Definitely dead.

He'd like to say it wasn't so bad, really. He had all those other souls for company, right? But all of them were a drag to talk to. Most of them could only moan and groan, and those he encountered who could actually speak were too caught up in emotional turmoil to carry on much of a conversation with. So it was just an eternity of wandering blind and aimless through a desolate field of his fellow ghosts, then. Great.

"Geez, this place is giving me the creeps," Neil muttered, trying and failing to suppress a shiver as he surveyed the barren wasteland. "It's so… ghost-y."

Ryan flicked a clump of ash out of his hair with a disgruntled huff. "I'll say. Who would have thought the land of the dead would be so dull and gloomy?"

"Yeah, our webisode isn't going to turn out very visually appealing…" Neil shrugged. "Oh, well, I guess we can edit it in post."

They lapsed back into silence then, with the only sounds being the ash crunching under their shoes and the low moaning of the pale ghostly figures that weaved here and there around them. Then, after a little more walking, Neil stopped, struck with a realization that was accompanied by a pang of dismay.

"Wait. How do we know which of these guys--" He gestured at the countless ghosts milling around them, all featureless save for the vague outlines of indistinguishable faces-- "is Kevin?"

"Oh, yeah…" Ryan turned to look back the way they'd come. Keeping the portal between worlds open was expending a lot of his energy, so he hadn't been paying much attention to all the ghosts… "Maybe we even walked past him already and didn't notice."

"W-well, he'd recognize us, wouldn't he? I mean…" Neil shook his head, unwilling to even consider the possibility that they could encounter their friend and have him not know who they were. That was the kind of thing that happened in movies when people got brainwashed, and it usually led to some kind of big fight. He didn't think he'd be able to take Kevin in a fistfight.

Ryan prodded Neil to snap him out of his troubled thoughts. "Hey, maybe you could get his attention by playing a song."

"Oh, that's right!" Neil held up his trusty keytar, which he'd been carrying with him the whole time. "That is how the myth goes, isn't it? Let's see…"

He ran his fingers along the keys, playing a scale. A cold wind stirred in the previously stagnant air, blowing clouds of ash around--Ryan coughed and swatted the dust away from his face--but most of the ghosts didn't seem to notice, with only a couple of them slightly raising their heads before carrying on their aimless trudging. Still, Neil was encouraged. He kept playing, eventually branching away from scales and into the basic pop song chords.

According to the myth they were adapting, that was how it was supposed to go: someone goes down into the underworld, plays a song, finds the person they came for, and then they leave. At least that was the gist of it. Neil was too eager about this mission to bother poring through any dusty old tomes of mythology beforehand. He knew the basics, and that was the important part; everything else he could just make up as he went along.

Ryan nodded, satisfied with this development. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the video camera that he'd also been carrying with him the whole time, and started filming Neil playing his song.

"You're doing great," he called in encouragement when Neil's playing faltered. "Keep it up, and we'll lure Kevin out in no time!"

"I don't know…" Neil sighed, shoulders slumping. Looking around, he still didn't see any ghosts that looked like they might have been Kevin. "If this is where everyone goes when they die, then there must be hundreds of souls here--maybe even thousands. Do you really think we'll find him?"

"I'm sure we will," Ryan replied, but only because he knew that was what Neil wanted to hear. Truth be told, he was pretty skeptical about the prospect of them actually finding Kevin. And even if they did, he just had a bad feeling about this whole mission… he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some important factor they were forgetting.

Neil could sense Ryan's thinly-concealed pessimism, and it put a damper on his spirits, which were already pretty damp to begin with. Still, he wasn't ready to give up just yet. If nothing else, they had to complete their webisode so they could get paid. And so he straightened up, looked into the video camera, and launched into a bona-fide performance.

After an indeterminable amount of time spent trudging aimlessly around the void, music rang out through the ash-crusted air.

It was a rhythmic keytar beat, reminiscent of 80's synth pop. Surprisingly catchy. The lost soul raised his head and turned to face the direction the sound was coming from, and although he couldn't see, an image flashed through his mind. The mental image vanished before he could pin down what it was, but it left him with a sense of inner warmth--a sharp contrast to the desolate cold of the field. The music was good, then. He should go toward it.

At as brisk a pace as he could manage while maneuvering around the countless other wandering souls, he followed the source of the sound. A palpable excitement began to thrum through him as he ran. Somehow, this felt like coming home.

As he grew nearer, a voice spoke over the music--not singing, but a whisper edged with what sounded like concern.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep that portal open. Maybe we should leave."

Panic spiked through the lost soul, not unlike the phantom sensation of the tentacle piercing his body. Another mental image flashed through his mind: two men turning their backs on him and walking away.

