#THE LINGERING SHOT OF THE FLAG!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nadvs · 1 month

Text

bittersweet (one-shot)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary rafe both loves and hates that you’re his sister’s best friend. he gets to see you all the time, but it’s a constant reminder of what he can’t have… until one night, when his jealousy takes over and he can’t keep himself from you any longer.

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Rafe wonders if you know that he can hear you. It’s just false hope, but maybe you’re trying to make him jealous.

You’re in the bathroom getting ready for tonight’s party with Sarah, your pretty laugh reverberating through him as if he’s right next to you.

But he’s not. He’s never been as close to you as he would like to be.

His bedroom is right next door, where he’s sitting in bed, wasting time scrolling on his phone, eavesdropping.

“You’re lying,” Sarah says.

“I’m dead serious,” you reply. “I’ll read it to you.”

Rafe overhears you reading out a text you got from your ex last night… he loves you, he misses you, he shouldn’t have ever broken up with you.

He remembers seeing you in tears a few weeks ago when you visited his sister. Admittedly, he lingered by Sarah’s closed door, hearing you sniffle through your words about how he had dumped you out of no where.

It made his blood boil knowing someone did that to you. But like always, he pretended like you have no effect on him, later passing you by in the hallway without a single word exchanged.

“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Sarah asks after you finish reading the message.

“No way,” you reply. This makes Rafe’s heart feel a little lighter. Until he hears your next words. “I hope that guy I was talking to last weekend shows up tonight.”

Rafe fucking hates hearing you talking about guys you like. His crush on you is too big to not let it rattle him. And tonight, he might have to watch you flirt with someone that’s not him in his own fucking house?

He can’t take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to see you standing by the mirror, your makeup halfway done.

“Do you have to be so loud?” Rafe snaps.

The only way he can talk to you without throwing any flags up is by being a dick. And admittedly, it kind of feels good getting his sexual frustration over you out like this, even though it’s severely misguided.

Sarah only rolls her eyes, having fully resorted to ignoring him at this point, but you smile at him in that way that makes his heart jump.

“Okay, grumpy,” you laugh. You’re in baggy sweats and big t-shirt and still manage to look fucking stunning. “You’re one to talk.”

Rafe knows you’re referring to the many fights of his that you’ve witnessed, both with his family and with people at parties.

He hates that your smile and your teasing make him want you even more.

He scowls at you but before he steps away, his eyes linger on you a little longer than you think they should. Wishful thinking, you tell yourself. You gave up on the fantasy that Rafe will look at you as anything more than his sister’s annoying best friend a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Sarah says, apologizing on behalf of her brother like always.

“Don’t worry about it,” he hears you respond. “I know what he’s like.”

Rafe shuts his door. What he’s like. You don’t fucking know what he’s like at all.

If you knew that you’re his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, you’d realize he’s so fucking grumpy because he doesn’t get to talk to you how he wants to. Or touch you how he wants to.

He’ll have to avoid you at his party tonight. He’s not interested in seeing you flirt with some jackass.

That night, Rafe is halfway into a beer, zoning out of the conversation his friends are having around him.

You’re on the other side of the room, arm linked with Sarah’s. You’ve changed out of your comfortable clothes, wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Man, what he’d do to you if he had the chance.

But he knows he doesn’t. You’ve seen him at his worst. Who in their right mind would want him?

As you chat with Sarah, your eyes drift to Rafe every so often. You can’t help it.

There’s something about his presence that’s so magnetic and dominant. And why is it when he’s wearing his hat backwards like that, your stomach does somersaults?

You need to get your mind off of him. It’s never gonna happen.

Then your eyes land on your ex-boyfriend, who just entered the room.

Rafe watches your face drop and your eyes lose their light. You turn to look at Sarah, whispering something to her, then disappear into the crowd. When he realizes your idiot of an ex just showed up, it takes everything in him not to crush the solo cup he’s holding.

He told himself he’d avoid you. He needs to keep his own promise.

Later in the night, you’re filling up your cup at the keg when you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Don’t hog it,” he says, a joking tone to his voice. You turn to see your ex standing behind you. You only furrow your brows, in disbelief that he thinks he can speak to you so casually.

You don’t respond and he awkwardly shuffles in place.

“Did you get my text?” he asks.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say. It’s been weeks, but being with him again brings it all back, the way he told you he doesn’t see a future with you anymore. Instead of sorrow, though, you just feel anger.

“Can you just… can you give me five minutes?” he asks.

“Leave me alone,” you tell him. Rafe appears behind your ex, his blue eyes fixed on you. He’s angry like he always is, his jaw clenched.

You figure he’s annoyed that you’re using the keg when he wants to top up his own drink.

“I don’t get why we can’t just-” he continues, but is interrupted.

“She said to leave her alone,” Rafe mutters. Your ex turns around to face him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.

“This is my house.” Rafe has to duck to talk to him. The image stirs something in you. “Either stop bothering her or get the fuck out.”

Your ex turns to look at you, shaking his head in confusion.

“This your new boyfriend?” he asks, voice thick with envy.

“What? No,” you reply. The way you look almost appalled by the prospect makes Rafe feel like his heart is being wrung out.

You almost laugh. As if Rafe would want you.

Your ex turns to face Rafe again. In the tension of the moment, you feel a lump form in your throat. Anger from what your ex did to you. Embarrassment that he won’t leave you alone. Excitement that Rafe is defending you, followed by a sharp sadness that he’ll never see you the way you see him.

Rafe is about to swing at him. But then he sees the look on your face and his anger dissolves.

“Fuck off,” Rafe says sternly.

Your ex looks at you incredulously. You’re sure he knows Rafe would take him down in a second.

When he walks away, leaving you and Rafe just a foot apart, you flatten your lips as you look up at him.

“Thanks,” you say quietly. You never thought you’d thank him for anything.

Rafe’s eyes soften when he realizes your eyes are wet with the threat of tears. You feel mortified to be crying in front of him, so you leave your drink on the table behind you and brush past him, stalking upstairs to the same bathroom you did your makeup in.

Your hands grip the counter as you look at your reflection. You managed to swallow down your tears, determined to have a good night.

Three knocks thud against the door.

“Someone’s in here!” you say, weak voice echoing through the small room.

“It’s Rafe,” you hear.

Your heart leaps. What the hell could he have to say to you?

You swing open the door to meet his gaze. He’s wearing an expression you haven’t seen before.

Rafe can’t fucking take it anymore. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, boxing you in between his body and the wall. His arms are crossed to keep himself from touching you.

“Why were you with him?” he demands.

“What?” you ask. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. This is Rafe. Mad is his default setting.

“He’s obviously a fucking idiot,” he snaps. “And an asshole.” You’re not sure if this is some cruel display of annoyance, but you don’t have the patience for it.

Still, a part of you is buzzing to be alone with him.

“Why are you giving me shit right now?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. He brings his hand up to yours, pushing it away from your face.

It’s the first time his skin has ever touched yours.

“Why were you with him?” Rafe repeats. He’s so close to you that you can smell him. His aroma is earthy, like a comforting campfire. But nothing about him is warm. Never has been.

“How do you even know…” you mumble in confusion. You realize you have no clue how he knows that the guy he almost fought downstairs was your ex. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”

“I heard you,” he says. “I heard you crying over him. Why were you with someone who said that shit to you?”

Rafe recalls the way you told his sister that your ex called you names during your last fight. It made him sick.

You freeze for a moment. He heard you? Why the hell would he care to listen?

“Well, sorry I was being loud,” you say, still a little bitter about how he talked to you earlier tonight even though you had laughed it off in front of him. “Can you just… give me a break? It’s been a shitty night. I don’t need you judging me on top of it.”

“God, that’s…” Rafe steps back, taking off his hat just to smooth his hair back and put it back on again. “I’m not judging you.”

“Then what are you doing?”

A few heavy, tense seconds pass between you. Rafe is looking down at you, at how pretty you are, at how badly you need to be appreciated.

Then he leans down to press his lips against yours.

You were wrong. Rafe does have warmth to him. He’s nothing but warmth right now. The way his hot mouth captures yours and the way his hands cradle your cheeks fill you with need and happiness and a whirling sensation of unsteadiness.

Is this actually happening?

Rafe’s whole body buzzes when you kiss him back, your hands hooking up around his arms, palms on his shoulder blades. He’s pressed up against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue running over yours.

He wasn’t annoyed. He was jealous. You feel dizzy from the revelation.

Your back is flush against the wall, Rafe’s body curved against yours. He bites on your bottom lip for a second, sending an arousing pinch of pain through you, as if he’s punishing you for making him yearn for you.

The contradiction between your mind and your body is jarring - you thought he was annoyed by you, but he’s kissing you like he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t kiss you before.

Tasting and touching you like this makes Rafe harden, and he perches his hips back, unsure if this is too much for you. When your hands slide down to roughly pull his hips back towards you, he doesn’t need any more signals. You want him just as bad and it makes every inch of his skin burn.

Rafe shifts back, forehead pressed against yours, unable to open his eyes for a second.

“I need…” His voice is hoarse. He can’t do it like this. Not with you against a wall in the bathroom. “Let’s go to my room.”

You nod and follow him, letting him lead you onto his bed.

Your eyelashes overlap as Rafe hovers over you in his dark room, kissing you again. Tucked away from the crowds and music downstairs, all you can hear is the sounds of your lips smacking together and his fast breaths.

You spread your knees apart so he can settle between your legs. Desire consumes you as he grinds his cock against you. The sensation awakens the need you’ve had for him for so long but always told yourself you’re not allowed to feel.

You can’t help but feel a gnawing fear that this is just a meaningless encounter to him. You’re not equipped to deal with being just a piece of ass to Rafe. Sex with him will change everything. It needs to be worth it.

You gently push against his chest and worry floods through Rafe that he did something to make you uncomfortable.

He’s looking down at you in the shadows of his bedroom, his breaths shallow and fast.

“We shouldn’t…” you begin, and he nods quickly, arms straightening to sit up. Shit. He fucked up by kissing you. He’s not worth the risk to you.

But again, you pull him back in, this time with your hands cupped on his shoulders.

“Rafe, wait,” you breathe. “I’m saying… we shouldn’t if you don’t…” You take a beat to gain some courage. “I like you. For real. I’m not doing this if I’m just a hook-up to you.”

Rafe didn’t realize how heavy his heart sat in his chest until he hears you say that. He looks at you with wonder.

“You’re not just a hook-up,” he says, as if it’s obvious to you. “I like you so fucking much. I have for so long.”

“You mean it?” you ask. You realize this man has the power to break your heart.

He kisses you like you’re so damn delicate, like you could break in a second. The way you just said that, the edge and fragility of your voice, makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. You feel it, too. It’s not just him.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean it.”

Your lips meet again with even more heat this time. He grinds against you with more pressure than before, his erection hard and big.

The fact that you’re the reason he’s so turned on is unreal.

Rafe’s hands dip under the hemline of your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs. You tilt your hips up off the bed to offer him the space to pull your dress up. He immediately takes the invitation, watching you in awe as the fabric slides over your chest, your shoulders, finally off your body.

His open mouth attaches to the flesh of your breast, kissing and sucking. He pulls the cup of your bra down to close his lips over your nipple. The sensation makes you tremble and moan.

Your pretty sounds are better than anything he has ever heard.

His tongue flicks and wriggles over your nipple, then he moves to your other breast, eager to give all of you the attention you deserve.

“Let me eat you out,” he stammers. “Please.”

“Yes,” you whisper.

For so long. He said that he’s liked you for so long. Your mind is rustling with excitement and disbelief, your thoughts tangling together as you think back to every time he looked at you. Every time he spoke to you.

It’s crazy to think you can now reframe all those memories, knowing what you know now.

Rafe pulls your panties down and wishes his lights weren’t off so he could see you better. But what he does see in the dimness confirms what he always knew - that every part of you is beautiful.

You feel his fingers spread you apart, the cool air pressing against your core. The image makes his stomach numb with infatuation.

“Fuck,” he says, nearly whining. “Fuck… I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could do this.”

“Me, too,” you admit breathlessly. “I never thought you… wanted me.”

“Of course I do,” he half-chuckles. He regrets ever making you feel like you’re not desirable. You’re perfect.

Rafe dips his head. You’re like sugar on his tongue. You gasp when he presses his mouth against your clit. He can’t believe how much arousal is pooling between your legs as he starts to lap at you.

“You’re so wet for me,” he praises, planting a kiss on your cunt. His tongue twists and curls and when it dips inside of you, you feel like you’re on another planet.

He readjusts his hands to spread you even wider, wanting to pamper every fucking inch of you.

You bunch his hat between your fingers and throw it off of him to feel his hair. You dreamed of touching his hair for so damn long. You can’t help but tug at his roots as he gifts you with the best feeling you’ve ever had.

The thick, wet sounds of him slurping fill you with bliss. His mouth is giving you so much damn pleasure, the same mouth that would snap at you and frown at you and make you wonder why he disliked you so much.

It was all an act. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

You felt how big he is when he was grinding against you. You need him to fuck you. Now.

“Rafe,” you moan.

“Hmm?” he says, mouth still closed around your clit, sending a vibration through you.

“Get inside me,” you whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”

His heart is thrumming with exhilaration. He still can’t believe that you want him.

He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans with such fever that you smile in endearment. He’s moving like you’ll change your mind or come to your senses or something.

He sits over you on his knees, holding his cock at the base. It’s big and curved so fucking perfectly that you start to ache for him even more.

This will change everything and you’re so glad it will.

Rafe slowly drops to rest on his elbow on top of you, his other hand guiding him into your soaked entrance. You shudder in near unison as he pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.

“Damn,” he groans, unrestrained. “You feel so fucking good.”

“What you expected?” you ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone.

“Baby,” he laughs. The nickname makes your body tingle. “Even better.”

He pulls back slowly, then buries into you again, a deep, languid exhale leaving his lips. He ducks to kiss you as he fucks you slowly and lovingly, stretching you out, your chests pressed together.

His pace begins to quicken, the curve of his cock hitting deep inside you so perfectly.

“Can I go harder?” he asks against your mouth.

“As hard as you can,” you request. He shudders as he pulls back and slams into you with all his force. Your body jolts, his bed squeaking.

“Be mine,” he says between thrusts. “I need you to be mine.”

“I am,” you say. “I always was.”

This sends him over the edge. He’s about to cum, but he needs to get you there first.

To your disappointment, he pulls out, but when his mouth is back on you and his fingers are scissoring into you, you lift your feet off the bed and throw your head back.

Your walls start to flutter around him as you cum and he quickly shifts to stuff his cock back into you so you’ll finish around him. He feels his gut tighten and he explodes into you with a string of oh, fuck’s, your pussy squeezing around him in pulses as he spasms through his orgasm.

Rafe loves the way your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He feels so needed by you. It’s like a drug.

He collapses on top of you, holding himself up the best he can so not to crush you.

You’re both sweaty and breathless and smiling. He dips his head to press his warm cheek against yours as you remain wrapped up in each other.

“So was I,” he mutters against your ear.

“What?” you breathe, your legs numb from pleasure.

“I was always yours, too,” he says. He kisses the side of your neck, wishing he could never leave this moment. You let out a sweet laugh, squeezing his big, hard body tighter.

He’s never going to make you doubt if he really likes you ever again. He’s sure of it. He silently vows it as he kisses your neck countless more times.

inspired by this anon! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

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cr-komi · 4 months

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"I Need to Know"

Summary: After a daunting sex experience, you're left with the idea that you're bad at sex, but is that really true? Or should you go to someone else to see if they can be honest with you about the truth?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader (F)

Genre: Smut, fluff (just a little bit at the very end)

Word Count: 6,200+

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!), multiple orgasms

Author's Note: I'm back! It was super fun writing the last story so I'm doing it again :) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as the last. Again, it's not really proofread per say? More like I just skimmed through it to quickly check for mistakes. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wait, what did he tell you?"

Your best friend, Sana, had been resting lazily on the arm of the couch, quietly listening as you recollected the events of last night: going to a bar, meeting a guy who, unfortunately, was a total walking red flag, although due to your state of intoxication you were too blind to notice, getting into a car with him and going back to his apartment, and totally fucking up by having sex with him.

To your dismay, your memory had been completely clear, up until the moment you slept with him.

"He told me I was a bad lay." You mumbled, head hanging low.

"Jesus, what an asshole," she retorted, maneuvering herself so that she was facing you, insead of the wall she was previously eye-to-eye with, "why do you think he would say something like that?"

"Well, I know why, actually." You responded, eyes still averted towards the plush rug beneath you, "because the morning after we...you know...did it, he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, and I said...well, I said no."

Your words echoed in the stillness of the living room, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The shame of your confession still lingered heavily in the air, a painful reminder of your poor judgment.

"Okay," Sana said quietly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. "So he asked you if you wanted to like...date, and you said you rejected him. Then what happened?"

"Well...he got all mad at me. Saying shit like, 'Oh, I only got with you as a joke,' and 'You're nothing more than just a cocksleeve,' then he told me I sucked at sex and kicked me out."

"Don't worry, Y/N, you probably just bruised his ego and that's how he responded. It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed over."

You looked up at her, your eyes welling with tears. "I know, but I can't get those words out of my head. I mean, does he really think I'm bad at sex? Granted, it's not like I'm an expert or anything like that but--"

Sana reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Sweetie, you're not bad at sex, trust me. He was just...mad but you'll both get over it. Don't let one asshole ruin your self-image."

"I'm trying, but it's kind of hard, you know? Everytime I try to have sex with a guy it lasts two minutes so they can use me to get themselves off, and then they move on to someone else. I just wish I could find someone who would be honest with me about this whole situation, someone who--"

Suddenly, a light switch went off in your head. You did know someone who could truly tell you if you were bad at sex or not. It may not be ideal, but you can only hope he'll say yes.

"I just...I just thought of something." You whispered, a hint of excitement and nervousness in your voice, "I know someone who can help me out. Someone who could... validate my skills in bed."

"Who is it?" Sana asked, equally intrigued and cautious.

You shot up from your seat on the floor, your phone falling out of your lap in the process, causing a loud crash to erupt the silence that had settled between the two of you.

Sana flinched at the sound, but continued her feat to get an answer out of you, "Well? Who the fuck do you know that can help you out?"

"Uh, it's uh...it's a little weird," you stammered, gently grabbing your phone from off the floor and checking for damages, although none were visible. You didn't want to go through with this, but deep down you knew it was the only option you had.

"Come on, Y/N, spill the beans!" Sana prodded, her voice filled with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, your face flushed with embarrassment, "I...I can't I promise I will tell you everything later but can you...will you..."

Sana laughed, "You want me to leave?"

"No, it's not that I want you to, it's just--"

Sana slowly got up from her spot on the couch, “Say no more, Y/N, I know you'll give me all of the juicy details later."

Sana smiled and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, giving you the space to collect your thoughts.

You took a deep breath and gathered your courage, "Okay. I want you to know that this is... unconventional, but I know it's the only way I can get an honest answer."

"Don't worry, girl, I trust you. Have fun though, and be safe!"

You laughed quietly, "I will."

With a smile on her face, she blew you a kiss before picking up her shoes and gracefully departing. As she closed the door gently, you could hear a soft 'click' resonating in the air.

With a resounding sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, calming your shaking nerves by reminding yourself that you'll get through this. You can't change what happened, but you can take control of what happens next.

With a hint of uncertainty, you muttered to yourself, "Alright, here we go."

You started scrolling through your contacts, nodding as your fingers finally landed on the desired number. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the dial button, initiating the call.

After a few rings, he finally picked up.

"Hey, Y/N, I haven't heard from you in a while." His voice was raspy, almost tired in a way, and you wanted nothing more than to simply hang up the phone and live your life with the fact that you're probably bad at sex, but you pushed through.

"Yeah, I know. How are you?" You tried as hard as you could to seem as calm as possible, willing yourself to steady your nervous breathing.

He laughed into the phone, "I'm good, tired, I guess, but that's how things usually are."

You forced a laugh, "Yeah, you're right! Th-that is how things go, that's e-exactly how I'm feeling right now. Life after college isn't easy but I-I'm getting through it and I--" You winced, realizing that you had been prattling on for the past minute about things he probably doesn't care about, "S-sorry, I'm rambling."

You could hear him smile through the phone, "That's okay." He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before continuing, "So, what's up? Did you need something? Or did you just want to check in?"

"Oh, no! I definitely have something to ask you. It's just...kind of hard to say over the phone, can you come over?"

It was dead silent over the line, and you just wanted to crumble into a million pieces. You were so embarrassed. Why did you think this would work? Why did you even think he would say yes to--

"Sure. I'll be over in an hour."

Suddenly, the line went dead, and your mind went numb. Was this really happening? Would he really say yes to this like you hoped he would?

Probably not, but a girl can dream.

Your heart began racing as you realized how close you came to humiliating yourself with your idea. But now, you had a chance to prove yourself and get some real answers.

"I guess I need to get ready." You mumbled, checking the time before scrambling to the shower, ready to shave off every hair on your entire body.

---

The steam enveloped you, a warm cocoon of mist that promised transformation. You stood beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the remnants of the moments spent waiting for when you could finally see him.

Your fingers combed through your hair, lathering the strands with jasmine-scented shampoo; the fragrance was your favorite, lingering on you like a whispered secret.

"Focus," you murmured to yourself, rinsing the suds from your hair, watching them swirl into the drain. "It's just hanging out, not a life-changing event." But your heart’s fluttering betrayed your casual words.