"N-no!" he cried. "Don't leave me here!"

As soon as he spoke up, the music stopped. Disoriented by the silence, the soul staggered to a halt. If he still had a beating heart, he was sure it would be pounding frantically, and if he had lungs he'd be panting to catch his breath. As it was, he just stood still, staring sightlessly ahead and praying that he hadn't just been abandoned.

Then another voice spoke, quiet and shaky as though with disbelief.

"…Kevin?"

Well, you sure wouldn't know it was Kevin just by looking at him. He looked no different from any of the other countless translucent gray figures wandering around the field. The only notable difference was in his behaviour. Unlike all the other souls, only a few of whom displayed the slightest interest in Neil's keytar performance, this one was standing stock-still and appeared to be staring right at them.

"Is that… me?" The soul's voice was low and distorted. It didn't sound exactly like Kevin. But it didn't sound like someone completely different either. "Am I Kevin?"

Neil and Ryan exchanged an anxious look. What were they supposed to say to a question like that? After a moment, Ryan cautiously stepped toward the ghostly figure.

"I don't know… are you?"

"You…" The soul shook his head, his transparent outline of a face twisting into a pained grimace. "I know you, don't I?"

Looking at him up closer, Ryan noticed one physical difference that set this apparition apart from the others. Where all the other souls had the pale outlines of eyes, this one did not. Pulse picking up in excitement, Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Neil and waved him over.

"I think it's him."

"Really?" Neil made his way over to the soul and tried to pat it on the arm, but his hand just phased through it. "How can you tell?"

"Its eyes are missing, see?" Ryan poked his fingers through the empty part of the soul's face where eyes would normally be. "Just like what happened to Kevin."

"Oh, yeah…" Neil shuddered at the memory, which he'd spent the past week trying to put out of his mind. "Well, if it is him, then we should get him a new pair of eyes. He'll need them if we're supposed to keep making webisodes."

Throughout this exchange, the soul took in the achingly familiar sound of those two voices. He knew them, he knew he did! A series of mental images flashed through his head in quick succession, each vanishing before he could properly take them in. He clutched his head and shook it with a growl of frustration.

Then that last word stuck in his head. Webisodes… Yes, that was a familiar term. Another image flashed through his mind, and this time it lingered just long enough for him to identify it: two men--no, three men, himself included--hunched over a laptop, watching a little progress bar labeled "uploading…" tick slowly forward. He remembered drumming his fingers against the arm of the couch they were sitting on, chewing his lip, anxiously awaiting their newly made video to finish uploading to a certain website…

"H-hey, guys," he said slowly, incorporeal body trembling with the weight of the question, "What's that website called again?"

Eyes widening, Neil immediately snapped to attention, and began instinctively rattling it off.

"Http://--"

And suddenly the lost soul remembered, with the force of a tidal wave crashing over him, who he was. The three of them shouted it out together, in perfect unison.

"Hollywoodeasttv.com!!"

"Kevin," Neil gasped, tears of joy welling up in his eyes, "It really is you!"

"Yeah," he replied in a shaky voice, breaking into a grin. "It's me."

He flung his arms around Neil and Ryan, and although his ghostly form just phased right through them, he could feel their warmth, and it made him feel warm and alive as well. They stayed like that for a moment, huddled in a tearful quasi-embrace, until Ryan gasped and pulled back.

"Guys, the portal is closing. We've gotta run!"

Neil grabbed at Kevin's wrist. When that obviously failed, he got another idea. "C'mon, Kev, follow the sound of my instrument. We're gonna get you out of here."

They took off at an urgent pace, heading back the way they came. Ryan walked in front; Neil walked close behind, playing an improvised melody on his keytar; and Kevin took up the lead, only occasionally stumbling over one of the other spirits before righting his course and hurrying to catch up. When they got to the portal, it was still most of the way open, with easily enough room for them all to walk through. On the other side of that portal was the familiar interior of their clubhouse. Just a few more steps, and…

Ryan suddenly stopped walking, causing Neil to bump into him. At the sudden pause of the sound of his friends' footsteps, Kevin stopped as well. Neil prodded Ryan in the back with a puzzled frown.

"Hey, why'd you stop? We're almost out, we just have to--"

"…But that's not how the story goes."

"What?"

"We're adapting the myth of Orpheus, aren't we? He doesn't get Eurydice out of the underworld," Ryan said. Although he kept his voice level, a sharp pang of remorse squeezed at his heart as he spoke. "If we don't adapt the myth correctly, the studio won't be happy."

"Oh…" Neil gulped. "You don't think they'd fire us, do you?"

"I don't know, but we probably wouldn't get paid."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kevin asked, putting his hands on his hips. From his position a few feet behind them, he couldn't hear all of what they were saying over the groaning of the other spirits, but judging by their tones of voice, it couldn't be good.