You reached for the razor, gliding it along your skin with practiced precision, erasing the stubble in smooth strokes. Each movement was methodical, an effort to distract your mind from wandering towards him — his smile, his intellect, his unexpected kindnesses.

"Stop it," you chided yourself, but your lips curved upwards despite the reprimand. "You're just going to jinx it."

After turning off the water, you stepped out onto the plush bath mat, reaching for the towel in an attempt to begin and patting your skin dry. The mirror was fogged over, a ghostly canvas before you. With a sweep of your hand across its surface, your reflection peered back, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability etched onto your features.

"Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Moisturize, makeup, and then--" Suddenly, a loud bang at the door caused you to jump out of your skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was simply your imagination playing tricks on you. But the sound echoed in your ears, undeniable and frightening.

"Who could that be?" You thought, pulse quickening. Fear gripped your chest as you flung the towel around your body, clutching it tightly to your still-damp skin.

"Coming!" You called out, voice wavering slightly. You hurried to the door, your bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, leaving wet footprints in your wake. Every step fueled by a sense of urgency, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

As you reached the door, you swung it open, revealing the last person you expected to be standing there, despite your phone call from earlier.

Namjoon.

He blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door in such a state.

"Namjoon... What are you doing here? You're early," you stammered, taken aback by his unexpected arrival.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at you. "I wanted to come earlier. I just... I don't know, I felt like I needed to see you sooner."

His gaze lingered on you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of droplets of water cascading down your body, tracing rivulets over your collarbones and along your arms. It was clear that he hadn't anticipated this turn of events, and his obvious distraction only added to the electric charge in the air between the two of you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. You couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense gaze, even with the towel wrapped securely around you.

"Uh, yeah," he said again, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you or anything."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at him, trying to discern his true intentions for coming early. Was it simply impatience that had driven him to your doorstep, or was there something deeper at play?

"Can you give me a moment to get dressed?" you asked softly, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Then we can talk."

"Of course," Namjoon replied, stepping back from the doorway. "Take your time."

"No, no," you continued, slightly stuttering, you can come in, I just need a minute. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or something if you'd like."

Namjoon nodded, noticing the tremble in your voice. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he crossed the room and sat down on the couch. You closed the door behind him and retreated to your bedroom, quickly pulling on a Brandy Melville tank-top and shorts set.

You didn't put on a bra or underwear underneath...just in case.

You emerged a few minutes later, your hair still damp and looking slightly disheveled. Namjoon was still sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but alert.

"So," he began as you took a seat across from him. "What did you want to ask me?"

Oh, fuck. Here goes nothing.

"Well...I-I was out the other night," you began, voice trembling with nerves, "and, well, me and this guy, well we...I mean he...I mean we met a-at the bar."

Namjoon nodded, listening intently, never taking his eyes off of you.

"So, we went back to his apartment and...well...we, you know, did it."

Namjoon chuckled, feigning innocence, "I think you may have to spell it out for me, Y/N."

"We had sex." You deadpanned, hands shaking slightly, "a-and when I woke up in the morning, I'll spare you the details, but...he told me...h-he told me I-I was a bad...a bad lay."

You could see the disgust and hurt flash across Namjoon's face at the mention of this guy's insensitivity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at you intently.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to hear something like that, especially not you."

"Well...thank you but, I didn't just ask you here for your sympathy."

Namjoon's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Oh? Well then why did you?"

"Because I..."

Just do it Y/N, it's now or never.

"Because you...?" He continued, trying to make you finish your sentence.

"Because I want your opinion."

You averted your gaze towards the ground, too nervous to gauge his reaction.

"My...opinion?" He echoed, clearly confused.

"I want to know if I'm really bad at sex or not. So...I asked you over because I know you'd be honest with me."

"Y/N, what are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you to fuck me...?"

You mumbled the last part, almost embarrassed to have spoken it aloud. Namjoon stared at you for a moment, shocked, before finally speaking, "Is this a joke?"

You hesitated, not sure if this was the right move, but you knew you had to be honest with yourself. With a deep breath, you looked up at Namjoon, meeting his eyes with determination.

"No, it's not a joke," you said firmly. "I want to know, from someone I trust, if I'm really bad at sex or not."

"I-I don't know, Y/N. I mean, seriously? We haven't seen each other in over a year and now you're suddenly asking me to fuck you?" He rose from his place on the couch suddenly pacing back and forth in front of you.

"I know it's sudden but...please if you'd just listen--"

"Y/N, stop. This wouldn't work out. Ever. I'm your brother's best friend."

"But Namjoon, is that--"

"I-I have to go," He interrupted, making a beeline towards the door in an attempt to escape the situation, but you couldn't just let him walk away like this.

Frustrated, you rushed towards him, grabbing him as quickly as possible before he could leave.

He paused, refusing to look at you and instead averting his gaze to the hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Please, Namjoon, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper. "I know this is sudden, but I need some closure. I need to know if--"

In an unexpected turn of events, you found yourself taken aback as Namjoon suddenly gripped your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against the door behind you.

The intensity of his tightening grip on your shoulders sent an electric jolt through your body, and you felt your heart rate quicken as you looked up into his eyes. They were filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You have to understand something, Y/N," He whispered, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your cheeks, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to just fuck you senseless, right here, right now, but I need to know how serious you are."

You looked into his eyes, two twin pools of darkness that seemed to be clouded over with lust, "S-serious?" You stammered, "I-I am serious, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes pierced into yours, leaving no room for escape from this bold new territory, "Are you sure that this is what you want? You're not afraid of any sort of consequence that might follow?"

"No," you responded, steadying your voice in an attempt to sound confident, "I'm not afraid, Namjoon, I want this. Please."

He looked down for a moment, and you could tell he was battling his inner conscience, deciding on whether he should really fuck his best friend's sister or not.

He released his grip on your shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, clearly still conflicted.

You could see the desperation and need in his eyes, trying to muster up the courage to do the very thing he knew he shouldn't be doing.

I mean, was this really the right thing to do? What if in the end--

"Fuck it."

He closed the distance between you two, his lips crushing down onto yours in a passionate and hungry kiss. He was taking control of the situation, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

Your hands shot up to his face, your fingers entwining with his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands began to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he ground his hips into yours.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Namjoon began to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You felt his breath on the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

As his mouth returned to your lips, you could taste the remnants of his hunger and desire. The tension between you seemed to melt away, as you felt your body respond to his every touch. The wetness between your legs grew with every moment that passed, as you pulled him closer to you.

"Namjoon," you breathed out, your voice a whisper that seemed to hang in the air between you. His hands embraced your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against your own. You felt his erection against your thigh, a powerful reminder of how much he wanted you right now.

You moaned softly, arching your back in response to the sensation, and Namjoon responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer to him.

Slowly, he began to guide you towards your bedroom, stumbling through the hallway as you went, your legs feeling weak from the desire that was pooling in your lower half. You hit the bed with a soft thud, Namjoon quickly following you down. He hovered over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you knew you could easily satisfy.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready, and you knew it.

He wasted no time in removing your top, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whispered, his fingers brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden even more.

You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as Namjoon began to suck on your right nipple, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His left hand slowly trailed up your stomach, over your chest, and cupped your other breast, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh, causing you to gasp.

You felt a sudden rush of heat spread throughout your body as he swirled his tongue around the tip, you've never felt anything like this before—his touch is electric, his kisses like tiny explosions on your skin.

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only serves to fuel your desire.

"Namjoon," you breathe, voice hoarse, "Please."

He smirked against your skin, "Tell me what you want, baby."

“Wanna feel your mouth on me.”

He pulled away from your nipple, trailing kisses down your stomach while his fingers traced down your side, up your thigh, until he reached the waistband of your pants.

“Take them off, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a raspy plea.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached down and slid off your shorts, revealing your pussy to him. He groaned, clearly impressed as he took it all in.

“No underwear, huh? I guess you knew this would happen.”

You nodded, “Uh huh– oh, fuck!”

He leaned down and licked your outer lips, causing you to gasp and arch your back in pleasure. You moaned in delight as you felt Namjoon's warm, wet mouth close around your clit, his tongue dancing over your sensitive nub.

Your hips bucked up off the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact as he began to lap at you, sucking softly. The sensation is exquisite, the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive folds sending shivers down your spine.

You gasp as he deepens the pleasure tenfold, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, your head thrown back with a soft whimper.

"Fuck," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, "that feels so good."

You can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.

You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly as his tongue flicks over and around your clit, driving you wild. Each time he licks you, you shudder, your body tensing in anticipation of the next stroke. You close your eyes, unable to contain your ecstasy, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You're lost in the sensation, ignoring everything but how amazing his mouth feels on you. The bed squeaks softly as you rock your hips, meeting each of his movements with your own.

His scent surrounds you, musky and arousing, igniting a fire inside you that burns hotter with every passing moment. His hands squeeze your thighs harder, teases you with his tongue, relentless in his ministrations.

You can feel the heat building inside of you, climaxing ever closer. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you near the edge, throat working to swallow back the moans that threaten to escape, but Namjoon stops you.

"I want to hear you, Y/N."

His words unleash a torrent of emotion in you, and you let out a loud moan as you begin to lose control. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him tighter against your sex as your hips buck wildly.

"I can't hold on," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable.

Namjoon smiles against you, and his fingers begin to move in time with his tongue, probing at your entrance, and you cry out, hips rocking off the bed.

You're close, so close, and you want release more than anything.

With a sudden surge of motion, he adds another finger, pushing it deep inside of you, stretching your walls. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he begins to thrust his hand, filling you up.

Your breath catches in your throat, you arch your back, fingers digging into his shoulders.

The combination of his fingers and tongue on your sensitive flesh is too much to bear, sending you spiraling over the edge. "Namjoon," you whispers, voice thick with desire, "I'm coming--"

Your body tenses, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. A moan rips from your throat as you come hard, hips jerking off the bed.

Your walls grip at his fingers, and your nails dig into his shoulders. You quiver and shake, your whole body shuddering from the force of your release.

"You taste so fucking good, Y/N."

When you finally calm down, you feel the warm stickiness between your legs, the taste of him on your tongue.

Your eyes flutter open to see him smiling at you, his face flushed with pleasure. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you flinch from oversensitivity.

You slowly lift yourself up after coming down from your high, meeting Namjoon's eyes, clouded with desire and want.

You lean forward, reaching for his obvious erection, palming him through his pants.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Take them off," you murmur seductively, your voice dripping with lust. Your eyes never leave his as he unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection. It's hard and thick, and you can't help but stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest in anticipation.

Your hands shake slightly as you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft, feeling how hot and hard he is. You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions, the way his eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. You can see the desire in his eyes, and you know that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the head of his cock, teasing him with the promise of what's to come. He lets out a low groan as you trail soft kisses down his length

His shaft, before finally taking him deep into your mouth. You suck on him gently, using your tongue to tease and play with his sensitive head. Namjoon groans, his hands threading through your hair as you pleasure him, your lips slowly moving up and down his shaft.

His hips buck, trying to thrust into your mouth, and you let him, gagging slightly but continuing to take him deeper and deeper until his entire length is inside of you. You moan around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him, the warmth and the power you have over him.

"H-holy shit, Y/N. Fuck that feels so--fuck."

You pull back, sucking hard on the head one last time before releasing him. You look up at Namjoon, who is looking down at you with an expression of pure desire.

His hands find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken locks as he struggles to maintain control. He moans your name, encouraging you to continue, his eyes closing tightly as he loses himself in the sensation. The sound of slurping and smacking fill the air as you bob your head up and down, your mouth working him almost mechanically.

He can feel the bed dipping slightly with every thrust of your head, your bodies moving in sync. The scent of arousal fills the room, and Namjoon knows he's close to the edge. He begins to pant, his breath coming faster as he nears his climax.

Sighing he grabs your hair tighter, pulling you off his dick and forcing you to look up at him, "Enough, I don't want to come before I'm inside of you."

Namjoon lets go of your makeshift ponytail, and reluctantly, you pull away, sitting on your haunches before him, waiting to see what he does next.

He roughly tugs his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, silently pleading with him to remove it so that he can be bare in front of you.

He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His rippling muscles and toned abs are revealed, sending a shiver down your spine.

Namjoon's sculpted body was, in his words, "a testament to the hours of dedication he committed to both his physical and mental well-being." His broad shoulders tapered downward into a lean, chiseled torso that showcased his defined pectoral muscles. The light caught the edges of his rippling abs, seemingly amplifying their strength. His arms, strong and toned, were equally impressive - a result of countless hours spent lifting weights and perfecting his form.

You stare at him in awe and reach out, wanting to feel his body against yours. You pull him down onto the bed, your hands exploring every inch of him as you kiss him passionately. His hands run through your hair, gently pulling it back as he takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

His body presses against you, your breasts flattening against his chest as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsating, pushing against your thigh.

Your hands explore his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He lifts himself up, breaking the kiss, and you feel his weight shift as he positions himself between your legs.

He stares at you for a moment with questioning eyes, "Ready?"

You nod eagerly, breath hitched in anticipation. Namjoon slowly pushes himself inside you, your walls tightening around him as he fills you completely. You gasp, arching your back as your body adjusts to his girth.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

He begins to move, thrusting slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds your rhythm. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

"Shit, Namjoon!" You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain as he hits just the right spot. His movements become more urgent, and you can feel his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust.

"F-fuck Y/N. You’re so tight babe." He growls, his hips pounding into you.

You whimper, your body trembling from the sensation of his dick filling you up and stretching you out.

You're so close, so close to coming undo--

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls out of you, and you whine at the empty feeling, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Namjoon, what are you--"

"Turn around," He interrupts, grabbing your hips, "ass up."

You blush at his words, but your arousal only deepens as he helps you turn around, and he positions himself behind you.

He rubs the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing you and making you crave him even more. You moan softly, reaching down to guide him inside you.

With a swift, powerful thrust, Namjoon slams into you, filling you completely as the bed creaks beneath the two of you. You cry out, your hands flying to your mouth to stifle the sound, but your voice gives out and you let out a yelp.

Your heart races as Namjoon's hips slam into you, feeling the thick length of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust.

You moan loudly, a hand clutching onto the sheets underneath you and the other running through your hair.

The headboard hits the wall with a loud thud as Namjoon forces himself deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body trembles under the onslaught of sensations - the feeling of being here, the pleasure spreading through you, the sound of your skin slapping together.

"Damn, you have such a nice ass," Namjoon pants, his breaths coming in short gasps as he smacks the supple skin before running his hand back over the spot he marked to soothe it.

You whimper in response, it only serves to intensify the experience for you, the sting combining with the delight of being taken so roughly.

You thrust your hips back towards Namjoon, meeting his movements with equal force, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.

"And these tits," He growls, leaning forward to cup your left breast, rolling the nipple through his fingers, causing you to moan loudly without restraint, body trembling with anticipation.

Namjoon growls low in his throat, his free hand finding its way to your puffy clit, rubbing it gently as he thrusts into you.

"Oh god, Namjoon!" It's almost too much for you to handle - the dual sensations are driving you wild.

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don't want it to end yet, not when Namjoon is treating you like this.

With a groan, Namjoon pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in with more force than before. Your fingers dig into the mattress beneath you, breath hitching as your walls tighten around him, "Fuck, Namjoon, I'm so close!"

"Yeah? You gonna come again, baby?"

"Yes, Namjoon, please!"

Namjoon smiles wickedly, increasing his pace as he feels your desire growing. He grabs the back of your hips, pulling you harder against him as he thrusts deeper inside you. His thrusts are rough and unrelenting, his hips pounding into you with each powerful impact.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, the juice from your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto the bed. The sound of your breaths and his grunts fill the room as the tension builds. Your nails dig into the mattress, leaving small indentations as you cling to the fabric for dear life.

His hands roam over your body, caressing your skin and heightening your sensitivity. He tweaks your nipples, causing you to cry out with pleasure and pain. His fingers explore your inner thighs, trailing along your sensitive skin, making you tremble with desire.

"Oh, shit," Namjoon groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels his own orgasm beginning to build.

With a final burst of energy, you push back against him, meeting his every thrust as he pounds into you, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each strong movement.

"Fuck, Namjoon!" You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as you feel your climax beginning to take hold.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so close," Namjoon growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

Your walls tighten around him once more, pulling him deeper inside you as you scream out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you feel the waves of your release crash over you. Your walls tighten and release around Namjoon's pulsating cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.

His own release is becoming too much to hold back, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud groan. Your name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure, "Holy shit, Y/N!"

His hips stutter, body trembling as his orgasm overtakes him. You can feel his warm, fluid spilling inside of you, filling you completely. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before - it's intense, it's overwhelming, and you love every second of it.

He holds you tightly against him, his breath hot against the back of your neck, as he slowly starts to regain his composure. His heart is pounding against your back erratically.

You slowly open your eyes and look back at him, a content smile gracing your lips. "That was incredible, Namjoon," you breathe, your voice soft and sultry.

He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he moves down your shoulder. "I think I agree," he murmurs, his voice already starting to calm down.

You both lay panting, your bodies entwined, the sweat glistening on your skin, the scent of passion filling the room. He pulls out of you, his cock wet and sticky from your connection. He pulls his hips away from you and collapses next to you on the bed, both of you trying to regain your breath.

The seconds pass into minutes, and you both lay there in content silence, your bodies entwined, the remnants of your encounter still lingering between you.

Namjoon's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. He leans in close to your ear, whispering, "Let me clean you up."

"Mmm, okay," you reply, your voice still thick with lust.

He gets off the bed and grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, bringing it back to you.

Slowly, he turns you over, and you lay on your back, your legs spread wide, his body hovering above you. He takes the cloth and smiles, gently dabbing at your sensitive folds, cleaning away the remnants of your sexual encounter.

You moan softly, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasms. His touch is soothing, yet it sends shivers of desire through you. He continues to clean you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds as he does so.

Once he's finished, he places the cloth on the nightstand and lies down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

His fingers trace the curve of your hip, massaging gently as you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of what the two of you have just done.

The room is filled with the sound of your heartbeats, in sync and pounding in rhythm with each other. You feel safe and secure in Namjoon's arms, and you turn to face him, a gentle look etched into your features, "So, what did you think...?"

He softly strokes your hair, "About what?"

"Well...am I a bad lay...?" You mumble the last part and he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"No, absolutely not. You were...perfect. He was probably just upset that you rejected him and that's how he reacted."

You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat syncing with yours,"I'm glad you're here with me," you whisper.

Namjoon nods, "Me too."

You smile, feeling his warmth enveloping you.

The tentative silence is broken by Namjoon's voice as he speaks, "Do you want me to stay the night?"

You think for a moment, "Yes, please."

"I'll be right back," he says as he gets off the bed, returning a moment later with a clean sheet and blanket. He carefully covers the two of you with the cozy layers, your bodies pressed closely together.

"Sleep well, Y/N." He whispers.

"Sleep well."

As the night progresses, you both drift off to sleep, the dim light from the moonlight streaming through the window casting soft shadows on the wall. The scent of sex lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the passion that had just passed between the two of you. You are lulled into a peaceful slumber, your hearts beating in harmony with each other's rhythm.

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bemusedlybespectacled · 6 months

Text

y'all. y'all. I cracked the fucking code and I am so fucking mad about it because it's a fix that solves every major problem with the finale:

have ed get shot (injured, not killed) in defense of izzy.

seriously, hear me out, this solves LITERALLY EVERY PROBLEM:

"Ed never gave Izzy a real apology!" "Izzy would never accept one!" okay, then don't have Ed apologize to Izzy verbally. have him apologize by taking a bullet for him. have Izzy cuss out Ed for doing something so stupid while cradling him in his arms.

"Ed never gave the crew a real apology!" okay, then have him get shot defending Izzy as both a subtle callback to Izzy shooting Ed in defense of the crew in "red flags" and as proof that he's changed.

"it makes no sense for Izzy to say the whole crew loves Ed when that hasn't been shown at all!" okay, then show it. any lingering hatred the crew has gets wiped out when they see that Ed really does care about Izzy (keeping in mind that him not treating Izzy well was a major unifying thing for them), and they all work to help him: getting the bullet out, holding his hand, telling him he's going to be okay. Ed's accepted back into the family because of his deeds, not his words, and we get a nice call back to the scene where the crew makes Izzy's leg.

"Izzy's death was all about Ed and Ed's arc and that's fucked up" okay, so have there be a REASON that Ed is the center of attention (the reason being that he's been shot and the entire crew needs to care for him) and make it actually part of Ed's arc (acting selflessly in defense of them when he's been pretty self-centered and not really accepting responsibility this entire time).

"it makes no sense for Ed to retire to an inn on land when we just established that he's bad at things that aren't piracy!" okay, then don't have him retire voluntarily. he needs to recover from his bullet wound on land, and so the crew needs to reluctantly leave him behind.

"it makes no sense for Stede to retire to an inn when his entire arc has been him finding a family in the crew and getting the respect he never had!" okay, so make it a really difficult decision for him – staying on land with Ed, the love of his life, or staying with the crew and being a big bad pirate – and ultimately choose Ed. have Ed even try to talk him into staying with the crew, because he loves piracy so much! but given another choice to leave Ed (one that Ed would be aware of and understand), he stays this time.

"Izzy's death is inconsistent with the rest of the series where the good guys survive absurd levels of violence and the bad guys die hilarious karmic deaths" okay, so don't have him OR Ed die. have Ed get shot, have him be seriously injured, maybe even fake us out by having him get shot on the right side (which is of course the side with the important bits!), and then have him live.