Neil, beset by guilt at the prospect of leaving his friend behind, tried to glance over his shoulder at Kevin, but Ryan grabbed his head and twisted it back in place. If Kevin saw Neil looking at him with those plaintive puppy-dog eyes, he'd know something was up.

"Oh, nothing," Ryan said way too quickly and loudly. "Just saying how great it's going to be, you know, when all three of us are back in the world of the living…" He leaned in to whisper to Neil. "Listen, I don't like this any more than you do, but we can't take him back with us."

"But we came all this way," Neil objected. "Can't we just turn the video camera off now and edit it in post?"

"Are you talking about the video we're making this week?" Kevin interjected, walking up closer so he could hear them better. "What's it about?"

"It's, um," Neil stammered, "it's a--an inspiring sports movie?"

"Well, it's a good thing you guys came to get me, then," Kevin replied cheerfully. He slung an arm over Neil's shoulders, or performed as close an approximation to such a gesture as he could when he was still incorporeal. "What've you got so far?"

"O-oh, yeah, um… hang on, I've got it somewhere…"

Ryan tugged on Neil's sleeve and motioned toward the portal, which was now gradually growing thinner. "We should go," he reminded him in an urgent hiss.

"…Right, yeah… um…" Biting his lip, Neil gave a shaky nod of acknowledgement in Kevin's general direction without turning to face him. He couldn't bear to look him in the eyes (or lack thereof) just then. "Well, it's been nice seeing you again, Kev."

"Wait, what? You guys aren't taking me with you?"

The confusion and distress in Kevin's voice brought tears to Neil's eyes. Ryan drew in a sharp breath and held his head upright, forcing himself to retain his composure despite the crushing feeling of guilt pressing down on him. They thought back to the way they'd lost Kevin in the first place: running away from the ghoul without stopping to look back, thinking only of preserving their own lives, not realizing Kevin wasn't with them until they'd made it halfway down the block away from the manor, and by then it was too late. If they had stopped and looked back then, and seen that they were inadvertently leaving their friend behind, would they have run back to save him? Well, probably not. That ghoul was pretty scary. But they had another chance to save him now, and… well, they'd be a couple of real jerks if they left him behind again, wouldn't they?

They exchanged a glance, and the agreement passed unspoken. So maybe we won't get paid by the studio this week, Neil thought. So what? It'll be worth it as long as we've got Kevin.

"Of course we're taking you with us," Ryan said, and this time he meant it. He turned to address Kevin as he made this declaration, and Neil concurrently turned to face him as well, no longer ashamed to look him in the weird transparent eyeless face. "We came all this way to get you, didn't we?"

But as soon as they laid eyes on Kevin, a magnetic force took hold of him and yanked him backward. He yelped in surprise and tried to tug himself free, but was powerless to resist the supernatural pull. That was the very important thing they had forgotten--the reason for Orpheus's mythological failure. You weren't supposed to stop and look back at the person you were taking out of the underworld.

Realizing what was happening, Neil sprung into quick-thinking mode. "Ryan, hand me the video camera!"

"Alright, but what are you going to--?"

Neil answered that question before Ryan could finish asking it. In a fluid, decisive motion, Neil reached into the camera and pulled out the long roll of film from within. The film was instantly ruined upon exposure to the ashen air, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He hastily tied the film reel into a makeshift lasso and swung it forward with all his might. Kevin just barely managed to grab ahold of it.

But the forces of the underworld wouldn't loosen their hold on Kevin that easily. He continued to be pulled backward, and holding onto the film reel lasso caused Neil to get pulled along with him. Just before the force either dragged him away or forced him to let go of the film strip, Ryan grabbed Neil around the waist. Steadier on his feet now with his friend holding him in place, Neil began reeling Kevin back towards them.

With their combined efforts, the three of them managed to break free from the pull of the underworld. As soon as Neil had pulled Kevin in close enough that it looked like they'd be able to make it, Ryan released his grip on Neil and darted through the portal. A moment later, Neil slipped through it himself…

And then Kevin stumbled through, just milliseconds before the portal closed. In a reality-defying ripple, his flesh resolidified, ghastly blue-gray transforming into skin flushed with exertion, short messy dark hair, and the slightly rumpled clothes he'd been wearing when he died. He gasped, filling up his newly reformed lungs with fresh air.

Then his legs buckled with exhaustion after such an ordeal and he fell forward. Neil and Ryan were there to catch him before he hit the ground. Kevin sobbed at the sensation of their hands grabbing hold of him--no more phasing; he could feel them, solid and tangible. And they could feel him in just the same way. Driven by the sheer ecstasy of the moment, he lifted them off the ground--prompting a yelp of surprise from Neil--and swung them around in a clumsy circle before setting them back down.

"Oh, man," Kevin half-laughed, half-cried. "I missed you guys so much."

"Aw, gee, we missed you too," Neil replied, patting Kevin on the shoulder.

"Say, you won't be needing that urn anymore, will you?" Ryan asked. "Can I keep it?"

"Of course you can. In fact, I'll throw in an extra one, on the house."

With that declaration, he clutched his friends close to his chest and made a mental vow to never die again.

"So, how are the new eyes holding up?"

Kevin blinked and experimentally rolled his eyes up and down and from side to side. His vision was about as good as he remembered, and they were staying in their sockets securely, so…

"Pretty good," he said. "Thanks again, Ryan."

"Oh, it's no trouble. I'm just glad I was finally able to put some of the eyeballs I've been collecting to good use."

Neil wandered in just then, holding up a blank check. "Well, we didn't get paid by the studio," he announced with a sigh of resignation. He flipped the check over to show them the stern note scribbled on the back. "In fact, they're saying we'll rue the day we dared to defy their orders."

It was two days after their underworld rescue mission, and aside from the aforementioned threat from the studio, everything was going great. It was safe to say that the status quo had been effectively restored, and although the lack of payment was a drag, neither Neil or Ryan regretted their decision, at least not enough to go back on it. Having Kevin with them was worth more than one week's salary. And now that they were a trio again, they'd be able to make more movies in the future, unfettered by grief.

"Let me see that." Kevin walked over and took the paper out of Neil's hands. After giving the note a cursory glance, he crumpled it up with a dismissive scoff and tossed it over his shoulder. "Ah, who needs them?" he said, voicing what the others had just been thinking. "As long as we've got each other, we'll be fine."

And it was true: going forward, they all made more of a conscious effort to look out for each other, and through this newfound devotion, they persevered. After all, mortals were only allowed one free trip to the underworld. It was a good thing they didn't waste it.

#yes the title is a hadestown reference. no i never actually saw hadestown. we exist.#anyway as you can tell i was making more of an attempt to capture the vibe of the actual series with this one #instead of veering into epic depression moments #does that mean my mental health is improving? who knows. let me know what you think #anyway. yeah :3 #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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cagestark · 5 years

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Winterspider prompt if you're game! There's a meme about a poor college student being robbed; the robber, upon learning just h o w poor, stopping and giving the (empty) wallet back and being sincerely concerned. "You... you live like this?" What if the winter soldier/bucky barnes breaks into struggling college student Peter parker's apt and all his pre-serum steve instincts are triggered by the state of the place and how /tiny/ Peter is (abo/soulmates/soulmarks/werewolf au for spice up to you)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

This prompt came into my house and stole my money. This is CHAPTER ONE. Because I was so inspired that I’m officially making this my first multichap fic. I hope this will appease you for now…And I hope you can forgive me for making it winterironspider (I’m a sucker for starker/winteriron so it all just clicked together nicely). Please come back into my inbox and let me know what you think so far.

Warnings in this chapter: graphic descriptions of being poor. Bucky says fuck A LOT. Peter is 24 but Bucky keeps calling him “kid” because he’s so small. Sickness. 4.1k

Bucky can pick a lock in ten seconds flat.

It’s a science: tension wrench goes into the keyhole, the slightest torque is applied, then his favorite pick—the Bogota with three rakes, as of late—goes in and he scrubs the hell out of it until the plug turns. Easy as fucking pie.

The hard part (and he’s not counting the guilt, the horror he would feel if Tony ever discovered how Bucky makes the money he uses to buy his lover trinkets) is scoping out the right apartments. He sticks to NYU residence halls, early mornings and late at nights because the security is usually lax enough to let him through without even checking his ID—if they ask? Oh fuck, I left my wallet in my Uber. Maybe he hasn’t left yet, one sec—and then he’s out of there.

Today, it’s the Lafayette Hall between China Town and TriBeCa, reserved for graduate students seeking their Master’s Degrees in science fields.

It should be empty. On campus is an expo featuring innovators from Sphere Fluidics, Fasmatech, AcouSort, and NanoTemper Technologies which—according to the flier Bucky read online—are huge names in the science industry, all displaying their scientific discoveries from the last business year and scouting for fresh blood.

Any science major worth a shit will be there, he imagines. But it’s mandatory for NYU grad students. Score.

Content that the apartments will more than likely be empty, Bucky chooses the first hit at random after taking the elevator up: apartment 2B. It’s furthest away from the security camera at the other end of the hall—not that Bucky has ever left behind a reason for those cameras to be checked. It’s the principle of the thing, really. He keeps his back turned, hair in his face, both hands gloved (thank God it’s always cold and dreary in NYC, so his gloved hands don’t draw any attention) while he scrubs the lock. It takes him no longer than it might for anyone with a legitimate key, and then the door is open and he is in.