"Izzy dies right when he was starting to enjoy life and find his own family/community outside of Ed!" exactly. so don't kill him. shoot Ed. and then have Ed retire on land.

#ofmd meta #izzy hands #edward teach #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #our flag means death

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roosterr · 1 year

Text

murphy's law

a/n: ive had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to dump it out of my brain for all of you to enjoy. somewhat inspired by lunarvicar's amazing wonderful fic to the flame i really love her writing so check it out yo also i haven't written anything in years so cut me some slack :')

pairing: captain john price x gn!reader

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can't seem to catch a break.

no use of y/n, callsign is 'vantage'

no physical description, but reader is (very) vaguely implied to be shorter than price

warnings: descriptions of injury (nothing too graphic), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor character death, i don't know how the military works lmao, lots of swearing bc i can't help myself

word count: 8.6k

read it on ao3 here

✹✹✹

it was a straightforward mission; in and out, grab what you need, and you'd be home in time for dinner. nothing you hadn't handled before.

ghost and price were on overwatch; the lieutenant was positioned with his rifle on a rooftop across the street, whilst the captain stayed in the suv with a laptop to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras around the exterior of the building.

you'd had your eyes on this intel for months now, biding your time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your opening had finally arrived, and with all that time spent planning, it was going so well.

that should have been the first red flag.

the second, more apparent, warning sign was that anything you found as you, gaz, and soap swept the building was either something you already knew, or irrelevant. how was that possible? the location of this facility was a heavily guarded secret, you'd fought tooth and nail to find it; why spend so much effort hiding something which had such little value?

you'd ventured to the second floor, up the damp stairwell and further into the eerily quiet building. there must be something worth hiding here, you just had to find it. you certainly weren't planning on going home empty handed.

you paused your movement into the dark, staring down the empty corridor through the sights of your gun. you felt your stomach turn, and swallow down the sick taste of bile in your throat. for everything you'd done to get here…

it was going so… well.

bringing your hand to the radio on your chest, you don't bother to calm the shake in your voice before speaking.

"does this feel off to anyone–"

you're cut off by price's shouting, a twinge of panic in his voice you aren't used to hearing from him.

"fuck– it's an ambush! get out of there, now!"

you're about to respond, when you hear gunshots from below you. soap and gaz were downstairs, where the hostiles were pouring into the building, and you were on your own upstairs.

the shots from ghost's rifle make your ears ring, even from across the street.

"vantage, get yer arse down here, there's too many of 'em!" soap's yelling brings you out of your haze, and you can't find the energy to respond as you take off running, back to the stairs you came up. "shit– man down! gaz is hit! they're coming up, vantage!"

you just about register what he said when the door to the stairway bursts open only a few metres ahead of you. diving into the nearest open room, you narrowly avoid a bullet to the gut, and slam the door shut behind you.

shit. fuck. fucking shit.

you counted at least four hostiles up here, and with gaz injured, soap would most likely be dragging him back to the suv you all arrived in, where price was waiting, which meant…

you really were alone.

well, ghost was out there, but he was a man of self preservation. he wouldn't risk coming in here to save you. not when you were this fucked.

your chest felt tight, now, and you could hear the enemies shouting on the other side of the wall. come on, you plead with yourself, do something!

snapping your head to look around the room you'd trapped yourself in, your eyes linger on the filing cabinets lining the wall next to you. you can drag them over here, barricade the door.

prolong your survival, or delay the inevitable.

you hadn't noticed how hard your nails were digging into your palms until you went to grip the cabinet. the half-moon divots stung against the cool metal as you heaved it in front of the door.

now the hostiles are outside, rattling the wall with their attempts to kick the door down.

you drag another one, for safe measure. you pray they'll be heavy enough.

through the blood rushing in your ears, you can just about make out price's voice.

"vantage, answer me dammit! what is your bloody status!"

"i'm good– i'm good," you manage to get out between pants, never once taking your eyes off the door. willing your heartbeat to slow down. "not injured, just– stuck in a room upstairs."

"that doesn't sound good to me."

it all went quiet when he spoke to you. at first you thought it was just because your focus had shifted– because it was him– but it really was quiet now.

"yeah, i… they're– wait, they're not at the door anymore, they…"

hold on.

what?

"ghost, you got eyes? what's happenin' over there?" there's a sense of urgency to your captain's voice, and for a single selfish moment, you think he might be worried for you beyond that of a just soldier. your frenzied mind lingers on that thought.

the gruff voice of ghost brings you back to reality,

"they're setting charges– vantage, you need to find a way out."

charges. explosives.

all you can muster is a half-hearted, "shit…"

deep down, you know that isn't going to happen. you wouldn't have time to run down the stairs, and even if you did you'd only be walking right into their bullets. there's nothing they can do to help. and you think, deep down, they know that too.

this is it, then, you think to yourself, am i really going to die like this?

and for another fleeting moment, you're filled with regret that you would never get to see john's face again. all the stolen glances, lingering touches, inside jokes; none of it would ever amount to anything. would he remember you? would he even come back for your dog tags?

the tightness is back in your heart, but it's different this time.

your eyes still don't leave the door as your back hits the wall. the faint moonlight gives the room a soft glow, serene, and your heart sinks further into your stomach.

the moonlight;

the window, the outside.

not an ideal escape route, but these were hardly ideal circumstances.

you didn't waste a second with hesitation and backed up for a running start. you thank every deity you can think of that you always insisted on wearing a helmet.

this was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative.

"van, you have to get out, please!" you're not even sure who's talking in your ear anymore, but you know who you want it to be.

for him, you think to yourself, i have to make it back to him.

with a deep breath, you take off into a sprint, tucking your head into your elbow and diving shoulder first through the glass.

as you free fall out the second storey window, you think you hear john calling your name, your real name, and you think you feel a flutter in your chest. it was almost peaceful.

and then you hit the ground.

with a thump and a sickening crack, you rolled unceremoniously and ended up on your side, in the snowy alleyway behind the building you were just trapped in; the building that was about to be demolished. your elbow muffled your pained cry.

right, explosives, the reason you jumped to begin with.

your teammates are still going berserk in your ear, yelling at each other or you or both, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you could answer them once you were a safe distance away– and when you could breathe without heaving. as you stand, swaying on your feet, you feel your ribs shift in a way they definitely aren't supposed to, filling you once again with the innate urge to vomit.

but you swallow that down; it'll have to wait, you need to get as far away as possible, now.

your hands braced your broken ribs– and you notice, then, that your shoulder is killing you too– as you stumble down another alley, leading away from the building. you slip and almost fall on the untouched snow, but somehow manage to catch yourself. in the back of your mind, you notice you lost your rifle at some point. you'd have to survive with just your pistol.

for a moment, you almost felt that you'd gotten away, that you'd made the perfect escape.

of course, it was too perfect.

the charges finally went off. you were thrown forward, and despite your helmet, everything went black.

✹✹✹

your ribs flared with agony at the ragged breath you took, blinking your eyes open as consciousness returned to you. darkness swarmed your vision, contrasting the pure white of the snow that was slowly freezing your extremities, and you fought with every bit of self-restraint you had not to cry. your eyes stung anyway.

how long were you out? you were still in the alley, and you hadn't been found by anyone yet, so it couldn't have been long. i need to move, is the only thought swirling in your head. with what little strength you could muster, you rolled yourself onto your back to look at the ruins behind you.

dust filled the air and coated everything in sight, obscuring your vision almost fully; but what you could make out, was the lights from your enemy's guns as they swept the rubble.

looking for you, presumably.

shit shit shit.

you had god knows how many broken ribs, your shoulder was fucked, and now your vision was swimming, and to top it all off you could barely hear yourself think over the violent ringing in your ears. this night just kept getting better and better.

it took everything in you not to scream at the agony as you dragged yourself behind a fallen dumpster, sitting up against the cold brick of the building behind you in an attempt to catch your breath.

in. out. in. out.

in.

out.

every move had your bones creaking in protest, the longer you sat here the more you felt every little cut and bruise and shard of glass littering your body. the dust in the air tickled your throat and threatened to make you cough up a lung, spots in your vision danced like fireflies, luring you back into the clutches of sleep.

no… i can't rest yet, you urged yourself to fight your drooping eyelids, i have to get back to the suv… they're waiting… for me…

the crunch of debris under heavy boots snaps you back to the present.

someone was approaching.

the optimist in you wanted to believe it was price, coming to rescue you. but you couldn't take that chance. your hand grips the pistol on your hip, drawing it out slowly to make as little noise as possible.

the shadowed figure came stumbling into view. your arm straightened to aim at their unprotected head, eyes wide and breathing laboured.

the man– the boy– locked eyes with you, flinging himself backwards to the wall opposite you with his hands held high.

your expression hardened. he was your enemy. his uniform made that clear. for a moment, neither of you moved, you weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore. like two wild animals, locked in a staredown, each of you waiting for the other to make the first move. which one of you was the hunter, and which one was the prey?

shooting him will draw his comrades over here. sparing him means he can call them over himself. a lose-lose.

lost in your internal debate as you stare at him, you vaguely notice his hand lowering to his belt, and in a moment of panic, your heart clenches in time with your finger to deliver a shot right between his eyes.

his body slid down the wall, a perfect mirror of your own as the life fades from his expression.

shit. again.

his friends must’ve heard that. with renewed, adrenaline fueled vigour, you scramble across the alley, and begin rifling through the packs on his chest and belt.

a twinge of guilt fills you as you notice his empty holsters. he wasn't even armed.

shaking your head, you find what you're looking for; a morphine shot. at least, that's what it looked like, the words on the label were swimming with the concussion you surely had. it would have to do.

you take the syringe carefully, and stick the end into the muscle of your thigh, through a rip in your pants you hadn't noticed before, and inject the solution. it would take a minute to kick in, but hopefully the painkiller would help you at least make it back to the suv where your team was waiting.

where price was waiting. god you hoped they were okay, him especially, though he was probably in the least danger of you all. what you wouldn't give to have stayed in the car with him.

pocketing the empty syringe, you spare another glance at the boy's face. his wide, lifeless eyes. the pack he was reaching for. the same one you found the morphine in.

he… was going to help you. and you'd killed him.

oh god. the realisation has your stomach turning for the third time that day.

you pressed his eyes shut and pushed yourself to stand. as you trudge your way to the far end of the alley, you keep your eyes forward. there wasn't time to linger.

with a deep breath, you steel yourself and begin to make your way through the cold, abandoned streets of the small town. the suv wasn't far, only a couple blocks away. it wouldn't take you long to get there, even with your injuries.

somewhere in the distance, you could hear terrified screaming, presumably the residents who were forced awake by the sound of the explosion.

now that the ringing had died down, you realise that you hadn't heard your teammates in a while. absent-mindedly, you bring a hand up to press the comms, and you almost start talking before you feel the plastic crunch under your fingers.

"oh for fucks sake."

of fucking course your radio was broken. it must have been crushed when you were flung forward by the explosion.

brilliant.

whatever, the suv would be in your sight soon anyway, you don't need it.

the cover of night made it significantly easier to hobble through the streets unseen, thanks to your all black gear. the enemy were still hovering around the destroyed building, but at least that meant they thought you were buried under there. hopefully they would stay distracted long enough for you to make it back.

god, fuck, you really couldn't wait to get back to base. you desperately needed a shower hot enough to melt your skin to scrub off all the dirt and blood from your body. the morphine had started to kick in now, but you still felt your ribs shift unnaturally with every heavy step. you'd definitely need a few weeks off to recover from this one, and you’d probably get an earful from the captain. you’d kill to hear his voice right now, even if he was yelling at you for being an idiot.

only a little further. then you’d be back with the safety of your team, with this godforsaken place in the rear view mirror. with the promise of being able to rest, your limbs seemed to grow heavier as the exhaustion finally made its way into your bones.

except, when you turn the final corner, you freeze, an ice-cold dread sweeping through your veins.

the car was gone.

it wasn’t there.

they weren’t there.

there was a stretch of tarmac that fresh snow just beginning to fall had yet to cover, tire-tracks that showed the u-turn the suv had done, blood on the snow from– you assume– gaz, empty bullet casings from the fight they put up.

but no suv.

no teammates.

no john.

no. no, no no no. they couldn’t have left you. that wasn’t how you did things in the 141. it was no man left behind, you knew that. maybe they’re just circling the area, you rationalised, desperately trying to calm your ragged breathing, yeah, they went to look for me. they wouldn’t leave me behind.

but they weren't here.

and as you followed the tire-tracks down the street, they didn’t go back into the town. they made a straight line, directly to the dirt track leading into the wilderness, clear as day in the snow. back the way you had all gotten here earlier that night.

your knees dampen from the snow, the painkiller in your system keeping you from feeling the impact. when did you fall over? there was no attempt to stop the searing hot tears this time as they ran through the dirt caked to your face. your throat constricted, lifting a hand to your mouth to muffle your hyperventilating.

they were gone.

long gone, without you.

they really had left you behind.

a mumble from somewhere to your left interrupts your breakdown. grief morphs into blinding rage for a split second; can i get a fucking break? you swing your arm still holding the pistol to point at whoever was watching you, twisting your abdomen in a way that has you gritting your teeth.

a woman, clutching her young son, shielding his eyes and ears from you.

you lower your gun. that’s not a mistake you’ll make twice. catching her eyes, you gesture for her to be quiet, which is quickly met with her frantic nodding.

it reminds you, you’re still not safe here. you were supposed to be, but hey, it looks like plans change. no man left behind– what a load of horseshit. you push yourself onto shaky legs, you only had a few hours until the morphine wore off, and you needed to be out of here before that happened. as fast as you could possibly muster, you begin to stumble towards the dirt track that disappears into the treeline, following the slowly disappearing tire-tracks.

✹✹✹

you managed to make it into the woods faster than you expected, and you found a fallen tree slightly off the path to take shelter behind while you licked your wounds. literal and metaphorical.

this was unbelievable. how could they leave you like that? if they’d only taken the time to do a quick lap of the building, they would’ve found you laying face down in the snow, and this whole mess could have been avoided. where were they off to in such a hurry anyway? it’s not like you guys had found anything sensitive.

oh, wait. gaz was shot. that had briefly slipped your mind. perhaps you were being a little selfish by getting so worked up by this, but then again, for all they knew you could have been in the same condition– or worse. they…

your breath hitched. and not from your injuries.

they thought you were dead. that would make sense, in the chaos of everything, and amidst your panic, you didn’t really do a good job keeping up with answering your comms. still though, you were definitely going to rip them all a new one when you got back; or maybe it would be the other way around.

either way, you couldn’t sit here and dwell on it all night. you needed to make it to the safehouse before they flew back to base. if you missed them this time, you really were well and truly fucked.

✹✹✹

"i've gotta be at least half-way by now," you lament, flopping down against another tree with a grunt in an attempt to calm the burning in your legs and chest. the morphine had worn off about a few hours ago, and you were finally feeling all the bleeding wounds you'd ignored before. nothing lethal, you hoped, aside from your shoulder, ribs, and splitting headache, it was mostly just a lot of glass in your skin.

when you left the town, it must have been just past midnight, and at this pace it would be well after morning before you made it back. you could just about see the first signs of dawn poking through the cloud layer.

the snow had gotten heavier, casting a haze over the horizon, but it hadn't escalated into a storm yet. even under all your gear, the cold was starting to bite at your limbs. your lack of gloves was a decision you were coming to regret; if you lost any fingers because of this you really were going to kill price.

"fuck, he thinks i'm dead…" you groan as you stare up at the sky. snowflakes catch in your eyelashes and threaten to freeze the tears as they well up in your eyes. was he as distraught as you currently were, you wonder? was he even moved at all, or were you just another soldier, just more paperwork he had to fill out?

being in love with your captain was so, so difficult. a mistake, most would say, and you used to tell yourself the same thing. but after knowing him, seeing the vulnerable parts of him he keeps closely guarded, you can't bring yourself to care. seeing his expression when you gifted him the cigars you bought for him, learning his favourite drink when you all went out after missions, trading stories over paperwork in his office late at night. even after everything you've been through together, you know, in your heart, he doesn't feel the same; he's your superior, you're his sergeant, and he is nothing if not an honest man. it can never work between you two. but despite it all, the only regret you have as you sit bleeding in the snow, is that you never told him how you felt.

please, don't leave me here…

in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn't go home without at least id-ing your body, but you were so shaken by the ongoing near death experience that your train of thought wasn't making much sense anymore.

the distant whirr of a helicopter snapped you back to reality. maybe it was… no, the 141 didn't have a helicopter here, which could only mean it was a hostile one. fucking fantastic. where you were slumped was right at the edge of the road, with very little cover from above. you needed to move further off the path, under the protection of the forest canopy.

with a laboured grunt, you pulled yourself back onto your feet, using the tree behind you as a crutch until you could catch your breath again. the helicopter was getting nearer now, close enough that you could almost make out the spotlight through the falling snow.

a brief jog was all you could manage to get away from the road. the snow wasn't deep enough to leave tracks that would be noticeable from the air, not through the shade of darkness. you still as the helicopter passes overhead. there's no change in its course, and you huff a breath of relief. at least you wouldn't have to try and outrun a chopper.

you watch the helicopter's silhouette fade into the night sky. there was nothing to do but carry on. you needed to get to the safehouse.

this was going to be a long night.

✹✹✹

hours, it had been hours since you first set off, so long in fact that it was essentially daytime. the sun hadn't fully risen, casting the world in a dim light that was just dark enough to keep you tripping over roots and holes in the ground.

the snow had let up a while ago, but the overcast clouds had stayed, the perfect match to your steadily declining mood. you thought you felt like shit earlier? if only you could have predicted how much worse it would get. you were acclimated to the pain by now, it reduced to a constant throbbing where your bones were broken. perhaps the icy temperature around you was numbing your injuries; it was either that or the shock.

ahead, you recognised a set of worn tire-tracks making a hard turn through a gap in the forest. there was no way of knowing it was the right way, but a spark of optimism ignites in your chest. maybe you were finally getting close. you just had to pray that your sense of direction was good enough to be leading you in the right direction.

you were right on top of the tracks now, and upon closer inspection, the pattern of the treads might just match the ones on the suv; you've had to fix that damn car so many times you'd know it in your sleep. they were messy, the snow making it hard to pick out, but you needed the hope right now.

this had to be them.

you go to continue down the clear path, to follow where your team had gone, but your luck just doesn't improve.

the mud slides under your foot, catching your ankle and toppling you in your attempt to struggle through. the breath is forced from your lungs as you impact the ground. you cry out through gritted teeth, feeling the strain of your muscles twisting far further than they're supposed to.

pain strikes through your ankle like lightning. drawing a breath is almost impossible from the pressure of your ribs. as you fight to sit up, the mud fights to drag you back down like quicksand.

fuck. another injury to slow you down.

muddy snow covers you from head to toe, the stabbing pain in your shoulder coming back in full force.

was that a car? the low rumbling from the direction you came from drew your attention, and you faintly see beams of headlights through the darkness. you momentarily forgot about your injuries, a frenzied panic making your blood run cold. another patrol. i need to go.

then, as you struggle to get up and out of sight, you feel a concerning pop from your kneecap, and you don't even have to look to know it's dislocated.

but there was no time to check the damage, you had to hide, now, or the truck would reach you and you'd have a lot more problems on your hands. you scramble onto your hands and knees, and yank your ankle free of the wet mud, practically throwing yourself behind the undergrowth just in time for the truck to round the bend.

your ribs are displaced again, injecting fresh pain into the shuddering breath you took, on top of your newly twisted ankle and dislocated kneecap bent uncomfortably beneath you.

it's a miracle you were able to keep quiet as the vehicle passed by.

by some stroke of luck, or just divine stupidity, your enemies drive straight past the space in the trees and your hiding spot. the headlights cast ominous shadows as they cruise by, but they didn't see you.

struggling to your feet once again, this time you give the muddy path a wide berth as you make your way deeper into the forest.

✹✹✹

one foot in front of the other. dragging your injured leg behind you. cradling your broken ribs.

just keep going.

limping through the mud took every resource your body had left, the effort of keeping upright was almost more than you could take.

how much longer could you possibly go, before you can't get back up again?

you couldn't lose hope.

ahead of you, a break in the sea of trees.

just one foot in front of the other. that's all you need. it's all you can do.

closer, stepping out into the open, squinting against the sun.

against the pale light of the morning sky, you see a dark shape. a building? you couldn't tell, you could only pray it was the warehouse you'd been longing for.

one foot in front of the other.

closer still, despite the bone-deep exhaustion in every limb. you could make it out now, the rusted metal siding and fresh tire-tracks in the mud. you were right there.

you taste the salt before you realise you're crying.

almost,

somewhere between the agony, you hear yourself think,

still too early to celebrate.

your heart stutters. they were here, they had to be.

they had to be.

one foot in front of the other.

closer again, you focus on the keypad beside the door. your ankle twists uncomfortably as it drags along the gravel.

the handle became your crutch as you mustered the energy to lift your arm to enter the code.

seeing double, vision swaying as the edges fade.

a distant beep. a red light turning to green.

the handle turns under your weight, and the door swings open.

you find the floor coming up fast.

voices are all around you.

you give in to unconsciousness.

✹✹✹

the distinct hospital smell is what rouses you from your deep, dreamless sleep. hands prod at your busted ribs, drawing a scratchy groan from your dry throat. you grab the wrist of whoever is there as you fight to open your eyes.