Bucky can see decently in the dark, the light from the hallway disappearing as the door is carefully closed behind him. Holding his breath, he stills himself, calls upon his enhanced senses, and listens: but there are no sounds coming from the apartment. Empty.

Then he actually takes in the place, and he realizes that that word fits in multiple ways.

The apartment is vacant, he thinks at first. There is the basic furniture all the NYU apartments come with: a refrigerator, a couch, a coffee table. But there is no television, no end tables. There are no curtains on the window across the room—and wow, what a lovely view of the brick building across the alley. The entire place smells musty and unused. Maybe it really is empty—

But no. Little signs of life appear. There are shoes by the door, ones that saw better days many, many days ago. On the wall, a photograph is tacked there, unframed, of two boys on either side of a pretty, dark skinned girl. A plastic grocery sack is dangling off of the drawer handle of one kitchen cabinet, sagging with contents that he can’t make out through the opaque plastic.

Someone does live here, they’re just terrible at decorating.

With careful, silent steps, Bucky moves deeper into the apartment. He doesn’t bother looking for a wallet—that will be with the owner—but usually there is money somewhere else. If he’s really lucky, he’ll find whatever he’s looking for.

Today, he wants blank CD’s. Last night, Tony showed him a movie where the teenage love interest burned—(“why’s it called that, Tony? You don’t burn the thing, do you?”)—a CD with love songs. It was real romantic shit; something Bucky never got to do. Something that he longs to do with this amazing man in his life. He can imagine the look on Tony’s face when he listens to a compilation of all the awesome music he’s introduced Bucky to, and it makes his heart race.

The Best Buy downtown sells a pack of five CD’s for $6.99 plus tax which brings the total to $7.61. That’s all that he needs. He could probably take that and more from any one of these apartments and the occupants would never notice. He isn’t hurting anyone. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

Then—jackpot. On the counter is a line of change: neat stacks of quarters and dimes, taller piles of nickels and pennies. Palming it, he cups one hand under the counter and slides the coins home into his hand. A quick count tells him that it’s just $2.30. It’s probably change for the vending machines downstairs, maybe fare for the bus. Nothing that will break this grad student’s bank.

For a moment he contemplates leaving the apartment. He’s almost got a third of what he needs for the CD’s. But breaking into another apartment just escalates the risks he takes, unnecessarily so when the rest of the money could very well be in the bedroom or even in the pocket of some jeans resting on the bathroom floor. No. He’ll press on.

Walking silently, he brings up the floorplan of the apartments in his mind (NYU had all that shit online; didn’t they know how unsafe it was? This world made information so available). The bedroom is on the left, past the kitchen. In the dim light through the window, he can see the door, open, a dark gaping mouth that he slips through soundlessly. It is even darker here, and he stands still waiting for his eyes to adjust further. It’d be no good to go fumbling around in the dark, knocking into furniture.

It only took moments, but as soon as he could make out dim shapes, he heard it. A little whimper. The rustling of sheets. Everything in him went still except for the blood in his veins, propelled by his furiously pounding heart. Someone is here. Bucky broke into an occupied apartment. He is standing in the doorway to a bedroom and there is someone sleeping in the bed.

He gets a glimpse before he can slink back into the living room, and what he sees stops him in his tracks. It is a boy—or a very small man, perhaps, considering these apartments are for graduate students only. The boy is wearing just a pair of boxers, some dark color—red or navy or even black, perhaps, since colors are distorted in this low light—but there is no hiding or distorting how thin he is. The shadows between his ribs are little valleys to the pale, jutting mountains of bone, rising with his fast, shallow breaths. The collarbones protrude, limbs fine-boned and so skinny that Bucky could probably wrap his fingers around an entire ankle or bicep. His face is smushed against one pillow so features are indistinguishable, but the mop of messy curls on top is unmistakable.

There is no bed. There is no bedframe, no mattress, no box spring. A pile of threadbare blankets and sheets are entwined into a makeshift nest, like the kid is some little bird.

After taking in the sights, he takes in the smell. It’s strong—damp and musty, like the windows have never been opened. The pungent scent of sweat. The overly sweet scent of cough syrup, though the two bottles on the nightstand are upended and empty.

Mostly, the acrid smell of sickness. A bucket is beside the bed, and the smell of vomit gets stronger the closer he comes—why is Bucky walking forward? He should be walking away, far, far away.