"sergeant vantage?" they call out to you, and you realise with a disappointed sigh that it's the medic and not your captain. you open your eyes fully and see her standing above you with a clipboard in one hand. apart from her, you're alone in the medical wing. she notices you looking around, and looks down at the clipboard as she continues, "glad to see you finally awake. your teammate gaz got off pretty lucky, the bullet went clean through his leg. you on the other hand, i'm impressed you made it back at all."

your ankle is in a boot and elevated on some pillows, and you can feel your knee is tightly bandaged under the blankets. an ache starts to form in your shoulder at the effort of holding your arm up.

"vantage, i need you to let go of my wrist." she says, and after an awkward pause you free her from your hold.

"sorry doc…" you mumble, bringing both hands up to your face and observing the tiny cuts littering your skin. you let them flop down to your sides again, but the aching doesn't subside.

"how are you feeling?" she breaks the momentary quiet, setting her clipboard down on the table next to your bed, "want me to get you anything?"

"i'd kill for some water…" you wheeze, the dehydration was catching up to you.

"alright, i'll be right back," the doctor affirms, making her way to the door. she turns back to look you in the eyes with a stern expression before she leaves, "please don't go anywhere."

and with that, the door clicks shut and you're left truly alone with your thoughts again.

your bones creak as you push yourself to sit up, your movements sluggish still with exhaustion, and you're reminded of just how badly you were hurt. everything aches, and it feels as though you'd been asleep for years.

gaz was okay, that's a relief. a little insulting that he got shot and was still in better condition than you, but whatever.

you look around the room for something, anything, to take your mind off the pain, and your eyes eventually land on the table beside you. a few cards sat on top, all with some variation of get well soon on the front, along with a small vase of flowers. you pick up the card closest to you and open it to read the scratchy handwriting inside.

'i swear you could survive a nuke, you're like a cockroach! get better soon, lots of love, soap! xxxxx'

what a charmer soap was. you chuckle at his lighthearted message, he always did try to keep your spirits up in times like these. as you place the card back where it was, your gaze is drawn to the empty chair next to your bed. there was a thin blanket folded over the back, probably left by whoever was last sitting there.

your mind begins to wander; how long were you out? your teammates clearly visited, does that mean price did too? you feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him worrying for you, watching over you as you recover. and if he fell asleep at your bedside? the heart monitor might call the doctor back if this train of thought continues. but then again, you doubted he'd be that forward, he would most likely be buried in paperwork like he usually is after a mission. and the mission you just came back from would require more paperwork than most.

because they… left you behind. that's right. you had to walk yourself back to the safehouse on all your injuries. who knows how long you were walking for but it must have been at least ten hours, considering the sun had risen by the time you got there. the butterflies were swiftly melted by the hot anger rising within you.

you were going to give him a piece of your mind, just like you promised.

all thoughts of the pain you were feeling are out of your head as you fling the blanket off your lower body. you grip your injured leg and lift it over the edge of the bed, swinging your other leg to plant both feet on the floor.

just as you were about to pull yourself up to stand, the door opens again and the medic walks in with your water bottle in her hand. she stops, an icy look in her eyes as she observes what you're doing.

you look back at her, debating whether you should give it up and lay back down, but your anger quickly wins over. the heart monitor picks up again as you work yourself up.

"i swear to god, if you don't sit back down right now," she makes her way over, setting the water down on the table you were using as a crutch. you meet her eyes indignantly, and go to step around her anyway. "no! you need to rest!" the doc puts her hands on your shoulders, and she stops your movement embarrassingly easily.

"fuck that," you croak, your voice still hoarse, "where's captain shithead? i need a word."

she maneuvers you back into sitting on the edge of the bed, and hands you the water. you keep your sour expression, but still drink half the bottle in one go.

"i assume you mean captain price? he's in his office, hasn't come out since you all got back." she takes the bottle from you when you're done, setting it down again, before moving to take the iv out of your arm. if she feels your glare, she doesn't acknowledge it. "whatever it is, it can wait."

"yeah right, i got a few strong words for him, and he is gonna hear 'em."

the doc hesitates as she works.

"i don't know exactly what happened out there, but i think you should know… that he hasn't visited you," she speaks softly, watching your angry expression fall. "your other teammates did, i even saw ghost sneaking out of here one night, but you didn't hear that from me."

silence overcame the small room again as her words sunk in. he left you for dead, and now he was avoiding you? even ghost visited you, and you'd barely had a single conversation with him. your heart feels tight again, the same way it did when you were trapped in that building.

"how long was i out?" your voice is low, almost a whisper.

"two days."

you should have listened to all the people who told you loving him was a bad idea. you'd almost died, and he still didn't visit you? that stung. god, you haven't even been awake an hour and you already want to throw up.

i guess i really don't mean that much to him, huh?

you think back to the night before the mission, when you'd sat with john while he did paperwork. at first, he tried to convince you to get some sleep,

"you wanna be well rested, love."

but you stayed anyway, saying that you'd just sleep on the flight. you would rather spend your nights of insomnia with him anyway.

the two of you had talked for hours that night, about anything that came to mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you finally retreated back to your own quarters. he'd insisted on seeing you back, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night and your room was in the next building over. the way he'd lingered by your door as you said goodnight, you really thought he was going to kiss you then. but he didn't, and you went to sleep with a heavy feeling of disappointment that persevered into the next day.

"i'm sorry vantage." the medic sets something down on the end of the bed, and you turn to look. a pile of your clothes. "i know how you soldiers are, you're gonna get up as soon as i leave no matter what i say, so i'd rather you not walk around in a hospital gown."

she was right.

"...thanks, doc."

despite the overwhelming pain in your heart, you were still about to rip into price.

✹✹✹

you limp out of the infirmary after dressing yourself as quickly as your injuries would allow, which is to say, not very fast. thankfully there weren't any stairs between here and your captain's office, you definitely wouldn't be able to make it up them with your crutch.

the sun was already setting, a pink hue filling the sky as you pushed open the doors of the medical wing. you tried to think as little as possible as you made your way steadily across the courtyard. it would only upset you, and you desperately wanted to be pissed at him. you wouldn't– couldn't– let price see how hurt you were, he probably didn't care anyway. he was just your captain, after all, realistically there was no reason for you to be this upset.

but you were, and the few people you encountered in the corridors could see it written on your face, staying well out of your way as you shuffled past them.

as you stared at the closed door of john's office, your anger wavered. despite the ache in your heart, you considered for a moment that perhaps you were being dramatic. he was your captain, you were just one of his soldiers. it made perfect sense that he'd prioritise the lives of three others over yours alone.

it was his job, and he did it well.

you love john, of course you do, and that's why you're so affected by that fact. maybe you were letting your selfishness get the better of you. honestly, you didn't have a real reason to believe he felt the same way about you. everyone on task force 141 was close, that's the way things are, you couldn't confidently say he treated you differently.

but he was smart. he had to know how you felt, had at least had to know that you don't go out of your way for your other teammates as much as you do for him.

then again, even ghost had visited you while you were out, and you considered yourself much closer to price than him. so maybe he hated you now, he'd finally gotten tired of your poor decision making skills. it was the reason you were in this situation to begin with.

you were just about to abandon the idea of laying into him when price's voice sounded through the door.

"whoever's standin' out there, hurry up and come in, or piss off." he sounded exhausted, his tone blunt with annoyance. it wasn't unusual for him to get like that, especially whilst buried in mind-numbingly boring paperwork, but you could feel something else under the surface of his sharp tone.

well, there goes your last chance to run. you took a moment to steel yourself, to remember that you were in fact angry at him, and open the door with the harshest look you can muster.

he didn't look up as you let the door close behind you, keeping his nose buried in whatever report he was currently scribbling on. his hat was discarded on the desk next to him, and the hand in his hair was keeping it the messiest you'd ever seen it. you breathe in deeply through your nose.

"oh you'd love to get rid of me that easily, wouldn't you?" you spit, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

john's head snaps forward at the sound of your voice, the hand in his hair dropping to his desk, allowing you to finally get a good look at him. his eyes were wide and tired, you could tell the bags under them were darker than the last time you'd looked him in the face.

"vantage…" he spoke with something almost like disbelief, like he couldn't fathom that you were really in front of him. the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes meet yours, and then even further when his gaze falls to your crutch and boot.

fuck, how were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? you channel every ounce of bottled up frustration you have before his blue eyes consume you.

"well unfortunately, i am still alive. not that you give a shit; you got a restraining order on the infirmary or something?"

he murmurs your name– your real name, and as he rises to stand, his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

fuuuuuck.

"what? you leave me for dead, now the cats got your tongue?" you hiss at him, but you can feel the venom leaving your words with every second. the way his expression falls ever so slightly has you regretting what you were saying. you came in here needing to hurt him the way he hurt you, but you were quickly losing your nerve.

"don't do that…" he was almost pleading, as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of you, his piles of paperwork long forgotten. he goes to grasp your elbow, but you pull back before he can touch you.

"sorry if you've already filled out my death certificate, i'd hate to cause you any more headaches." there was little fight left in your voice now, as you stared each other down in the middle of his office.

in the pause, john screws his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, before fixing you with a hard stare.

"don't. you know i would never've left you if i had any other choice!" it's not anger when he raises his voice, it's desperation; trying to convince himself as well as you. he takes another step towards you, toe to toe now as you lock eyes.

"do i know that? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you couldn't get far enough away from me," you can't help the way your voice cracks, nor can you disguise the hurt when you continue, "even fucking ghost visited me, but not you…"

another beat of silence.

"i couldn't…" john mumbled, eyes showing his mind was somewhere else. your chest tightened; every trace of anger was gone, replaced with the heartache you'd gotten so familiar with when it came to him.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i really thought you cared." you try to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but he grabs your upper arm– successfully this time– to stop you going anywhere. it takes an impressive amount of restraint not to melt at his touch.

"of course i fuckin' care!" he growls, tugging you marginally closer.

your eyes hardened again; of course he did, just not in the way you wanted him to.

you jab your finger into his chest as you speak, your expression sour. "well you could've fooled–"

he grabs your hand as he cuts you off, and you can see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his face turning sharp again.

"bloody hell, just shut up! it killed me to leave without you, y'know that? if it weren't for simon i would've sent 'em back without me! i waited, as long as i could," he wasn't shouting, but you went quiet as if he was, any retaliation you thought of dying on your tongue. john let out a heavy sigh before he continued, "but you didn't come. you were stuck in that building, and then when it went up in fuckin' smoke, what was i supposed to think? i– we called out to you so many times, but you never responded."

the silence between you was heavy. deep down, you had already assumed everything he was telling you, but to actually hear it from his mouth had you choking up in his grasp.

"i…" you tried to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. despite your best efforts, the tears welling up in your eyes were close to spilling over as your gaze fell to the floor.

john sighed again, softer this time, and using the hand on your arm he brought you into his chest, letting go of your hand with his other and wrapping it securely around your back.

you rest your cheek against his chest, bringing your own arms up around his torso, and revelled in the feeling of his embrace. listening to his elevated heartbeat, you wondered if he could feel just how hard yours was beating too.

"when you came crashin' through that door the next mornin', alive, i swear i've never been so relieved. but then you wouldn't wake up, and you were covered in so much blood… i…" his voice breaks, actually breaks, and you try to lift your head to look at him, but his hand on your arm moves up and presses into the back of your head, holding you tight against him. "...i was fuckin' terrified, love." he whispered.

"... why didn't you visit me?" the question you'd been meaning to ask all along, the real reason you had been upset at him.

you feel him press his lips into the top of your head, gently rocking you both where you stand. the crutch falls from your arm, but neither of you make any move to retrieve it.

"i couldn't. i couldn't face you, layin' in that hospital bed, hooked up to all them machines… knowin' it was my fault…"

"Hey, you know it wasn’t…" you murmur with disapproval; as much as you hate to admit it, you dug yourself into that hole.

"fuck, i'm– so fucking sorry love,"

"don't apologise… please, you did what you had to," you lift your head, and you can look him in the face again. his eyes were slightly red; if your heartstrings were pulled anymore they'd surely break. "plus, i was never really mad at you anyway."

he huffs out a small chuckle, his breath fanning over your face, the crease in his brow melting away as your eyes meet, "well ain't that a relief?"

"i thought you were pissed at me, and that's why you didn't visit…" you clear your throat and avoid his gaze, "i mean, i did lock myself in a building full of hostiles… not my finest moment,"

"no. as stupid as you are sometimes, i could never be angry at you."

"that is a relief."

a quiet overcomes the two of you, standing in eachothers arms as the evening sun casts the room in an orange glow. you wanted to stay like this for the rest of time, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the voice in the back of your head that said this was inappropriate. the way he was talking, holding you, had your hopes high, just like that night before the mission. the one where you went to bed disappointed. it didn't help that you were expecting the let-down now, if anything it only made your heart sink even lower.

you notice that, exactly like you, john was staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. you tilt your head, wordlessly urging him to tell you what's going on. he sighs, scanning the multitude of cuts and scrapes that litter your face, "i promise you, i will never let anything like that happen again, alright?"

"i believe you." you smile softly, and you do; of course you do, you'd trust him with your life. it wasn't something you'd admit out loud, but you would do just about anything if he asked you to.

"i swear, i'm not lettin' you outta my sight." the look on his face has you squirming is his grasp, under the intense gaze he pinned you with.

"alright, i get it," you chuckle, your face heating up at the implication. this was doing nothing for the enormous crush you were harbouring. shuffling backwards slightly, you put enough space between you that you can comfortably rest your hands on his chest.

"i don't think you do, love," you feel his chest rumble as he speaks, and his gaze becomes serious, "i coulda' lost you. i thought i did. fuck, when soap and gaz came outta there without you? i thought my heart'd stopped… i just– i…"

it was rare to see your captain so lost for words. you feel his heart beat faster under your fingertips, the distant look in his eyes giving away the internal debate he was surely having.

"john?"

"if i'm out of order, say the word and we can forget all about this, but vantage…" his voice was low, and you felt your cheeks heat up to a boiling point as he cradled your face with one hand and leaned in closer, chest to chest again. the anticipation and the proximity might just make you sick. "you mean the world to me, i don't know what i'd do with myself if i lost you."

was that… what you thought it was? it sounded an awful lot like a confession, and you really really wanted it to be, but… was it too good to be true?

the lack of a response from you had john pulling back with an uncharacteristic cough that radiated embarrassment. he let go of your face, hovering next to your cheek as if he couldn't bear to let go, and you frown at the absence of his warmth.

"just ignore me, i shouldn't've–" he begins to back-pedel, going to move away from you before you cut him off.

"no!" you exclaim, with a bit more panic than you intended, and grasp his shirt in your fists to keep him close. "i get it, i really do. i- i care about you too, probably a lot more than a teammate should." your face heats up at the admission, and he lights up with surprise. "i think i always have."

slowly, he moves his hand back to its place cupping your jaw, searching your eyes for any signs that he was misinterpreting your response. when he found none, he smiled at you so genuinely you doubted anyone had ever been so sincere towards you.

"yeah?" he murmurs, the slight disbelief gone from his expression but still present in his voice.

"yes, john," you mirror his tone, bringing a hand up to hold the back of his neck. his skin burned hot under your touch.

"well thank god for that," his voice is barely a whisper now, as he draws your lips closer to his. the air separating you felt thick enough to be cut.

you let your eyes fall closed, and with a small burst of confidence, you lean forward and close the final distance between the two of you. he kisses you so tenderly, with so much emotion, it makes your head spin. you sigh into him, tilting your head and pressing yourself impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms at last. all your many months of pining had led up to this moment, and you felt like your heart might just burst. regretfully, you find yourself needing to break away for air, and to your delight he follows your lips as you pull back.

"maybe i should get injured more often, if this is what i get," you breathe, a dazed smile on your face as both your eyes flutter open, and his chest rumbles under your hand with a deep chuckle.

"you better not; i'll have your head if you do, love."

✹✹✹

#john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #price fic #mw2 x reader #price x reader #141 x reader #first fic ive ever posted im scared #dont break my heart pls <3 #roosterr writes

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denpa-dere · 7 months

Text

house arrest 2

afab!mc x levi

description: NSFW, you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower? Levi is fun to pick on.

warnings: breeding kink, afab reader with she/her pronouns, dom!reader, mild degradation and manipulative behavior, all in good fun.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) ||

“Welcome home, Master~!”

Your saccharine taunt was a bucket of ice water dumped over Levi’s head. He shrieked, clamping a hand down over his mouth about half a beat too late.

“W-what are you doing!?” The demon spluttered. He had been gone for less than fifteen minutes and returned to find you draped comfortably over his gaming chair, tapping away at your DDD as if you hadn't just caused him to jump out of his skin.

"Terror World update. Needed to use your computer to check it out. I let myself in," Your response was matter-of-fact.

"No!" Levi yelped, slamming the door behind him, "What are you doing here right now!?"

You don't even look up when you point lazily at the glowing monitor, "I just told you. Terror World. You have the only gaming PC. You left your door open."

Levi's heart hammered in his chest. This was bad. It was bad enough you had successfully launched a sneak attack and captured his base's flag, but you weren't even taking it seriously. A cold sweat coated his palms. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, frozen to the spot.

"Relax, Levi," You sighed, flashing him a sympathetic smile, "I’m on house arrest, not quarantine. One round, maybe two, to see the new content and I'm gone, I promise!"

Levi covered his face and groaned dramatically. You were so cute when you were excited about games, he couldn't take it.

"Fine! Fine!" He conceded, throwing his hands up. He fell into the bean bag chair on the floor next to you, folding in on himself instinctively.

“Besides," You said, leaning over to check the game's progress, "I'm not worried about being around you. You're different from your brothers."

Levi glanced up at you, then away, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were faster.

"Some of them can be such perverts."

A trap sprang shut.

Oh. So that's how it was. He was going to die here.

It was clear (to all except maybe Levi himself) that you had a soft spot for Leviathan. You bantered easily back and forth, knowing exactly what buttons to press to fluster him, how far to push your teasing before pulling back and fluffing up his ego. It was intoxicating, if he was honest. Sometimes he wondered if you knew how many nights he’d spent laying in his tub, staring into space, rolling those moments over in his mind.

By now, you had pivoted subjects, but sounded too far away for him to follow. Bitter envy built up like bile in his throat. Mammon's near-instantaneous caving to his baser instincts had rewarded him in spades, as far as Levi was concerned. You had given yourself over to him freely, though the third-born doubted you would have made the same choice if he were the first to visit you. Scummy as Mammon was, you two shared a special bond.

So, why were you here?

You were resting your forehead on your folded hands, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, smiling fondly. The eye contact made him jump.

“What’s it like?” You asked, pinning him with your gaze. He averted his eyes to a distant corner.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He said airily.

"Like, what's so different about me? Lucifer explained a little, but nothing specific," You turned to face him so there was no escape, "So, what's it like?"

Levi felt like his head was going to explode, "You can't just ask me stuff like that!"

"Why not?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends! It's just-" It was just that every single second you lingered, your presence became more and more overwhelming. That by the teasing lilt to your voice, you had immediately plucked his poorly-hidden excitement out of the air and were now holding him under a microscope.

You rose, then crouched in front of him, skirt creeping up your thighs, and took one of his trembling hands in yours. He hoped against hope it wasn't as clammy as he feared.

"It's embarrassing for me, too," You admitted, gently uncurling his fist. You slid your palm against his, taking a moment to appreciate their size difference.

You threaded your fingers together, "It's kind of scary when everyone knows something you don't."

It was a critical hit. Levi swallowed heavily. His head was swimming.

"You, ah, you smell different. Not bad! Good, actually– s-sorry that's weird. Ugh, it's hard to explain!" He stammered, mouth dry, face on fire. His eyes shot from your joined hands, to you, then back, "... I-it's like you're calling me. I don't know if it's like that for everyone."

You were so close. This was too much. Levi needed to create some distance, get some fresh air, take a cold shower, anything before he said something he'd really regret.

"Thank you for being honest with me," You said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. The computer pinged.

"Ah! It's done!" You cheered. You sprung to your feet and stumbled forward. Levi had not released the grip tethering you together.

He knew he should.

"I was just thinking…" The words seemed to rattle out on their own.

You looked pretty in the blue light.

"You could give me a reward, you know, for my hard work…" By the end of the sentence, he was so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

You sank to your knees with an expression that made him feel like a prey animal.

"Of course," You cooed, taken in by his vulnerability, "What would you like?"

Horrified by his own boldness but enthralled by your reaction to it, Levi felt the spreading heat in his body building to untenable levels. He couldn't look at you, he was going to overflow.

"Um, well, ah-" He squeaked when you rested your hands on his thighs to still his nervous leg-bouncing.

"Should I choose for you?" You offered. He nodded.

You crawled into the demon's lap and hummed thoughtfully, ignoring his clear internal panic. Levi lolled his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He hovered his hands off your body, just over your waist, afraid that one wrong move would send you running.

But you persisted. You poked and prodded at him like a delicate specimen, humming again in thought. You were overwhelming his senses, seeping into him like a drug. Were you doing this on purpose? You had told him before that he was fun to pick on, but this…

"What if," You said, tilting his head towards his left shoulder, "I kissed you here?" You lightly rapped your index finger against his jugular, as if prepping the vein. Moments away from hyperventilating, Levi grunted in affirmation.

"Okay, okay," You laughed, leaning into his chest. The way your body molded so easily against his wasn't fair. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and, for a moment, did nothing but let him squirm under your breath.

"Otsukaresama deshita," You cheekily thanked him for his hard work before placing a few open-mouthed kisses onto his exposed skin.

"Nn-!" His body jerked reflexively. You squeezed your thighs around his to encourage him to stay still, even though you knew it was a losing battle. He craned his neck to give you better access that you rewarded with a light graze of your teeth. Levi whimpered and you paused.

No no no- why were you stopping? Was it because he grabbed you? Was it the noise? Did you feel it? You must have. He waited for your rejection with baited breath..

You gave an experimental roll of your hips that sent him reeling. He could feel you grinning against his neck, dragging your lips slowly up to his ear.

"Pervert."

The word cut through him, but the way you nipped at his earlobe made him dizzy. You kept rocking your hips, rubbing against his clothed cock, slow torture.

"When you found out about Mammon, I could feel it in our pact," You tangled a hand in his hair and gave it a small tug, "You were jealous."

"No," It was humiliating how much his denial came out sounding like a moan. Your movements were relentless, pulling adorable noise after noise out of the powerful demon beneath you.

"Liar. Do you know what I think?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, "I think you left your door open on purpose."

Was he really that obvious?

Precum was beginning to soak through his underwear, warm and sticky. Of course he had been just as affected as any of them. As much as it pained him to admit, he had been a part of the scuffle for your attention. While Asmo had gotten to pull you from the fray and Mammon had tried to take you for himself, Levi was left to lick his wounds alone. Left to his own devices, still feeling your pull, he thought of the red string of fate and whether there may be one connecting the two of you.

It led to you being here, didn't it? Sitting pretty in his lap, pretense fading behind glassy eyes as you got lost in sensation. Your teasing turned into cute, needy whines that made him throb. You needed him. So, it would be okay if he took things further, right?

Levi kissed you gingerly, still unsure of himself despite everything, heart racing. You melted against him, eager to accept any affection he would give you. He moaned into your mouth when you palmed him through his sweatpants. He was so hard it was bordering on painful.

You slipped a finger under his waistband and peered up at him through heavy lashes, suddenly a little sheepish, "Is this okay?"

Why were you so fucking cute? He wiggled his hips to help you free him from the damp fabric of his sweats. Only a thin strip of cloth remained between the two of you under your skirt. It was kind of dirty, he thought, knowing he was smearing pre all over your inner thighs but not being able to see it.

Resting his hands on your hips, Levi arched against you, wanting to hear you cry for him again. You bit your lip and moved with him, pushing against his chest for leverage, using his body to chase your own high as the coil in your core wound tighter. There was a part of him that wanted you to keep him like this– a well-loved toy to be played with at your leisure.

When the coil snapped, you snatched him up by the shirt collar and pulled him into a messy kiss, pleasurable spasms ripping through your body. You whimpered his name against his lips and it was all he could do to not combust. He needed to hear you say it again. You grinded against him until you were spent, then collapsed against his chest, feeling boneless.

Just as suddenly as things had started, they stopped. You disentangled your limbs and stood. Levi reached for you, dumbfounded, grasping at air.

"Here," You reached under your skirt, pulling your soaked panties around your ankles before balling them up and tossing them at him, "Your reward."

He fumbled to catch them, "What are you-?"

"We're even now," You waved, heading towards the door.

"W-wait where-"

"Come find me when you're ready to be serious," You taunted him. You couldn't look back, knowing his wet orange eyes and confused, reddened face would crumble your resolve.

You slipped through the door and were gone. Levi sank back into the bean bag, now left with only the aquarium's hum and computer fans buzzing for company, Terror World long since forgotten. What were you playing at? He wondered, unfolding his satin-y prize. This felt like psychological warfare.

He lifted the garment to his nose and inhaled deeply, soothing his aching cock with a few slow pumps. Knowing he'd be fucking his fist tonight instead of you was infuriating, especially with a gifted reminder of your body in heat.

He wouldn't let you win so easily next time.

#obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #levi x reader #leviathan x reader #x reader

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cultofdixon · 4 months

Text

The sky is falling

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When the shelf collapsed on Bob, it wasn’t just Bob under there…and he didn’t get the worse of it • ANGST/SFW • TW: Concussion / Injuries / Unconsciousness / Illness / Mentions of Nightmares / Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“Alright. We go in, stay in formation for the sweep” Sasha stated the plan in regards to entering the supermarket a few of them spotted on a run a while back. “After that, you all know what you’re supposed to look for. Any questions?”

“Was there ever a time that you weren’t the boss of me?” Tyreese questioned his sister who couldn’t help the smirk on her face.

“You had a few years before I was born” then the group started to flood into the building.

Except Bob lingered for a moment staring at half of a walker. Y/N took note of his lag and waited for him at the doors that when he turned toward her, she gave him a questioning look in matters of if he was okay or not. All he did was nodded before the two caught up with the others.

Everyone explored the place for what they needed, and of course whatever they needed. Daryl kept to himself mainly keeping an eye out for the standard essentials: food, water, meds…the good stuff. He occasionally would stop when he would find Y/N knelt down to the floor examining something which peaked his interest but before he could go question it, Glenn stepped over kneeling beside her.

“What are you doing?” He kept his voice low, in case of walkers. They all were.

“When I worked retail we kept some overstock in bins under or on top of the aisles…I know this place was used as a quarantine base and people were in here. But it’s worth a shot” Y/N reached carefully to feel for any pull and when she felt something, she tugged on it resulting in the overstock she had mentioned. “Jackpot”

“Thank god you agreed to come with us on this run. How long has it been since you’ve left the prison?” Glenn comments while repeating the action to another 4x4 section and flagging Sasha over to do the same on the opposite side of Y/N.

“Since uhm. Andrea.” Y/N gave him a sad smile before standing up and leaving the two to rummage through everything. Glenn watches her step away and gave Sasha a concerned look.

It’s been some time in the store and Y/N went from being with the group to lingering around after she had grabbed what was asked of her. She wasn’t doing what the others were doing after they had grabbed what they needed for the community. There was plenty of interesting finds that some had grabbed but she didn’t think much of anything she saw. Except for this dorky little keychain at one of the cashier displays, it made her smile and he noticed it.

“Y/N, mind giving me a hand with something? Can’t seem to find what I’m looking for” Bob silently called for her as Y/N quickly pulls herself away to help.

Daryl quietly revealing himself from the aisle he was watching her from and approached the cashiers to take a closer look at what she was looking at. It was indeed a dorky looking keychain of a kiwi. But right as he picked it up that’s when the crash happened.

“You alright?” Daryl asked the second he came over to the fallen wine shelves that were crushing whoever was under there.

“Y-Yeah I’m alright. I don’t think Y/N is though” Bob’s voice was hoarse and in a panic as Daryl quickly ran around the other side to find Y/N facing away from him but when she heard the rushed footsteps she slowly turned her head revealing the head lac.

“Hey, hey—-You with me? You gotta stay with me” Daryl states watching her eyes struggle to stay open.

“Y-…Yeah” Y/N groaned out as she tried to push against the shelf but given her state and the instability of it. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Don’t try and move. We’re gonna get yea both out” Daryl states about to get up when he heard her cough out a ‘wait’, making him instantly go back down. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay”

“D-Don’t go” Y/N’s voice cracked when saying such as her anxiety made this situation a whole lot worse but her head was also pounding at an uncomfortable rate that it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she may be concussed.

“Alright. I’m staying.” Daryl reassures as he lifts his head up finding Zack already rushing over and quickly scanned around for another body, said being Tyreese. “Hey! We need a hand” and without a second thought, the man came rushing over helping the other lift the shelf off Bob first.

“What happened?!” Glenn yells over a few aisles when he heard the crash.

“Bob and Y/N are under some shelves!” Zack stated helping secure the shelf stay upright before moving onto the one right next to the middle one, the one Y/N is under.

“I was moving fast, man. I drove right into the drinks” Bob’s voice shook as he spoke while Tyreese gave him a quick hand up.

“You lucked out. If this thing had come down on you the wrong way—-“

“It did on Y/N, now hurry the fuck up and help me get this thing up and off her as well” Daryl interrupted his anger overshadowing his worry.

Right as the three lifted the one next to the one on top of Y/N, the roof collapsed in resulting in the others flocking over to the sound.

“Yeah, uh, we should probably go now” Glenn urges hearing the archer growl in annoyance.

“Y/N’s still stuck in there. Gotta get her outta there” Daryl snaps approaching one side of the shelf as Zack, Tyreese, and Bob joined him to get it lifted.

“I’ve got you covered until she’s out” Michonne states unsheathing her katana and slicing through the occasional walker as they seem to continue to fall from the sky.

The walkers were getting too much and they had to slowly start abandoning the idea of getting Y/N out and take care of the undead coming to give them more of a window.

“damn…sky is falling…” Y/N choked out as she took note of the crawling walker coming close to her while the commotion only continued around the scene. I’m going to die kept repeating in her already aching mind.

“We have to get her out now if we all are gonna make it” Zack states picking up the shelf making Y/N shift slightly but when she tried to sit up she immediately went down.

The archer quickly grabbed the crawling walker by the ankles pulling it back before crushing its skull with his foot. He quickly then ran over to Y/N carefully picking her up bridal style while Zack kept the shelf up.

What happened next…wasn’t..pretty.

A couple hours passed and the group returned to the prison, missing one of their people due to the usual unfortunate turns of events. The news had to be broken and Daryl took it upon himself to go deliver such while the others settled back in.

Beth was writing away in her journal when she heard footsteps to find Daryl by her cell door.

“Hey”

“Hi”

“What is it?” Beth asks with a hint of curiosity but given Daryl’s composure, her shoulders fell slightly.

“Zack” Daryl clears his throat keeping his gaze to the floor.

The young Greene kept silent for a moment before asking if he was dead, only for silence to be her straight answer. Beth quietly got up from her bunk approaching the sign she has that would hang up in some companies this workplace has had ___ days without an accident and removed the three in front of the zero. Making a whole month accident free back to zero. She knew he was still standing there and gave him a confused look.

“What?” Beth quietly approaches the cell door relaxing a bit. “I don’t cry anymore, Daryl. I’m just…glad I got to know him, you know?”

“Me too…” Daryl frowns bringing his gaze back onto the floor watching her feet come into view and a small nudge from her to get him to look back at her.

“Are you okay?” Beth questions, not receiving an immediate answer and decided to ask about what she does know. “Does it have to do…with Y/N? My daddy and the new doctor checked her out. A few stitches and a bad concussion”

“Yeah. Uh. I ain’t talkin’ about it” and on that note, Daryl stepped away knowing damn well he would’ve screamed if he heard the slightest reassuring thing.

He was taking it as his fault when it wasn’t.

The night only continued to stress Daryl out as he avoided her cell even if every fiber of his being fought against him. He took that night watch to be outside of the prison and let the cool night air try to flood the thoughts out. But it was ultimately failing.

________

Y/N latched onto Daryl making it difficult for him to try and get her in the backseat of one of the cars. He decided to just climb in with her and hold her the entire ride while Michonne took his bike back to the prison.

When the group initially returned, Rick knew of their return by the sounds of honking which they weren’t supposed to do because the wall was already weakening and the sound will only attract more to push it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rick asks Glenn who was driving as he quickly parks.

“Sorry we need Hershel, or Caleb. Whoever is available” Glenn didn’t even let Rick continue to scowled him as the retired sheriff nodded before running inside to get either of them while Sasha helped Daryl carefully get Y/N who about half way home started to complain about the dizziness that when she got out of the car she didn’t mean to shove Daryl off but she wasn’t about to vomit on him.

Y/N hunched over by the side of the car throwing up once more as she didn’t feel any better. Daryl stuck by her side holding her hair back as Tyreese tossed over his canteen to his sister who knelt down while opening it to try and get Y/N to take a sip. But the world was spinning for her that she tried to reach for it before failing and collapsing against the archer.

“GET FUCKING HERSHEL OR SOMEBODY ALREADY” Daryl snaps not caring for any kid within earshot of his cursing as he picked her up once more deciding to shorten the distance to wherever the docs are.

Soon Daryl found himself hovering outside Y/N’s cell while Caleb got the stitches done for her small head lac while Hershel kept asking questions that one would ask someone who’s concussed.

Do you know where you are

What’s your name

How old are you

Granted the man couldn’t ask what day it was or stuff like that because it is the apocolypse and time became irrelevant but she still answered the ones he asked.

“She’s going to be fine. But we’ll do hourly neuro checks.” Caleb states finishing the stitches and applying the bandage.

“I’ll stay with her to keep her up a little while longer just so we know she won’t hurt herself further with the concussion.” Hershel adds while Caleb cleans up.

Y/N was about to tell something to Daryl but when she looked at the door, he had walked away.

________

She was being taken care of. That wouldn’t have stopped him from also hovering but he was afraid of her slipping and losing her in the process.

Daryl was about to light his cigarette when he heard small tapping on the glass of the watchtower. He looks over and can barely see the small pebbles hitting the glass as if someone was trying to get his attention.

When he stepped out to investigate by shining his flashlight to whoever it may be. His anxiety rose when he saw Y/N standing at the surface hugging a blanket.

Y/N waited patiently for him to come down and she was prepared for his line of questioning.

“Why are you doing out here?”

“Rick came to check on me about an hour ago…told me where you were when I asked about you. Thought you could use a blanket”

“There’s…” Daryl knew she would do this, she’s done this before whenever he had watch. Come bring him things he didn’t exactly need but he appreciated it every time. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I…it’s..stupid” Y/N frowns averting her gaze while hugging the blanket close as Daryl stepped forward bringing him close to her.

“You can trust me”

“I can’t stop thinking about it…almost dying.” Her voice was low as she gently touched the bandage keeping her eyes still averted. “I…Uh…when the realization hit under the shelf and the roof was caving in…I just thought I was going to die and wouldn’t be able to say anything”

“…wouldn’t be able to say anything?”

“Wouldn’t be able to tell y—-“

“Y/N?” Maggie’s voice caught them both off guard as she approaches the two realizing she walked into something but saw past it for what she’s out there for. “My daddy is looking for you. To put a new bandage on”

“I could’ve done it my—-“

“Nah, go get checked by the doc” Daryl interrupts this time as he carefully took the blanket from her grasp. “I appreciate this…and we’ll talk later”

Y/N gave him a soft smile and a nod before leaving to go do such, leaving Maggie alone with Daryl a moment as she waited for their friend to enter the prison for her to speak up.

“I know how scary today was for yea. Next time, just tell her” Maggie gave him a small smile before going back to bed.

Then it seemed to only go down hill for everyone since that day. When the outbreak happened, Daryl instantly ran to where Y/N stood over one of the turned she had taken out and brought her into his embrace carefully. She quickly latched on holding onto him for a moment, or at least until they had to move the bodies and hold a council meeting.

Next to happen was turning Cellblock A into a Quarantine Zone, getting a group together to go out and get drugs, and take care of the fence. So much was happening…

That when the group were leaving the veterinary college after grabbing what they can. Bob dropped his bag into a sea of walkers as he gripped onto the strap to dear life tugging it back ignoring the others telling him to let it go. He swiped it hard enough to bring it back on the awning they stood on, the bottles clanging caught everyone’s attention especially Daryl’s.

Daryl knelt down picking up a bottle of booze slowly standing and giving Bob a glare. “You got no meds in your bag?” He shakes the bottle watching Bob try and look away. “Just this?”

Bob’s silence only started to brew the anger inside of him.

“You should have kept walking that day.” Daryl scoffs about to chuck the bottle, hearing Bob say ‘don’t’ while holding his hand over his gun.

The archer quickly got up in the man’s face keeping his ground as Tyreese and Michonne watched it unfold. The second he grabbed Bob’s vest, Tyreese spoke up.

“Just let it go, Daryl. The man’s made his choice. Nothing you can do about it” Tyreese states as Daryl releases Bob from his grasp. “Just gotta let it go”

“I didn’t want to hurt nobody…” Bob states keeping his gaze to his feet. “It was just for when it gets quiet. Would’ve never grabbed it now if she wasn’t in the aisle that day.”

That’s when he snapped and instead of chucking the bottle in that moment, his fist met Bob’s face making him drop harshly onto the fragile awning they stood on getting him dangerously close to the herd of walkers. Daryl knelt down to his level and before Tyreese could intervene, Michonne stopped him giving her friend the benefit of the doubt.

“You almost got the woman I love killed that day.” Daryl hissed out making Bob flinch as he drops the bottle by his face. “Take one sip. When those meds get in our people, I will beat your ass into the ground. You hear me?”

And with that Daryl left ahead of the others, no more words were exchanged.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

Text

sorry

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: is your savior really here to save you? can what is broken be mended?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death, blood & violence

word count: the full number of words on this one is 4,444 and I just thought that was really fucking cool

a/n: I wanna thank y'all for being patient with this slow burn. i'm excited to say things are really about to start heating up moving forward. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“Sweetheart.”

All the raging chaos that had been wreaking havoc on every single one of your nerve endings had suddenly stopped, like the clouds had abruptly parted, sending the perilous hurricane right back into the sea right before it could reach you. As if Death had decided not to knock, but wave a white flag of surrender instead to the only mortal being it seemed to fear.

To him.

The door knob creaked slightly when it was twisted from the other side, the lock still in place providing a barrier between you and the carnage on the other side of it. A deep sigh was muffled through the wood, and your ringing ears barely caught the low volume of that familiar gruff voice.

“S’just me. Open the door for me, sweetheart.”

Frank.

Ephemeral relief shot through your bloodstream, and the shard of glass lodged into your palm was immediately released, shattering into a thousand shiny pieces in the pool of merlot that was still flowing from your hand. Salty tears blazed down your cheeks and slipped past your trembling lips when you whispered his name.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, m’here. Open up, honey. C’mon.”

The relief that the safety of Frank’s presence brought was fleeting and very quickly overshadowed by uncontrollable rage remembering how you had wound up in this situation in the first place.

If he hadn’t left, none of this would’ve happened.

Bloodied fingers slipped over the lock and you swiftly flung the door open like a mad woman to reveal his large figure. The second that Frank tried to take a step in your direction, you shoved at his chest with the surge of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“You son of a bitch!”

Frank stumbled backwards in surprise, eyes widening slightly in shock at your unexpected outburst. When his lips parted to speak, you shoved even harder at his chest, letting your fists rain down in a frenzy against his chest like furious daggers.

“You left me! How the fuck could you leave me like that?!”

He didn’t even put up a defense as you pounded away at his chest and screamed at him, allowing you to force him backwards with every devastating blow you threw in his direction. There was a light furrow of remorse creasing between his dark brows, and if you hadn’t been so blinded by your own anger, you might have caught the guilt-ridden expression that tugged his features down.

“You fucking selfish asshole! I hate you!”

The sharp sting of your wounded palm striking against Frank’s cheek in a harsh slap didn’t even register in your brain. You couldn’t feel any sting but the one of betrayal, and the searing wrath that threatened to consume you entirely. He didn’t even flinch when you slapped him across the face. He just took it.

He let you take it all out on him; the fear, the anger, the disappointment, the hurt, the treachery, all of it.

Frank accepted every single verbal and physical lash you struck him with until you ran out of steam. As soon as the ferocity started to disintegrate into the lingering and overwhelming emotions of terror and panic, the red mist of outrage started to clear from your vision, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Walker’s dead body surrounded by a puddle of deep crimson near the foot of your bed. A choked sob caught in your throat and you covered your mouth in horror as the reality and severity of the situation started to soak in. Frank instantly tried to pull your body into his arms, and when you weakly fought against him, he moved to block your view of Walker’s lifeless body to shield you from the bloodshed. His large hands grabbed onto your arms and held them down to prevent you from moving, dipping his head to catch your gaze.

“Hey…hey, listen to me. I need you to listen real carefully. We gotta go, alright? We gotta go now. It ain’t safe here, and we ain’t got much time. We gotta go right now, alright?”

Frank didn’t give you a moment to hesitate before ushering you out of your bedroom quickly, tucking your face into his chest to prevent you from seeing the evidence of his slaughter. Your mind was a whirlwind of disarray and confusion, emotions and thoughts coming down like a tumultuous hailstorm that you couldn’t take shelter from.

He adjusted the sling on his rifle to keep one hand on it and one protectively over your head while leading you out the front door. When the sharp chill of the night time breeze swept across the glaring cut in your palm, it seemed to snap you of your clamorous haze, and you gripped onto Frank’s bicep tightly with your good hand to pause his guidance.

“Wait! My phone-”

“Leave it.”

“No, I can’t. I got them confessing on tape. I need-”

When you went to turn around, Frank clamped down onto your shoulders a little forcefully to stop you. The firm force behind his hands and the surprise from his actions stopped you right in your tracks. There was a stern look of inflexibility in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“Frank-”

“I’ll get it. Where is it?”

The clipped tone of his voice was one you were all too familiar with. It was the one he used when he wasn’t in the mood for an argument, or when something wasn’t up for debate.

“Behind the coffee machine.”

Frank gave a curt nod and handed you the keys to his truck, gently pushing you towards that direction with his palm flat against your lower back.

“Get it started. There’s a first aid kit in the back. Wrap that hand to stop the bleedin’, I’ll take care of it later.”

As Frank disappeared back into your home, you sprinted towards his truck, keeping your head on a swivel for anyone suspicious or anything out of place. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, you could feel the pain starting to lick at the torn wounds in your hand and across your fingers. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes, both from the throbbing affliction in your palm, and from how incredibly overwhelmed you were. A sharp hiss left your lips when you started to wrap your hand in gauze, the agony only growing louder in volume the tighter you wrapped it. You didn’t know much about first aid, but you knew enough to know to keep pressure tight on an active bleed.