The boy whimpers again, rolling onto his back more. Sweat coats his skin, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest is even more pronounced in this position, tummy a hollow little thing. This boy is sick, very sick from the smell and the heat that Bucky can feel when he places his hand above the boy’s head, hovering over the skin.

“Ben!” The boy shrieks. Bucky jerks away and nearly topples the trash bin of vomit. His heart is pounding, thinking I’m so sorry Tony, so sorry that I’m going to get caught and get arrested and that you’re the only person in the world I’ll have to call, and if you don’t want to bail me out I’ll understand, I really will—but the boy sleeps on, lips moving. He is dreaming the feverish dreams of the sick.

Carefully, Bucky stands. He backs from the room. On his way out, he takes in more details even if he doesn’t want to: a name-badge for the building and NYU campus (which he takes, which he should have seen on his way in and known that it would be wherever the student was—complacent, he’s gotten too fucking complacent), the silver duct tape on the bottom of the kid’s shoes which holds them together. The past-due notices on the refrigerator. The paper plate resting in the sink, plastic cutlery that has been washed and re-used countless times. The kid is poor. So fucking poor.

And he can’t help that it reminds him of another sickly poor boy from nearly a hundred years ago. He remembers it like it was yesterday, fuzzy memories that Princess Shuri helped turn clear: a thin pale Captain America, the chest-deep coughs that would rattle his whole frame when he was sick, sitting by his best friend’s side through the night just to mop his brow and make sure he didn’t choke on his own sick. His stomach aches, twisting inside out with phantom hunger pains. Stepping into that apartment made him feel like he’d entered a time machine back to the Great Fucking Depression.

Another thought comes: what if the kid needs a fucking ambulance? What if he’s in there, brain frying from his fever? What if he throws up and aspirates? That will be on Bucky. There’s no way that he can walk away from this—not if it could add an(other) life, like a notch, to his murderous bedpost.

Palms sweating, he looks down at the badge he left with. Peter B. Parker. It’s a cute name—Bucky’s always had sort of a thing for alliteration. The picture of the kid is shy with the closed-lip smile and the rampant curls falling onto his forehead. He was skinny to begin with, but not malnourished like he is now. The badge will let him come in through the back doors. Because apparently he is planning on coming back.

Bucky pulls out his cellphone, mostly unused, and makes a call. While he talks, he takes the stairs down so that he doesn’t lose the call in the elevator.

Tony picks up on the second ring. “Hey Bucky, everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” In the background he can hear the sound of a door closing, and Tony’s voice grows more familiar, softer and more comfortable. He must have been around company but left.

“You only ever call if you’re about to break the law,” Tony says fondly.

Is he really so predictable? Well, in this case, he’s already broken the law, though that’s hardly a point that he wants to make. “No. it’s—nothing like that. I was just wondering about the credit card you gave me.”

“Oh? Thinking about blowing the dust off it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters. He hates it—hates being like the other million people in Tony’s life who just take his money. The fear that this man who has helped Bucky salvage himself, salvage the will to live life, to carve out a life he wants to live…the fear that he’ll think Bucky is just with him for the money is unconquerable. Tony gave him the leather wallet and the credit card years ago, and Bucky has never once used it. “Just a bit. Twenty dollars. Thirty at the most, Tony, and I swear I’ll pay you back—”

“Hey, hey, no need for the freaking out. Mi dinero es su dinero, polar bear. Buy whatever you need.” He pauses. “Are you in any trouble? I don’t know if you need me to emphasize this, but there’s probably no trouble you can imagine that I can’t get a person out of.”

“I’m not in trouble,” he says, hoping Tony doesn’t notice the unconscious inflection on the word I’m. “But I’ll remember that. I promise.”

“Okay. Great. That’s all I need to hear. Thai, tonight?”

Bucky can’t help but smile. He pushes open the back door to the building and steps out into the street, angling his face away from the security camera at the alley entrance on instinct. The wind is blistery, whipping his hair around his face. “I’ll be there.”

Tony hums. “I can hardly wait.”

They exchange declarations of love and say goodbye. Bucky feels a little choked up, how he always feels after hearing Tony say that he loves him. His eyes sting—but that’s just the wind. Honest. Down the street is a pharmacy and Bucky ducks in, head down. There’s an entire aisle for cold medicines, and he takes far too long examining all the bottles. Thank God there are ones that seem to treat everything: headaches, fever, nausea, cough. Everything except for the kid’s destitution.

He sees the chicken noodle soup and he grabs some of that as well.

Checking out is awkward; Bucky slides the card upside down at first. Then he’s unsure: credit or debit? He clicks credit since it’s first, but then he has to sign and he has a new dilemma. Should he forge Tony’s signature or put down his own? The card has his name on it, but it’s Tony’s money. In the end, he writes his own name. Forging feels too…familiar.

With less than twenty dollars spent, he trudges back down the block to the apartment building, and it isn’t until he’s swiping the key to get into the back door that he realizes he has no fucking idea what he’s going to do. Knock on the kid’s door? Hey, I broke in earlier and saw you were sick and out of medicine, here’s some. I’ll put the change I stole back on the counter. Sorry to fucking bother you?

Bucky Barnes, former assassin for Hydra, absolute dumbass.

Absolute persistent dumbass. Because he knocks on the door. He really fucking does. And when no one answers, he knocks again and again until he hears movement on the other side of the door (a chest-rattling cough that makes him shudder) then the door is cracked open and a bloodshot, honey-brown eye is staring out at him.

“Hi,” Peter croaks. His voice is wrecked, and it immediately does things to Bucky. Things that are wrong, especially considering that his voice isn’t croaky because of a cock nudging too persistently at the back of his throat, but because he is fucking sick. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to help you,” Bucky says. Peter’s eyebrows furrow. It’s cute. He’s wearing a shirt that is far too large for him, and pajama pants so long they slip down past the backs of his heels. “I’m—visiting one of your neighbors down the hall. You’re keeping everyone up with your cough, kid. I brought you some medicine.”

Peter opens the door wider, so that Bucky is seeing all of him instead of just a two-inch section. He rests against the doorframe because he’s swaying, struggling to keep on his feet, and he is so tiny, so, so tiny. The smell of him is foul, but Bucky would never mention it. “Gosh,” Peter says, and Bucky is horrified to see tears, real fucking tears fill his eyes. “I didn’t know I was keepin’ everybody up.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Bucky says. People say that, sometimes, to horses that are likely to buck off their rider or men who pull out guns in gas stations. Bucky figures that he should probably use either of those situations as reference for what to do now, because how to comfort a crying kid was not in the Winter Soldier’s repertoire. “Don’t shoot.” Fuck. Try again. “I mean—it’s not your fault. You’re sick. Obviously.”

Fat tears roll down Peter’s cheeks. It impedes his breathing even more, until Bucky is afraid that he’s going to choke on his own phlegm. When he speaks, he tries to keep his voice even and clear through his hitching breaths. The shirt slips off his shoulder, bones protruding. “I-I-I know. It hit m-me a-all of the sudden. But now it won’t go away.”

“Have you tried going to the doctor?”

Peter’s smile is downright tragic. He looks like he wants to reach out and pat Bucky on the cheek, call him a sweet summer child, ask him what pipe he smoked to have such a dream. “I d-don’t have insurance. I’m still trying to p-pay off my debt from last year when I had my tonsils removed.”

“And they—what—they won’t treat you? Just because you needed treating once before? They’re fucking doctors!”

“I know,” Peter whines, rubbing a wrist at his leaking nose. The door opens even wider. “Would you like to come in?”

Bucky sees the irony. He really does. A half hour ago, he was in this apartment robbing the kid. Now he’s standing at the kitchen counter watching Peter make ramen noodles (“my aunt always said that when someone is in your house, you should treat them like they live there”). He nearly burns his hand on the pan, and that’s when Bucky moves to take over, stirring when appropriate, adding a packet of flavoring. Peter pulls one bowl down from the cabinet—the cabinet that is unbearably empty from the quick glimpse Bucky gets of it.

“I only have one bowl, I’m sorry,” Peter says, face red, eyes downcast. His hands shake while he ladles the soup and noodles in. He gives Bucky one of the plastic spoons—it’s clean, he knows—but the whole thing is so fucking sad. When Peter glances over the counter, muttering something about some missing rent money, that’s it. That’s it for Bucky.

I’m taking him home with me, he thinks, nudging his spoon against the noodles in his bowl.

“I’m Peter, by the way,” the kid introduces himself. Then his face goes white, shaking intensifies. “Excuse me.”

Bucky hears him vomiting even through the walls between them. There isn’t much to come up, but the retching lasts forever it seems, the boy dissolving back into tears. Instinct says to go to him, but Bucky doesn’t want to be anymore of a fucking creep than he already is. When the vomiting turns to coughing and then to gasping, Bucky decides fuck it. He is a fucking creep. But he’s not going to let the kid pass out and crack open his head.

Peter is in the bathroom, bowed over the toilet, curls matting to his forehead with his fever. Bucky goes through drawers until he finds a washcloth and wets it from the sink, the water stinking of iron, to at least dab at the back of the kid’s neck. He shivers, but sighs into it, his wheezing breaths slowing.

When at last he leans back, his cheeks are red and wet. “Thanks,” he croaks. Bucky just mops at his forehead, avoiding the comical look of relief and pleasure on his face.