The sound of the truck door abruptly opening had you jumping in your seat, and Frank shot you a look of concern at your reaction. Quickly looking away to focus on your hand, your vision started to become blurry again with warm tears, and you bit down on your bottom lip harshly to will them away. Frank set your phone down in the middle console, eyeing you warily.

“Lemme see.”

“It’s fine.”

Frank pursed his lips at your snappy response, reaching his hand over towards the first aid kit in your lap.

“Here-”

“I got it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I said I got it.”

Frank let out a deep exhale of frustration when you raised your voice at him in another terse quip, dragging his palm down his face in agitation before putting his truck in drive and peeling off down the street. The pain in your hand was almost unbearable by the time you finished wrapping it up, and there was already a maroon bloodstain forming in the center of the crisp white material. A few stray tears slipped past your waterline when you closed your eyes, and you swiftly wiped them away, turning your head to look out the window so that you didn’t have to look at Frank.

Letting out a shaky breath, you attempted to try and control the cyclone of emotions devastating you from the inside out. There were two dead men in your home right now, and it suddenly dawned on you that Frank had killed them. A shuddering breath left your lips when you finally had a moment to process that epiphany, and you swallowed the sob that threatened to escape your throat.

“We have to call the police.”

“No.”

Snapping your head in Frank’s direction, your eyes widened in bewilderment as you stared over at him in complete disbelief and confusion.

“Yes. Frank you just…killed two police officers. They’re dead, in my home, and you weren’t exactly quiet about it. We can’t just-”

“They were gonna hurt you.”

Frank’s jaw was set harshly, making the outline of it appear even sharper. He kept his hardened gaze ahead on the dark road. The cold and detached tone of his voice stunned you silent for a moment. There wasn’t a visible shred of guilt on his face or in his voice about what he had done, and you didn’t know whether to be horrified by that or not.

When Frank’s eyes flickered over at you, the palpable anger on his face softened into something that resembled regret, as if he could see on your face how you felt about him in that moment. He urgently looked away, unwilling to see that reflection of himself in your eyes. Loosening his grip on the steering wheel, he let out a deep exhale through his nose.

“They were real cops, ran their badge numbers. We can’t call it in cause we don’t know if they got anyone else in their precinct workin’ with ‘em. I got a friend in Homeland, I’ll call her. She can handle cleanin’ up the mess and start lookin’ into ‘em, maybe find a lead.”

A layer of perplexity nestled on top of your trepidation at Frank’s words. All of a sudden, a thought emerged from the back of your mind about the whole situation, and you stared at him curiously.

“How did you get their badge numbers that quickly? And how did you know they were even there?”

Frank glanced over at you, his own face twisted in puzzlement as if you had just asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Put cameras ‘round your place when I got assigned to ya. I get alerts whenever there’s motion ‘round ‘em. Saw ‘em comin’ up on the camera and ran their badges, but then I heard ‘em say somethin’ ‘bout ‘needin’ to do it quietly’ and figured that meant trouble.”

After a minute of silence, he let out another deep exhale and ran his hand through his unruly dark hair in clear frustration, shaking his head slowly while he looked back at the road.

“You never shoulda opened that door.”

You clenched your hands into fists at his accusatory tone, glaring at the side of his face while your panic swiftly subsided into defensiveness.

“They were cops, Frank.”

“Didn’t mean ya had to open the door. Cops ain’t always the good guys, you know that. You shoulda known better than to open the door for anyone-”

“You shouldn’t have fucking left me.”

Frank immediately went silent and tensed up. You watched as a muscle feathered along his strong jaw. Scoffing dryly at his reaction, you slowly shook your head in annoyance while glancing out the window, brows knitting together in agitation while you tried to figure out where you were.

“Where are we going?”

“My place. We needa lay low for a bit.”

The anger poisoning your bloodstream left no room for the excitement you would’ve felt under normal circumstances about getting to see Frank’s home. It was something you had admittedly fantasized about after several glasses of wine, imagining scenarios in which Frank would take you back to his place, and you would get to experience the real him in more ways than one. But at the moment, you weren’t sure you even wanted to be around him at all.

»»———　　———««

You don’t know what you were expecting Frank’s place to look like, but it was certainly far more empty than you anticipated. The walls were completely bare, void of anything personal, and that seemed to be the running theme. The furniture was scarce, a modest couch and simple coffee table accompanied by a minuscule wooden stand with a small tv. Apart from Frank’s black denim jacket draped over the back of the couch, his rifle on the island, and a backpack in the corner of the room, it didn’t even look like anyone lived here.

Frank had silently gestured for you to take a seat on one of the plain metal stools at the kitchen island. You hissed when he disinfected the cut above your brow, carefully placing a thin white bandage over the tiny cut, and you prepared yourself for what was next.

The alcohol swab burned, even with Frank lightly dragging it over the cut in your hand and across your fingers as quickly as humanly possible, and you swore it would’ve hurt less holding it over an open flame. He might as well have been performing open heart surgery on your palm with the way he was meticulously pulling tiny glass fragments from the cut with tweezers.

You watched intently while Frank carefully and expertly stitched up your palm. He didn’t have anything to give you for the pain other than a bold shot of whiskey, and you winced with a noise of discomfort every time the needle pierced your irritated torn flesh, weaving the jagged edges back together with the thick black thread. Frank mumbled a quiet apology whenever he heard your noises of affliction, doing his best to keep his touch light and delicate.

The silence surrounding the two of you was deafening, but you didn’t want to be the first to break it. Frank had yet to explain himself from this morning, and you were still incredibly pissed off at him for leaving. On top of that, you were also uncertain of your feelings about his nonchalance towards killing Walker and Cavella. The logical part of your brain rationalized the fact that Cavella had threatened to kill you, and he might have if Frank hadn’t shown up when he did. But Frank seemed completely indifferent about executing them.

He hadn’t even glanced at Walker’s body when he led you out of your room, like it wasn’t even there. The only shock that had been evident on his features was from your outrage towards him. There wasn’t an ounce of penitence detected in his tone when he voiced his justification. They were gonna hurt you, so he hurt them first. It seemed that simple to him, and in his black and white reasoning, there wasn’t a stitch of gray regarding repentance.

As Frank finished up the final stitch and wrapped your wound up properly, one of his large hands reached for your wrist, his thick fingers coiling around it completely. He lightly pulled your hand towards him, your fingertips barely grazing against his gray henley while he inspected his own handiwork. Frank paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought while he stared down at the gauze placed over your palm silently.

“I’m sorry.”

When your eyes flickered up towards his face, Frank was already staring at you, and his eyes were back to that warm chocolate brown that you adored. They seemed to be glowing with remorse under the dim amber light above the island. His plump lips were downturned at the corners in a frown, and you could see the guilt tinting his entire face. The heartwrenching look in his eyes nearly knocked the wind out of you. It sent a pang echoing throughout your chest, and all you wanted to do was surge forward and hug him, to do anything to make that look go away.

But you needed answers.

“Why…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Your voice broke off towards the end, and you had to look away to keep the onset of tears welling in your eyes from slipping. Frank carefully tightened his hold on your wrist, tilting his head to the side slightly as he followed your movements to try and catch your eyes.

“I shoulda said somethin’ before I left. Shoulda told ya I was gonna try and work somethin’ out. I’m sorry I didn’t. I…I was angry ‘bout the file-”

“Frank, I didn't read it. Okay whatever was in there that you didn’t want me to know about, I still don’t. I don’t know where it came from, and I’m sorry I never told you about it, but I would never do that to you. And the fact that you think that lowly of me-”

Frank let go of your wrist and leaned in closer to wrap his strong arms around your back, pulling you into his chest once your resolve broke. He cradled the back of your head with one of his large hands and held it against his chest protectively, pressing his lips in a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he shushed you quietly. Once the floodgates opened, you couldn’t stop them, and every emotion that you had experienced in the past twelve hours was pouring violently out of you.

“Hey, hey…s’alright. S’alright, I’m sorry. I shoulda listened to ya. I shoulda believed ya. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just…I fucked up, alright? I fucked up, and you got hurt cause of it. This…s’all on me. M’gonna fix it, yeah?”

Frank gently ran his fingers through your hair while he held you in a tight embrace, letting you wring out all your tears into his shirt, providing the safe space you needed to navigate and expunge all your emotions. He didn’t say anything while you cried, he just held you and did his best to comfort you with his apologetic touch. You don’t know how long you sat there with him like that. It felt like every drop of moisture in your body had been depleted from your eyes, but for the first time all day, your heart didn’t feel so heavy in your chest.

Once you felt a sense of calmness after your cathartic release, you slowly retracted from his embrace so that you could get a good look at him. Frank looked absolutely desolate, and it broke your heart. There was a faint red mark burning on his right cheek, and the corners of your mouth melted downwards in shame when you reached your hand up to lightly trace beneath it with your fingertips.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Reckon I deserved that-”

“No, you didn’t. You saved my life-”

“After I put you in danger cause I was bein’ an asshole.”

You could see the evident self-condemnation in his eyes, and you felt guilty for contributing to those feelings of shame that he felt about himself. Frank didn’t flinch away from your touch, and you swore you felt him subtly lean into it. His sorrow filled eyes hadn’t torn away from yours once, and you couldn’t look away from him if you tried.

“I don’t hate you.”

You could see his body visibly relax at your words. All the tension in his broad shoulders and lingering in the crevices of his features seemed to evaporate, and his evident relief was illuminated in his eyes. There was the most miniscule of a smile skirting over the edge of his mouth, and you would’ve missed it if you didn’t know him so well.

“Wouldn’t blame ya if you did.”

“I don’t.”

Frank stared at you silently while he processed the unwavering tone of your candor. You could see the conflict clearly on his face, and you wanted to prevent him from losing whatever war he was waging against himself. Letting out a soft sigh, you reluctantly dropped your hand from his cheek to run it through your hair, glancing around the nearly empty apartment before looking at him again.

“What now?”

Frank sat up a little straighter when he finally let go of you and reached across the kitchen island to grab his phone.

“Nothin’ ‘til I get ahold of my contact at Homeland. ‘Til we talk to her, you stay here. And you can’t talk to no one, alright? Not Ellison, not your friends or family, no one. Can’t trust nobody right now, you got that?”

A slight furrow formed between your brows as you stared at Frank in confusion.

“Frank, someone had to have heard those gunshots. I wouldn’t be surprised if cops were all over my place right now, and two dead cops are gonna raise a lot of attention. It’ll probably be on the news. And if Ellison sees it and can’t get in touch with me, he’ll probably report me missing.”

“Better people think you’re missin’ ‘til we figure this out. No one can hurt ya if they can’t find ya.”

“But if anyone checks those cameras, won’t they know I’m with you?”

“No ones got access to those cameras but me and Russo, and I cut ‘em off soon as I pulled up.”

The mention of Billy’s name abruptly caused more inquisitions to bubble around in your head.

“Why haven’t you called Billy for help?”

A look flashed across Frank’s face that you didn’t recognize, and it was gone before you could decipher what it was or what it meant. He gave a light shrug of his shoulders as he pursed his lips.

“Got his hands full right now.”

“What…what about Steven? Aren’t you supposed to be-’

“Fuck Steven. He’s someone else’s goddamn problem right now.”

You bit your lip to contain that smile that threatened to spread seeing the face Frank pulled at your question. He spit those words out as if they tasted bitter, his large nose scrunched up in a sour expression, and for some reason that spread heat in your lower belly.

“So, you’re not his bodyguard?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows and gave you a pointed look hearing the amusement lacing your teasing tone.

“You really think I woulda agreed to that?”

“I don’t think he would have. He’s scared of you.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to sparkle with delight at that, and the faintest of smirks tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Then maybe he ain’t so stupid after all.”

A knowing smile fought its way across your lips, and a sense of relief spread through you when he mirrored it. Frank stared at you for a moment, as if there was more he wanted to say, but he quickly glanced away and grabbed his phone while standing up.

“You should get some sleep. Take the bed.”

“Frank, I’m not-”

“You ever gonna stop arguin’ with me and just do what I ask?”

Frank tilted his head to the side as he looked down at you in pure entertainment, eyebrows lifted slightly in question with a light smirk on his lips. Glancing away with a light smile, you crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head slowly before looking back up at him with a tiny grin.

“No, probably not. But your couch seems a bit small for you.”

Frank chuckled lightly, his eyes flickering over to his couch before landing back on you.

“Appreciate the concern, but I’ve slept in far worse conditions. I’ll be fine. Go on, get some sleep.”

»»———　　———««

When you awoke the next morning, you felt more refreshed than you had in months. It was hard to fall asleep initially, brain still buzzing with the cataclysmic events of the day, and the knowledge that Frank was sleeping just on the other side of the thin wall. Being on good terms again filled you with a rush at the thought of sleeping in his bed, and you may have clutched one of his pillows to your chest pretending it was him. Frank’s bed was nothing special in theory, but there was something about being nestled in pillows and sheets that smelled just like him that lulled you into a peaceful and serene sleep.

Frank was already awake when you walked out into the living room, and you could tell by the look on his face that something had happened while he had been waiting for you to wake up. He immediately stood up from the couch when you entered the living room, giving you a once over as he motioned in your direction with his chin.

“Sleep alright?”

“Uh…yeah. What’s going on?”

Frank eyed you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words carefully. He let out a soft sigh, turning his phone over in his hands and glancing down at it before looking back at you.

“Got a lead. There’s a location upstate the rest of ‘em might be hidin’ out at.”

That one sentence instantly sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you were suddenly wide awake.

“Where? When do we leave?”

Frank’s brows pulled together as he looked at you in puzzlement, shaking his head lightly.

“No, not we. You’re stayin’ here.”

Your lips parted as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What? No. I’m coming with you-”

“It could be dangerous-”

“More dangerous than being left alone? Do I need to remind you what happened last time you left me by myself?”

Lifting your wounded hand up as evidence, Frank clenched his jaw as his eyes flickered between your hand and your face.

“No one knows you’re here. You’re safer here-”

“I’m safer with you.”

Frank pursed his lips into a dissatisfied pout as your words hung in the air. You could see the hesitation lingering in his eyes, and you quickly pounced on it, walking over to stand directly in front of him. You stared up into his eyes with a pleading expression, shaking your head slowly as you spoke in a calmer voice.

“You can’t leave me again. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll do whatever you say, I swear. No arguing. No pushback. Just…don’t leave me alone. Please.”

He seemed to visibly soften hearing the vulnerability laced in your voice, and when he let out a deep sigh of exasperation, you knew you had won. He gave you another pointed look, his voice dipping into a more serious tone.

“You do what I ask, when I ask. This shit goes sideways, I needa know you’re gonna listen. You got that?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

You could see that Frank wasn’t pleased about the thought of you joining him, but you knew you were safer with him in a potentially life threatening situation than you were on your own. If anyone could take these fuckers down, it was Frank, and you wanted to be there when he did.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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respectthepetty · 1 year

Text

My Love (Color) Mix-Up

Disaster bisexual Aoki and stoic (aro?) Ida of My Love Mix-Up/Kieta Hatsukoi are color-coded boys in love, but unlike most series where the colors are quickly given, seeing the colors emerge throughout the series was a key part of the narrative.

So we must start with the plot:

Aoki likes Hashimoto who is a Green Gal (lively and hopeful).

When Aoki thinks about her or speaks to her, he is engulfed in his color, like in this moment, he is looking at her.

But normally, this Orange Oddity's color is muted (optimistic and communicative).

Because he thinks Hashimoto likes Ida who is a Blue Boy (stable and loyal).

Yet an eraser causes Ida to believe Aoki likes him.

Instead of freaking out, Ida says "bet" and so begins the delicious color extravaganza!

As mentioned, Aoki's color is muted.

But the second Ida starts paying him some attention, Aoki's color starts evolving.

First, he morphs from tan to yellow

After Ida works with Aoki in the play and immerses him in blue

But Aoki is worried about Hashimoto's feelings since he believes she likes Ida. He discusses this with her while both are highlighted by their color with hints of the other person lingering in the shots.

Yet Hashimoto informs Aoki that she actually likes Aida, Ida's Red Rascal friend (more like a Red Flag if you ask me, but he is spontaneous and energetic).

The entire class has to go on a trip, and Aoki feels more confident in his color after Ida confesses to wanting to try being with Aoki.

Once they get back home, Aoki freaks out

But he does a great job of covering it up.

Not really. Not at all. The boy is losing it! His love for Ida is evolving quickly and his emotions are written all over him in his brightening color. Some issues emerge with Hashimoto and Aida (telling you that he is a giant Red Flag!), so Aoki mutes his color a bit to not rub salt in his friend's wound, yet his tutor even notices Aoki in love, but is bothered that Aoki likes a boy. Aoki cannot hide his feelings, so his Blue Boy becomes a vegan for a day to squash that beef.

Aoki's color comes back and Hashimoto reminds him that in order to date Ida, who is doing everything right, he has to like actually go on dates with Ida.

And just like before, Ida says "bet" and asks Aoki out on a date.

The date is great despite Aoki picking a movie where the dog dies in the end and both boys are solid in their colors.

Well, until Aoki freaks out again believing that Ida doesn't feel as deeply as he does (which it would be kind of hard to tell since Ida's sweater turns from the softest blue into white). However, with Hashimoto's encouragement, Aoki decides to properly confess to Ida about just how deep his feelings are (as if it isn't obvious).

But Ida tells Aoki that Ida already admitted to his teammates that they were dating after they questioned seeing the two out together on their date. Aoki, worried that Ida will be bullied for dating him, breaks up with Ida and falls deep into the blue.

Ida's teammates explain to Ida how Aoki came to them claiming that they were never dating and begging for the team to be kind to Ida. Ida realizing what Aoki was doing runs after him (Japan and that damn running!), and we get one of the most fucking satisfying color exchanges from any show ever.

DO YOU SEE THAT?! DO YOU SEE IT?! Aoki, void of color, walking aimlessly, immediately is surrounded by Ida's color the second Ida hugs him, then the camera pans out to show how BOTH of their colors are present.

*I'M SCREAMING!*

Ida talks to Aoki in Aoki's color letting Aoki know that he feels just as deeply for him as Aoki feels for him.

When Aoki finally turns around, both boys are equal in their colors and feelings.

Aoki believes Ida, and they sit down to watch the lights, covered in their love and colors.

And the show ends where it began, with an eraser.

This colors post was brought to you by this random piece of text

#My Love Mix Up #Kieta Hatsukoi #Aoki x Ida #the colors mean things #color coded boys in love #japanese bl

725 notes · View notes

tyunphoria · 10 months

Text

🌪️two shots of espresso, three shots to the heart — h.hyunjin (pt.1)

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT⚠️

- - - - -

camboy!hyunjin x barista!reader

SYPNOSIS: your best friend/co-worker worries about your sad, single, life-style. he suggested a — quote-un-quote — ‘dating site’ but it turned out to be an adult streaming website. you accidentally stumbled upon a streamer who went by the user @SnowFerret320 while trying to close the tab. SnowFerret also happened to be living next door.

INCLUDES: reader with she/her pronouns, best friend wooyoung, SMUT , SLOW-BURN, hyunjin being down bad for y/n, y/n being down bad for snow ferret and practically donating her whole bank account towards his streams, y/n having a thing for hyunjin’s hands, y/n being oblivious to the fact hyunjin’s snowferret for the sake of the plot.

eventually turns into FWB on later parts.

WARNINGS: voyeurism (obvi), alcohol intake, use of toys, reader getting off on his streams, hyunjin being somewhat of a perv?, pet names, praise, degradation, hand kink, voice kink, dirty talk, mentions of obsessive tendencies(?).

wc: 7.8k

! ! THIS IS PART 1 OF THE ‘TWO SHOTS OF ESPRESSO, THREE SHOTS TO THE HEART’ SERIES. ! !

✩

"Woo..." you sigh, squinting down at the nearly illegible writing on the paper.

Twisting it this way and that, frustration creases your brow as the words continue to swim and blur together.

"Your handwriting... is so ass," you mutter.

Wooyoung snatches the paper back, waving it in front of your face with a mischievous grin. "harmonymatch.com," he explains, "It's a dating site. It'll help you get laid."

You roll your eyes at his suggestion as you change into your work uniform and tie on your apron. Glancing back at Wooyoung, you give him an unimpressed look. “Tinder, yubo, elitesingles… Those are all the sites you recommended. Wanna know what they all have in common?” you list, pretending to tap your cheek in thought. “oh yeah—they never worked out!”

“Then keep digging till you find yourself a fine hunk.” Woyoung’s matchmaking efforts often caused more trouble than help. You’ve tried out multiple dating sites and in every single one of them they turned out to be a catfish or just some weirdo looking for sex.

“You’re more invested in my love life than I am.” You shook your head.

“Well,” Wooyoung starts, draping an arm across your shoulder, “that’s what cupid Woo is here for. Let your dear best friend take care of it.” His corny charisma brought a small smile to your face. As irritating as he can be, you somehow appreciate his efforts. Underneath the misguided meddling, he just wants you to be happy, and you know that.

He playfully leans all his weight on you followed by a dramatic sigh. “Like, seriously. You’re in your fossil era and yet you’re still a virgin. What’s the point in living then?”