“You need a doctor.”

“Can’t afford it,” Peter mutters, reaching out to flush the toilet. Bucky practically carries him back to the kitchen-living room combo, setting him down on the threadbare couch.

“I’ll pay,” Bucky says. Then he winces—because it isn’t really his money. It’s Tony’s money. How can he just promise Tony’s money to this kid? But he can pay Tony back. No matter how long it takes or how hard he has to work. He’s got decades and decades left to live. He’ll spend them all trying to repay Tony’s kindness and love as it is. What is this one extra debt?

“What?” Peter asks, his eyes glassy with fever. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“A trip to the doctor costs hundreds of dollars, not to mention if I’m really sick, I’ll need medicine which will cost even more. I’m not taking that kind of money from you.”

“I’m rich,” he half-lies.

Peter looks him up and down, the worn boots, the soft but unremarkable jeans, the gloves that he’s still wearing even though they are indoors. While he doesn’t look destitute, the idea comes across loud and clear: Bucky sure doesn’t fucking look rich.

He sighs. “Fine. It’s my boyfriend. He’s rich.”

“You want me to take your boyfriend’s money? I’m—what? I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Bucky,” says Bucky. “And my boyfriend is Tony Stark.”

Peter’s mouth clicks shut. His eyes clear a little, the name cutting through the sickness. “Tony Stark.”

“Yeah.”

“The billionaire.”

Bucky can feel himself smile against his will. “Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero. Yeah, he’s the one.”

Peter reaches out and puts his burning hand against Bucky’s forehead. “Maybe you’re the one who is sick,” he teases weakly.

“I’m serious,” Bucky says. He pulls out his phone and Googles it—hopes the kid doesn’t see the tab of Lafayette Hall dorm room floor plans that was previously open. Then he brings up the tabloids. He and Tony aren’t in the news as often as they were years ago when they first started leaving the Tower together to do couple-things, but the articles last forever. There’s a nice one detailing all about Tony’s promiscuous love life, how everyone thought the bisexual ways of his youth were just a phase. Until Bucky.

The pictures are clear. Peter’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re dating Tony Stark. Oh my god. I’m—I’m his biggest fan. Oh my god. I think I’m going to pass out. I’ve—” the kid goes red as a beet, “I’ve had a crush on him since I was like, like this tall.”

Judging by the height of his hand when he holds it up, Peter’s been harboring his crush on Tony since ever. And yeah, Bucky gets it. His lips can’t help but quirk upwards—Peter is so fucking cute, even with he way his cheeks are hollow, eyes sunken. He lights up when he talks about Tony. Bucky is the same way. Tony inspires that in people.

“I’ll pay for you to go to the doctor. See? I can afford it.”

Peter gnaws at his lower lip. “But why? I don’t get it. Because I’m keeping everyone on the floor up? That doesn’t—this is weird.”

“Because you remind me of someone I used to know. My best friend, from when I was a kid. He’s—he’s not around now. But you two would have gotten along well, I think. And he would’ve kicked me in the ass if he knew I just walked away when I knew you need help.” He can see the indecision on the kid’s face, the wavering teeter-totter of what he wants to say (yes yes yes) versus what he thinks he should say (no, but thank you). Bucky has an ace up his sleeve: “Why don’t you come back to the Tower with me? Meet Tony. He’ll tell you all this himself.”

“I couldn’t!” Peter nearly shrieks. He coughs, and Bucky waits patiently for him to finish.

“You could. You totally could. You will. I’ll call a car—”

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers under his breath, his whole tiny body going lax and weak like a woman from Victorian times, likely to swoon at any moment. Where are Bucky’s smelling salts? “Oh my god,” he says, soft and to himself. “I’m going to meet Tony Stark.”

Bucky can’t help it. He grins, pats awkwardly at the kid’s shoulder—and Jesus, he’s a tiny little thing, still burning up under Bucky’s grip. “He’s going to be thrilled to meet you.”

Peter insists on showering and changing his clothes. Bucky steps out into the hallway to call Tony back and warn him—and ask him to send Happy or one of the self-driving cars. Anything to avoid taking a cab or the subway.

“Twice in one day,” Tony says when he picks up the phone, forgoing a greeting. “Aren’t I a lucky man?”

“I’m the lucky man, ‘s far as I can tell,” Bucky says lowly. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine Tony’s expression, the ridiculous fond face he makes when he looks at Bucky. “I had a favor to ask of you, though. A big one.”

“Anything for you, frosted flake.”

“Send a car to the address that I text you? And—order Thai for three?”

#winterironspider #starker #multichap #chapter one #bucky breaks in #peter is sick #tony is tony #tw: poor #tw: sickness #winterspider #cagewrites

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