“I’m not a virgin!” You huffed as your knees buckled under his weight, “my first time just wasn’t… ideal. And you know the people I’ve dated in the past never worked out. Whenever I think the relationship’s going great, they block and ghost me forever.”

“Maybe if you stopped being colour blind and see the red flags then maybe your relationships will work out.” He scoffed. “And your first time didn’t even count; that jackass lasted three minutes and passed out right after. Hence, making you still a virgin—“

He’s cut off by someone clearing their throat. You both turned to see a man standing there with a tight smile on his lips.

“Can I order?” His voice sounded so smooth and languid as you flushed and shoved Wooyoung off of you.

“Of course,” you stammer, “what can I get for you?”

The man—with slightly tousled dark hair that fell perfect across his forehead—his handsome gaze found lingering on yours, making your heart skip. As he paid, he flashed you another smile which caused his eyes to disappear into beautiful crescent moons.

After he leaves, Wooyoung nudges you teasingly. “Looks like you and pretty boy were having a moment.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Wait, there’s a term for it nowadays… eye-fucking, I think?” He cackled.

You shove him one last time before making your way to the back with reddened cheeks. Even though you most likely won’t see that man ever again, had he heard you and Wooyoung’s awkward sex talk? Hell, how long was he standing there for?

“That was so embarrassing…”

✩

You looked at your phone to check what time it was. 11:46 p.m, it read.

“I don’t have classes tomorrow,” you slumped in your seat, “might as well start on that term paper.”

Although it was pretty late, you just couldn’t find yourself sleeping anytime soon. For some reason, your mind just worked better at night. Moving over to the bed, you took your laptop resting the device on your lap as you leaned against the headboard.

The deadline seemed far away yet your motivation came in bursts. An hour into typing, distraction felt closer than focusing. Laying the laptop aside, you shifted to your left to turn out the lamp so you could finally ease into the stillness of the night. On the nightstand, you spotted the paper Wooyoung gave you earlier.

“He gave me a shit ton of these already,” you sighed as you took the paper, “let’s see what this one’s about.”

You typed in the website on your browser and waited for it to load. In all honesty, you just wanted to check it out to see what kind of dating site it was this time. No talking to weirdass strangers, no nothing. Just something to distract your mind at that moment. You glanced over to your right to grab an extra pillow for your sore and aching neck but when you looked back at your laptop, you were met with something unexpected.

The screen was filled with adult streamers. With their privates on full display.

“What the fuck ?!” You instinctively shut your burning eyes, trying to direct the cursor to close the damn tab.

However, much to your luck, you accidentally clicked on a random streamer, seeming as though the live had just only started.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes open and watched as the guy came in view and sat on his chair in front of the camera. He was wearing a mask, obviously, a white mask that only shows half of his face. What caught your attention was his gaze… he was staring at the camera, almost intensely, looking relaxed as he leaned back on his chair while the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth gnawing at it.

A calm electricity seemed to pulse from his stare, as if he were actually capturing your gaze and holding it captive. You gulped, fingers twitching and urged for you to close the tab but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

The suit he wore drew your eyes curiously—a tailored midnight blue with the blazer resting lightly on his sculpted shoulders, providing fleeting glimpses of the bare skin beneath. His only half-buttoned black shirt glistened as beads of sweat trickled down his dampened chest.

A small smile played on his lips as he brought his hand lower. “So…” he started with such a tone of voice, one that almost made you melt, “what were we talking about in the last stream again?”

He adjusted himself and leaned closer to the computer screen. “Ah, yeah,” a sultry laugh slips past his lips. “We were talking about if you could handle me if I fucked your brains out.” The chat went crazy at that comment he made. He didn’t bother reading them as he leaned on his seat.

He spoke with his chat for a few more minutes or so, palming the tent through his pants throughout.

A couple of them were urging him to just whip it out already and you could tell he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Okay, okay… wow, you guys are pretty desperate tonight.”

With one tug of his pants, his dick sprung up with pre-cum already dribbling down its red tip. His slender fingers wrapped around the head of his cock, the palm of his hand circling around it boredly.

“What’s my body count?” He read one of the comments while speeding up the pace of his hand.

“I—fuck… ah…” his lip twitched, sweat trickling down his temple. He bit down on his bottom lip, swirling his thumb around his tip. “Doesn’t matter… could be five, sixty, or even none… just think about how good I can fuck you…” his moans and sharp breathing filled the space of your empty apartment. With his voice the only source of sound you could hear bouncing off the walls, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you succumbed to the sound of total eargasm from this guy.

could be your new favourite asmr, who knows.

His hand started to get faster with its motion, almost like he was getting bored and just wanted to get it over with. He threw his head back, Adams apple bobbing along with each flick of his wrist.

He drew out a long whine as he licks his lips, continuing to fuck his fist.

“I bet it’d feel better if you were here… sucking my cock like my pr—ah..—precious little slut.”

“cumming…” he gulped, “cumming just for you…” With one last stutter of his hips and his abs flexing, he came. Thick ropes of come trickled down his cock and over his fingers, coating his abs in sinful pleasure as he groaned for the camera.

He swallowed a deep sigh and grabbed a couple of tissues to clean his hand. “That’s about it for tonight.” As the chat bombarded with complaints, he only ever smiled, sending a flying kiss towards the camera. “I know, I know… usually I’d stay and chat for a few more but I feel so tired. I’ll see you the next time I go live, I’ll make it up to you. Make sure to dream about me,” he drawled out.

Without even realizing it, the live had shut off and you were left sitting there with the homepage of the website on display. You were left, thinking, ‘what in the ever living fuck did I just watch?’

And the full thing at that.

“Once I get my hands on that son of a bitch Wooyoung I’ll strangle him to death.”

✩

You didn’t get any sleep. At all.

Exhausted, you dragged yourself out of bed after a sleepless night replaying that fateful stream in your head. You had barely closed your eyes when your manager called asking you to cover a shift for a sick co-worker. Great. Just what you needed.

You sighed and tiredly grabbed your keys, limbs feeling like lead as you trudged your way outside the door. Your thoughts drifted to visions of warm blankets and a nice cup of steaming hot coffee as you shut the door — causing you to walk straight into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You muttered, looking up to see your neighbor that just moved in and settled across the hall. He did look familiar… dark hair and nice plump lips. You know you’ve seen them before.

Then it hit you—he was the guy at the coffee shop yesterday.

He reached out instinctively and placed steadying hands on your arms as you lightly stumbled. His touch was brief yet it made you feel at ease. He placed a warm smile on his lips, releasing your arms and took a subtle step back to maintain a close yet not intrusive distance between the both of you.

“Good morning.” A quiet laugh escaped his lips. The sound resonates deep within you, stirring something in your mind you could not yet place.

God, he was so beautiful. More gorgeous than any model you’ve seen.

You merely nodded, still caught in the warmth of his eyes and the comfort of his smile. “Good morning.” You greeted back, nearly breathless.

When the elevator doors opened, you both stepped in as you awkwardly stood next to him. You hit the button to the ground floor, trying to subtly glance at the handsome man beside you. His all-black outfit did little to conceal his athletic build. The turtleneck compression shirt hugged his torso beautifully, accentuating his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. A duffle bag sat casually at his feet.

His eyes met yours briefly and you swore you saw the way his lips tugged up into a cocky smile. Shit, were you caught checking him out?

He took note of your slightly disheveled form. “Rough night?” He couldn’t help but say, attempting to break the uncomfortable silence that engulfed the area. “Sorry. Not in that way. You just seemed to be in a daze is all.”

Your cheeks flushed as you cleared your throat. “You have no idea…” you say, slightly embarrassed.

He laughed, running his fingers along his hair before he wore a black cap on.

“Yeah, me too.”

- - - -

“Good morning, noona! Did you check out the site I recommended—“

“Wooyoung, you lil’ shit!” With gritted teeth, you smacked the back of his head. “You didn’t tell me it was a fucking porn site!”

“Glad you liked my surprise, noona.” He pouted. “So? How was it?”

You can’t confirm nor deny that you enjoyed it. It was… something new beyond your usual comfort. Do people actually spend their time watching that stuff? In all honesty, you get it. Some people have a weekly favourite drama, youtuber, or whatever, and some have their favourite camperson. You felt more curious than judgment if anything.

Did you stay and watch the whole thing? Yes, you did. Why did you? Mere curiosity though was increasingly uncomfortable. Did you enjoy it? Hell no.

Now, let’s play a game of two lies and a truth.

Whatever. Pretend last night never happened and focus, y/n.

✩

@SnowFerret320.

That was his username on harmonymatch.

According to your friend, Aya, who is strangely familiar with broadcasting jockeys when it came to porn, he goes live once a week every Friday at exactly 11:40 at night.

“You’re telling me this, why?” You asked her.

“Personally, I like @Quokka940 better, I used to watch him when I was still single, but Ferret’s totally your type! Give his streams another chance.”

It’s been a busy week. you’ve been working part time at the cafe but also juggling to write the term paper.

In truth, you’ve been procrastinating.

Your upperclassman, Chan, always scolded you for having that shitty aspect but you only seemed to find motivation last minute. You just haven’t been doing so great lately and it took a huge toll on your stress levels.

You halted the way your fingers danced along the keyboard to crack your knuckles. “Okay. Thirty minute break time.” You concluded after only working for ten minutes, or even less. You glanced at the clock, 11:50.

‘It’s been ten minutes since his stream started…’

You shook your head, eyes widening.

‘Why the fuck would I care?’

“…”

You stared at your own reflection on the black screen of your laptop.

Then you suddenly found yourself typing the name of the site.

“I think I’m going batshit insane.”

You’re only doing this so you could feed your curiosity, you kept reminding yourself. You finally made an account and went by the user @treasure006987.

“Oh? Is that so?” The man who went by ‘Ferret’ sat on his gaming chair, pristine white shirt unbuttoned with a light sheen of sweat on his chest. You watched him lick his lips as he unzipped his pants. “A lot of you are saying you had a bad week…” he stuck out his bottom lip as your breath hitched. “How about I take care of you?”

He dipped his hand into his pants and pulled out his pretty cock. “Just follow my lead…” he continued to roll his fist around the tip, squeezing some lube on his erect cock. “Why don’t you take that off and spread your legs for me, baby… yeah, just like that,” he gulped, squelching sounds echoing in your room as he fucked his fist.

“So pretty… such a pretty baby… go on and suck your fingers… get them all nice and wet.” An odd feeling of a heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach as you catch yourself rubbing your thighs together. “Rub your slick all over your hole for me—yeah, just like that.”

You tucked your lower lip between your teeth before you finally reached into your panties, fully succumbing to the growing sensation. Your fingers flicked on your swollen clit, collecting your slick before stuffing your cunt with your fingers.

“Oh,” he groaned, his voice getting breathier, lower, sexier. “Fuck yourself on your fingers. Bet it’s still not enough, huh? Bet my fingers would stretch you out so fucking good. Too bad there’s a screen that separates us. I bet you can’t help but wish I could be there with you.” He now used both of his fists and bucked into them. He snapped his hips faster, your fingers urged to move in time with his thrusts.

You let your eyes fall shut, his moans had you spiraling. While you flicked on your sensitive bud, you heard a choked moan and as you cracked your eyes open, he hunched over the camera as he reached his orgasm, followed by the soak of your sheets.

Ferret fell silent for a few minutes, all you can hear is his labored breathing. He cleaned himself with napkins before letting out a chuckle.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

The chat explodes with nothing but positive (and horny) feedback. His eyes skimmed through the comments, but the top donors grabbed most of his attention.

@sincerely_yourstruly donated 70$: “again! again!”

“Again?” He laughed. “I don’t know if I could handle another one… you were so good for me, just thinking about you fucking yourself made me nearly cum in just two seconds.”

@badbitchnala donated 37$: “come onnnnn, pleeeaaassseee?”

@halahalamf donated 53$: “when are you finally gonna use sex toys:(“

@purpsjiminipewbs donated 90$: “would you still love us if we were all worms”

He thanked all his donors, answering their questions or comments, no matter how random they are. ‘I’m gonna regret this.’ You frowned, hesitantly reaching for your touchpad. ‘What am I doing, someone please slap some sense into me right now…’

@treasure006987 donated 150$: “glad i stumbled across your stream… you’re so pretty, can’t wait for the next time you go live.

You cringed at your own comment, exhaustion clouding your mind from such an unholy activity to think of something more original and less corny.

He could be seen squinting his eyes at his monitor. “Aww…” he smiled, “well aren’t you the sweetest thing… you new here, Treasure?”

Your heart skipped, him merely acknowledging your existence brought a giddy smile on your face. “Thanks for the donation! Hope you stick around longer, I promise I’ll be worth your while.” Bringing himself further from the camera once more, he lazily stroked his dick, thumb swirling around the leaking tip as he brought his middle and index before it slipped between his fingers. Your heart swelled in your throat at his next words.

“See this, precious? All for you… all for my Treasure.”

✩

Wooyoung recently introduced an app called Shemu. Another one of those online-shopping megastores that offers everything in such an affordable price by luring people in with the use of pyramid scheming.

“Just another Tein knock-off, they’re probably stealing my personal information as we speak.” You said as you proceeded to add more useless shit to your cart and check-out.

But somehow, your packages always get washed up on address no. 562. You’re 561.

As you ponder this oh-so frustrating predicament, a knock sounds at the door. You opened it to find your neighbor standing there with your latest Shemu package in hand.

“Hi.” He chuckled.

You groaned, running your hand down your face as you leaned against the door frame. “God, I really am sorry about this, mister…”

“Just call me Hyunjin,” he waved his hand dismissively. “And it really is no trouble. Y/n, right?”

“How’d you know my name?”

Hyunjin fell silent for a few seconds before he cleared his throat. “Well, given that this is the fifth package of yours I’ve received this week, it'd be concerning if I hadn’t known your name by now.” He smiled as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Right! Sorry, and I tried taking care of it, I swear, but every time I rang the courier service they passed me off to different departments…”

Hyunjin hummed in understanding, chewing on his thumbnail while looking down at you as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze. “Don’t worry, I know how terrible that company’s customer service is.” You nodded, gnawing nervously on your left cheek.

As Hyunjin observed you, he can’t help but play a smirk on his lips. ‘She looks so cute like this… makes me wanna pinch her cheeks..’

“How about I help you sort this out, yeah?” He offered. “I can call the courier service for you.”

You blinked, trying to process his words.

“Oh—yeah! Yeah… of course, um, come in,” you opened the door wider, kicking your jacket that was on the floor aside.

“Want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

You both sat down as he dialed the number for the service. It only took a couple of rings for them to pick up.

“Hello! You’ve reached customer service at LaserDeliveries Korea. How may I help you?”

“Hi!” Hyunjin started off with a charming greeting as he comfortably leaned back on the chair. “Hope I’m not taking up too much of your precious time. Anyhow, I’ll just get straight to the point,” he smiled, standing up and bringing the phone to his ear. “I am a valued customer who’s sick of your shit tactics for customer service. I’m honestly kinda fed up, you know?

“I hope you don’t mind, you’re free to end the call of course, but I am going to start screaming right in your ear.”

You looked at him, dumbfounded. Is—is he serious? “Um… Hyunjin, I think I can take over—“

“However, if you do wish for me to calm down, I suggest putting me on line with your supervisor right now.” He looked at you, mouthing: ‘I’ll be back’ before stepping out of your apartment.

You blinked. Then blinked again. Your mouth felt dry, genuinely speechless. You clutch the glass between your hands, trying not to let out a fit of chuckles.

After what felt like eternity, Hyunjin finally came back and placed the phone on the table and switched it to speaker.

“….yes, hello, this is the department manager speaking. I’d first like to formally apologize for the inconvenience….”

- - - -

“I seriously can’t thank you enough, hyunjin.” You smiled gratefully, giving his arm a gentle pat. “I owe you one, let me make it up to you somehow.”

Hyunjin considers for a moment. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned over and lightly brushed his lips against your ear. “How about a date?”

That unexpected question caught you off guard, briefly leaving you speechless as it made your words catch in your throat. “Uh—“

“Kidding!”

You returned his smile, laughing awkwardly yourself. Some part of you still hoped it wasn’t a joke. “How about a free iced-americano then?” He must’ve already known that you were one of the baristas in that small coffee shop nearby.

“Oh, you really don’t have to—“

“No, really, I insist.” You wanted to at least repay his thoughtfulness somehow considering he went through all that trouble screaming in someone’s ear just to fix your package issue.

Hyunjin took your hand and gave it an appreciative squeeze. “Free iced americano it is.”

You exchanged your goodbyes as he stepped back into his apartment. He plopped himself down on his bed, snatching his mask from the nightstand as he brought it up to fiddle with and observe. “Dumbass, why’d you do that?” Hyunjin groaned and rolled over to his side. “The packages were the only excuse you had to talk to her,” He exclaimed

Why should it matter? He’s getting worked up over nothing. Hyunjin thought back to your surprised and flustered reaction when he jokingly suggested you both go on a date. It was cheesy, stupid, but you were so cute he just couldn’t help it!

After he finishes his gym sessions with Changbin, he’d drop by the cafe you worked at and order the same drink over and over again. Everytime your fingers would brush against his when handing him his cup, he swore one day he may lose his composure.

Receiving your packages has given Hyunjin the first chance to speak with you personally. Of course, he just had to ruin it.

The first time your package showed up at his doorstep, he didn’t bother reading the label and opened it. Just some milk frother and a few cups, he was pretty confused at first until he read the label. There were also a few make-up products but one item caught his attention specifically:

A lipstick vibrator.

“Ha… I didn’t think she’d turn out to be the naughty type… speaking of, do I still have it?” Yes, he stole it, and yes, it was necessary. Did he have some self-restraint, god no.

It was sitting in his dresser as he placed a battery inside and sat back down on his bed. He held it up and gulped. Hyunjin tried using toys before, it just wasn’t his thing. It didn’t feel as good as the real thing or his hands.

“Won’t hurt to try something new once in a while…” Hyunjin muttered. He brushed his thumb over the vibrator, the thought of you using it crossed his mind which made his cock twitch inside of his tight jeans.

He swore quietly, fingers fiddling with the button of his shirt, then his zipper, lifting his hips up to shove his jeans down over his hips.

One hand slipped inside his boxers to free himself while the other tentatively took hold of the toy again.

“God, am I a pervert now? What am I doing…”

He grimaced at his actions and sighed. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t — none of that mattered right now when his mind was fogged with thoughts of you.

Hyunjin spat on his palm and slid it up and down on his cock a few times, shuddering at the cold and slick feeling.

He imagined your sweet voice calling to him as he sucked in a breath, picturing you bent over in front of him, grinding your hips against his. Hyunjin swiped his thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-cum that’s beaded there and dragging it down to mix with his spit.

He can already perfectly picture what you’d look like laid out beneath him with your legs spread out and your pretty pussy on full display, all just for him.

He switched the toy on, pressing it up against his tip as he moaned from the sudden vibration simulating his dick.

He scoffed out a laugh followed by a low grunt. “Y/n… I found you… I finally fucking found you.” And he doesn’t intend on losing you again either.

✩

Wooyoung squealed, pinching your elbow. “He so wants you.”

You smacked his hand away. “Stop feeding onto my delusions, woo.”

“No no no no—okay, yeah, but listen; why else would he offer to sort out the package thing?”

“‘Cause he’s sick of it showing up at his place?” You said as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, fool. It’s a tactic men like him use as an excuse to get in someone’s pants.”

Unamused by his bullshit, yet again. You told Wooyoung everything that happened yesterday while the both of you squealed like little high school girls.

Your manager, Jihyo, had to actually pop in a few times to tell you both to shut up.

“Stop it, Woo. Don’t make me more delulu than I already am—“

He gasped, subtly trying to slap your arm to get your attention. “Noona, noona, noona—“ he whispered frantically.

You groaned. “God, what?”

“Pretty boy alert, pretty boy alert—“

“Shit! Where?” You said, just as frantic. You glanced outside to see him approaching the shop with someone as you grabbed onto the collar of Wooyoung’s shirt. “Oh my god, Woo—“

He quickly slapped your hand away. “Don’t touch me, don’t even look at me, and don’t breathe towards my direction. Don’t wanna bring pretty boy’s hopes down, what if he thinks we’re a thing?”

Hyunjin and the other guy he came with both enter the shop.

He approached the counter and rolled up the sleeves of his compression shirt. “Hi, y/n.” He leaned his forearms on the counter while looking at you and, fuck, it took all your willpower to not glance down at his toned arms with veins popping attractively against his smooth skin.

You averted your gaze with difficulty, trying to focus on taking his order. “The usual?”

“You know me so well…” he spoke in an affectionate, almost aegyo-like tone, as he slightly stuck out his bottom lip to seem more cute and charming. He propped his elbow down and rested his chin on his palm.

“Quit it, you flirt.” His friend shoved Hyunjin away to scan the menu. You recognize him now (mainly due to his bright pink hair) – he’s Choi San from the engineering department. “We need to get back before coach returns from his bathroom break.” San rolled his eyes.

“He sits on the toilet for two hours doing god knows what, we’ll be fine.” Hyunjin replied dismissively with a single flick of his wrist.

“Whatever. Um… I’ll have a mint frappe.”

Wooyoung suddenly hopped in the conversation and you knew that glint in his eye all too well. The look of: I’m about to drop some shit on someone and no one can stop me.

“That’s so lame. What are you, five? Mint frappe is for virgins.”

You smacked the back of his head, looking at the both of them apologetically. “It’s fine. We go to the same college so I know him.” San scoffed, “He’s all talk but the last time he pulled a bitch was when RiverDale was still good.” Wooyoung was ready to bite back but you sent him a glare which made him hold his tongue.

“Will that be all?”

“And a strawberry shortcake. Please.”

He pulled out his card and you took it gingerly, your fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brushed against his. You couldn’t help but take one last glance at his hands again, admiring the veins that traced subtle patterns just beneath his smooth skin. You quickly averted your eyes, worried that he may notice you literally checking him out as you ran his card through the machine before handing it back.

After you placed the cake in a bag and Wooyoung handed them their drinks, Hyunjin turned to give you a sly wink just before San ushered him away, shaking his head in mild exasperation.

You tried to suppress the smile that rose unbidden to your lips as you watched them leave.

“He so wants you.” Wooyoung pinched your elbow.

“Shut up.”

✩

Ferret leaned forward, viewers grabbing a glimpse of the way his loose white tank top exposed his beautifully sculpted pecs before he leaned back. With pursed lips, he hummed. “Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be doing the usual today.” The chat immediately exploded with concerns, assuming he won’t be doing anymore streams. “I have an announcement to make that I’ve been meaning to share with you all for a while now.”

@slut4u donated 100$: “NOOOO ARE YOU GONNA ANNOUNCE YOURE QUITTING?!?!?!”

That made your eyes widen. There’s no way he was quitting. He had his hand over his mouth as he scanned the chat, drawing out a long sigh to give the viewers false hope. “I’m afraid so, my little doves…” he brought his camera higher, only showing his mask. You squint your eyes.

@treasure006987 donated 90$: “okay, hun. you can drop the act👀 what do you have up your sleeve?”

You hadn’t missed the way his eyes turned into crescents when he brought the camera higher. Ferret lowered the camera again but this time he showcased a mischievous grin.

“Oh, sweet intelligent Treasure…” you breathed out, relaxing your tensed shoulders before coming to a realization. ‘Why the fuck was I so relieved just now?’

“Okay, fine. You caught me. I know I’ve mentioned a few times on my streams that I can’t really get off by using toys.” His fingers danced along his chest, thumb running over his nipples. He raked a hand through his hair, propping it behind his head to give you a perfect view of his muscular arm. “I decided to bend the rules a bit.”

You heard a faint buzzing sound. He tilted the camera again, showcasing the vibrator in his hand.

“Especially since this is the second time my Treasure’s come to watch my stream… why not leave a good second impression.”

Your heart fluttered and thumped against your ribcage as you tried not to squeal like a giddy high school girl. With a knuckle caught between your teeth, you watched him roll the tip of the vibrator around the outline of his thick cock laying snug beneath his tight boxers.

“Ohhhh fuckkk…. Treasure…” he muttered, thick with arousal. “Hope you’re—ha..—hope you’re playing with yourself while I get off on you…” shit, was him focusing on only one of his viewers even allowed?

It almost felt like it was a private show, specifically made for you.

- - -

“Came faster than I expected…” he plastered on an awkward smile as he wiped down his torso. “Still hope that you guys enjoyed it, I’m trying to step out of my comfort zone more.” You tossed the napkins you used to clean your fingers in the nearby bin. “How about this, I’ll make it up to you by staying to chat longer than I usually do. Actually – let me show you something,”

Ferret rummaged around under his desk. “I’m sharing this to give you all false hope for my upcoming streams,” he snickered, pulling out a box full of sex toys. “A friend sent me these. I’m sure you’ve heard of him; shout-out to bbokariix. Make sure to also follow his twitter; he posts NSFW asmr if you’re into that shit. Anyways, thank you riix for – uh –” he dug his hand through and pulled out something from the box. “-- for sending me a purple 16 inch dildo.”

You spat your water out, laughing.

“Along with a note that says: ‘remember to lubricate good’ — Yeah, no. I’m not shoving this shit up my ass. Sorry to disappoint.”

“What do I usually do in my free time? Well, sometimes I do art, mainly painting…” scanning his set as he rambled, you took note of the way he preferred to keep his background pretty plain and clean. Just a normal room with a white sheeted bed at the back and black painted walls, other than that there wasn’t much to look at. You propped the laptop on your lap, bringing the screen closer to inspect what was sitting on his nightstand.

It wasn’t that you were a creepy sasaeng trying to pinpoint where his exact location was, it just happened to grab your attention. “Wait… are those the cups from our cafe?” Has he been mother fucking Hwang Hyunjin this whole time? You’re gonna feel hella dumb if he actually was. You shook your head. No way. Slim chance, there’s a million coffee shops out there and there are millions of people who just happen to like iced americanos…

But it wasn’t just that. From his hair to his complexion, it matched Hyunjin’s; fair and almost porcelain, hair that rippled with silk and framed his features beautifully. “Nah,” you said with obvious denial, “his voice is huskier! Right? Yeah, yeah…”

“….I enjoy doing portraits. I recently painted a huge self-portrait of myself. Buuuut… I’d enjoy painting your face white with my cum more.” He winked as you choked on your spit before he moved onto another comment. He really knew his way with words… you almost forgot that this is being streamed on an adult website and not just a casual talk between a streamer and his fans on Instagram or Twitch.

“What did I eat for dinner? Hm…

“does a strawberry shortcake count as dinner?”

You quickly shut your laptop closed and shoved it off your lap.

“No… there’s no way, right?” You laughed and planted your feet on the floor while you stood as your legs wobbled. “But he’s like… the most innocent guy you’ll meet. Or is he? Fuck, I’m going insane.”

Your rambling was cut short by the sound of your phone ringing.

“Hello?” You spoke and waited for the other line to respond back.

“Hey, girl!” Aya beamed. “You coming to that small get together at that barbecue place tomorrow night, right?”

“No—I mean, what?” You furrowed your brows. Since when was there a get-together? “No one told me about thi—“

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7, don’t forget to wear something cute cause the hot babes from engineering are gonna be there. See you, darling!”

✩

Both you and Aya arrived at the restaurant and spotted some familiar faces waving over at you. You shuffled your way to their table and claimed a vacant seat.

Chan greeted you with a hug and a small pat on the head. “Hey! Glad you guys can make it.”

“My God, barely!” Aya cried out and plopped down on the space beside you. “Y/n called me over earlier so I can help her pick out an outfit and it took her over an hour to decide on a dress.” She explained. “I got so fed up I just grabbed the closest thing next to me and shoved this bitch in my car.” Chan threw his head back and laughed heartily. His broad shoulders shook with amusement as his dimples can’t help but bring a smile to your face as well.

Your fingers tugged at the hem of your short dress, feeling as though your thighs are too exposed. “I look like a prostitute.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Aya smacked your hand away. “Stop being so conservative like a grandma attending church on a Sunday morning. This is why you’re a virgin.” Her sense of style really clashed with your more modest preferences.

“Yeah, sorry, like, my bad that I don’t wear booty shorts that ride up my crack during winter.” You rolled your eyes.

Chan took a small swig of his drink before hopping back in the conversation. “You should stop playing league of legends with Wooyoung.. You’re starting to sound like him, Aya.” The mention of Wooyoung’s name piqued your interest. His absence was unusual for group gatherings, since usually he’d be the first one there.

“Speaking of, where’s he anyway?” The others shrugged, wondering the same thing regarding the lack of Wooyoung’s loud presence. It was unlike him to miss a get-together.

“San! Over here!”

You craned your neck to greet San but the sight of a specific someone had your heart beating thunderously.

They sat themselves across from you and Chan. Aya was the first to address it,

“Who’s this hottie you brought with you? New kid from your department?”

“Nah. He’s the rookie I met at the gym weeks ago.” San nudged him to go introduce himself. His eyes flickered to yours briefly which set your tummy in a stir.

“Hello, I’m Hyunjin. I just moved here not too long ago.”

Aya suddenly gasped and slapped your thigh which drew their attention to you. “Omg, is that the sexy neighbor you’ve been telling me about—“ she whispered in your ear. You would’ve appreciated it more if she were more subtle. You slapped her thigh back, with gritted teeth you whispered “Shut up!” Your face warmed up and you were tangled with the heat of his gaze.

You took in as much of his face before he buried his nose in the menu.

- - - -

You took another swig from the soju bottle, relishing the familiar burn as the liquid slid down your throat. You felt a slight buzz coming on, a pleasant warmth spreading through your limbs. You giggled at something your classmate said, though you hadn’t really heard them properly. Your thoughts became fuzzier by the minute.

“I think that’s enough drinking for tonight.” SnowFerret — no, Hyunjin said with amusement as you tried to grab another soju but accidentally knocked it over but he instinctively caught the bottle just in time.

Chan’s brows furrowed in concern. “Man… who knew y/n is such a heavy drinker.” He scratched his cheek in thought. “Aya, can you take her home?”

Aya suddenly stood up with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m really sorry but something came up and my girlfriend needed to be picked up from her workplace.” Chan waved a dismissive hand and told her to drive safe as she kissed your drunk state on the forehead and gave Chan a quick side-hug. Before she went to go leave, she flashed you a subtle wink

Hyunjin piped in. “I can take her,” he offered. “We’re neighbors so it’s no trouble at all.” Chan looked relieved, thanking him and turned to you who still sat there in a drunken daze.

“Well, good luck mate, I think you’ll need it.”

- - - -

The elevator doors slid open and he guided you inside, letting you lean against him for support. Your breathing was slow and heavy as the effects of the alcohol continued to weigh on you. As the elevator began its ascent, he glanced down at you who had your eyes closed. The sight tugged at his heartstrings as he wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you.

“So cute…”

When the elevator reached your floor, he gently nudged you. “We’re here.” He whispered with his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine and with hazy eyes and a drunken smile, Hyunjin patted down the pockets of your dress to look for your keys till he received a text notification from San.

Choi San🗻: ‘u left her purse at the restaurant. L stoopid beetch 🍆🍑💦’

“Shit.” He muttered and unlocked the door to his apartment instead. Hyunjin gently helped you onto his bed, propping the pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. “Wait here, I’ll get you some clothes to change into.”

“Nooo…” you whined and grabbed his collar. “Jush stay heeereee…” pulling him towards you with surprising strength for someone so intoxicated. He lost his balance and stumbled forward, forearm instinctively braced by your head on the pillow while the other found your waist.

His breath hitched as he gazed down at you, taking in your features blurred by drunkenness but still undeniably gorgeous in his eyes. Lush lips slightly parted, eyes heavy-lidded yet full of longing. An aching tenderness welled up within him, yearning to soothe the haze of intoxication with something more lasting and true.

Your arms wound around him, breaths mingled and faces only inches apart. “No? But isn’t this,” he hooked his finger under the strap of your bra, pulled it, and let it slap back against your skin. “Uncomfortable?” You arched your body into his as his words stirred up something in your brain.

You muttered something quietly. Hyunjin leaned forward and brought his face towards your neck to hear you better. “Then take it off for me, why don’t you…” you gave a soft playful giggle then patted his cheek in a patronizing way.

“Fuck, don’t say that.” He said sternly, breathless almost. His fingertips ghosted over the plush of your thigh, trailing it up your dress.

He suddenly stopped. “Sorry, um,” you whined at the lack of his warmth.

“Why’d you stop?”

“You’re drunk.” Though is it directed at you or a reminder to him?

Your thighs clenched, and he took note of that. Hyunjin didn’t wanna take advantage of you while you were still intoxicated. You can’t recall a time you’ve been this horny and it’s over your own neighbor. Your hand landed on his chest and dropped to his abdomen. “Don’t…” you slurred, feeling his firm abs underneath your fingers felt like an electric current snapping all the way to your thighs.

The alcohol then spoke for you. “I know your secret.” He cradled your cheek in his hand and ignored the way the uncomfortable tent in his pants pressed up against your leg.

“Is that so?”

You hummed. “You’re this guy… this guy I follow. He has this, um, wackass Duolingo generated name,” you snapped your fingers, trying to remember.

“Yeah?” Before he could process what was happening, your lips were suddenly on his. He made no effort to resist nor pull away as he even tugged you insistently closer. Your mouths slanted together hungrily, your other hand running up his nape and tangling in his hair. Hyunjin could taste the remnants of the alcohol on your tongue but underneath it was the unmistakable flavour of yourself — it also intoxicated him, in an entirely different way.

Yielding to the kiss, Hyunjin shifted, so that his knee was pressed up against your heat. You made a tiny noise and moaned against his lips. “SnowFerret.” He stopped and pulled back slightly to look at you.

“What?”

“You’re SnowFerret,” You repeated.

He showed no signs of surprise or discomfort despite the cat being out of the bag. He plastered on no outward reaction but his thoughts were racing along with the fast thump of his heart. “Am I now?”

There will be time for confrontation later, for now he simply savoured the intimacy of the moment. Leaning once more, he kissed you tenderly, relishing the feel of your soft lips.

One hand tangled in your hair while the other held your waist firmly against his. You grasped his shirt as your tongues fought against each other. “You’re a fan, huh… you enjoy my content, baby? You enjoy watching me fuck my own fist?” Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer as he softly sucked on your lower lip.

“Wanna know another secret?

“I can never stream without having you in my thoughts like a fucking plague.” Hyunjin whispered between kisses along your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of heat wherever his lips touched, nipping softly at your pulse point which drew a gasp from your lips. “You know,” he whispered into your skin as his thumb flicked your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of dress, sending shivers down your spine.

“I hate you for leaving me.” He caught himself before going any further as he groaned in frustration and raked his nails on the bed sheets.

Hyunjin lifted himself up to gaze into your half-lidded eyes still clouded from the alcohol. He wanted to say so much, but he knew that in your current state his words might seem confusing. That was the point. He hoped that you’d forget everything by morning.

"I hate you for making me think you'd come back.”

His thumb stroked over your lips as if tracing the curve of each syllable. "I hate you for making me so insane about everything about you, that all these years I couldn’t think of anything else but to feel these lips again.

“I even hate myself for still wanting you after all this time,” he scoffed out a laugh.

“I hate you. But good luck getting rid of me.”

a.n: ok, this isnt the ceo hyun fic i promised but yk what?

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨💨

also, one scene inspired by the manhwa called full volume. not proofread.

#reader insert #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez san #hyunjin x reader #skz hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #smutwarning #snowferret

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tired-teacher-blog · 11 months

Text

An early morning treat

Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Oral sex (male receiving)/ One Shot

Notes : Cautiously posting what could possibly be my last work here after its first part was flagged -in addition to countless other pieces- I'm sick and tired of people reporting my shit even after adding the appropriate warnings and tags, so if this one gets reported as well, then I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye to tumblr. Banner by : @/cafekitsune

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Part1

You lean against the doorframe of your shared room, smiling sweetly as you watch him fast asleep.

The first rays of today's light are seeping through the curtains to cascade an illuminating beauty upon his bare skin. He looks relaxed, defenseless, a rare sight that you pray to engrave in your memory for eternity.

One arm is over his torso while the other is tucked under the fluffy pillow you recommend in order for him to experience a peaceful slumber, which by the looks of it, seems to be working.

The steady rise and fall of his lean chest catches your eye, he is undeniably comfortable in his surroundings, soft snores and relaxed expression are giving you the same sense of tranquility he's emitting.

Your gaze travels to the huge clock hanging on the opposite wall, surprised to read it's past ten o'clock.

It's unusual for him to sleep in, regardless of it being a day off or otherwise, it's expected however, following your last night's wild and unholy activities that left you both drained, fuzzy and satisfied.

You bite down on your lip as the memory of him flipping your world and messing your insides -all night long- crosses your mind.

A sudden wave of heat washes over you, and a familiar carnal desire revisits your senses, it's time for him to wake up anyway, so why not make it interesting?

You slowly waltz his way, sitting on the edge of your bed and giggling to yourself while tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, "cute" is what you mutter amusingly before running your fingers along his cheeks.

He stirs and grumbles incomprehensibly, but his eyes are still shut and his body unconscious, coaxing you to leave a line of soft pecks leading to his ear where you linger, "Shouta, come on honey it's getting late."

Your whispered words tickle his skin, and his eyes finally flutter open to be welcomed with a sparkling smile, "mornin' princess," and it's deep and groggy, stirring every cell in your body.

_ "Good morning sleepy head." your lips find their way to his parted ones, kissing slowly and deeply as if to quench an insufferable thirst.

_ "What's gotten into you?" he's pleasantly bewildered, not entirely searching for an answer per se, but rather a way to slow you down until he's fully awake, nevertheless his lips are still following yours.

_ "Returning the favor." you don't offer any further explanation, making your way down his scruffy jawline and slender neck, to leave a trail of wet little kisses in your wake.

_ "Favor?.. oh!" he gets it at last, flashbacks of the night before crawl their way back to his brain as he finally regains full consciousness.

Your body shifts swiftly to straddle his hips, black t-shirt he offered you last night -following your shared shower- is hiking up your legs with every little move of yours, your lips are still attached to his warm flesh, and your kisses are getting hungrier and needier the more you travel the expanse of his scarred skin.

_ "Fuck.. so you're serious?" a chuckle is lacing his surprised words, not because he's never witnessed your assertive attitude before, but because it's just too thrilling to get used to.

He glides his thick fingers through your hair, tightening his grip slightly as a satisfied sigh escapes his throat.

The corner of your mouth turns up in utter amusement, it feels nice to see your impact on him, and it arouses your desire to continue.

His gaze is finally focused, following your eager hands as they slide down his torso and trace every flexing muscle in their path until they reach his boxer briefs.

You look up one more time to find him propped up on his elbows, a gleam in his eye and a hint of blush dusting his cheeks, a titillating view indeed that almost draws a moan out of your mouth, almost.

You pull his boxers down slowly, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation, and gasping in surprise as his length bounces back against his tummy.

A cheeky grin spreads across your face at the enticing discovery, and your lips instinctively peck his -already- oozing tip to savor the intoxicating flavor awaiting.

_ "Fuck.. I'm going mad." his voice is rough as he hisses, bucking his hips slightly to follow your retrieving mouth.

_ "Patience Shouta, I promise you'll enjoy this immensely." you coo between little giggles as you position yourself better on his tense thighs, encasing them between your own, and leaning forward to claim his throbbing cock once more.

Your hands find their way to his base, cradling him gently and pumping your fists up and down his length.

_ "Does this feel good?" you feign innocence as you voice your question, peering under your lashes to witness a pair of heavy eyes staring back at you hungrily, but his only response is a low growl that resonates across the otherwise quiet room.

Your smile widens as you give your attention back to his needy shaft, wet tongue darts out to lick the underside of his thickness before twirling around the angry tip.

_ "Don't tease me." he winces through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hair as if to protest against your antics.

You feel empowered, relishing his shallow breathing but ultimately decide to grant his wish. You open your mouth a bit to take in the smooth head, sucking on it like a sweet lollipop and flicking your tongue against the seeping slit.

Your hands move along the rest of him, picking up the pace and humming delightfully as a raspy "good girl" flows past his lips.

You take more into your warmth, swirling your tongue along the protruding veins while bobbing your head skillfully.

The more you go down on him, the further your shirt -his shirt- slides over the arch of your spine to reveal the supple flesh and curve of your plump butt cheeks to his greedy eyes.

He's grunting and cussing frustratedly as he's unable to reach your luscious bum from his position. It's torture, cruel and delightful torture.

You hallow your cheeks and squeeze him deliciously while one of your hands move down to massage his heavy balls.

You strive to relax your throat and take as much of his beefy cock as you possibly can without chocking, your saliva mixes with his clear precum to create lascivious noises all around you.

He lets go of your hair and grips on to your jaw, tilting your head up and releasing himself from your eager maw, "ah fuck, you look so good like this." his thumb traces your swollen lips as he murmurs, watching the glossy slick trickling down your chin before sheathing himself back within your welcoming mouth.

He's close, too close in fact, that he'll barely be hanging on to his sanity for much longer, and the realization excites you immensely.

You start moving faster and faster around him, taking more of his throbbing stiffness with each dive, while your fingers keep fondling his tight balls.

_ "Babe stop, I'm about to cum! Shit.." he chokes a warning while trying to push you away but you refuse to budge, clinging to him and bracing yourself for an imminent treat that you would hate to let go to waste.

His hands shoot back to thread through your tousled hair as he thrusts up and hits the back of your abused throat, teeth sinking into his lower lip and eyes blazing with intense desire while watching himself disappear into your overstimulated mouth.

You whimper and whine as you struggle to breathe, digging your nails into his sides and bobbing your head faster to meet his thrusts.

_ "Shit! I'm cumming sweetheart! I'm cumming!" he announces only a moment before bursting at last, spilling his pearly seeds and coating the inside of your warm slippery maw.

You eagerly take it all in, sucking on the sensitive tip to lure any remaining drops before finally releasing him to sit up and swallow your delectable reward.

_ "That was.. fuck, come here." he effortlessly pulls you closer to lay on his chest, smiling widely and drowsily while caressing your cheeks and pecking your reddened lips, "are you feeling alright princess?"

You nuzzle his large hands and nod, a deep content sigh leaving your chest as your eyes lock with your lover's, you don't speak, knowing all too well that your voice is yet to be trusted, but you return the loving smile he's offering, delighted to know that he enjoyed your little surprise.

_ "Good morning indeed."

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x y/n #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa headcanons #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shouta aizawa fluff #shota aizawa fluff

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demonicbaby666 · 5 months

Text

Tears on the Window Pane

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Lena Luthor x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 2.6k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, toxic ex, jealousy, alcohol, rough sex, fingering, humiliation (if you look hard enough), semi-public sex, degradation, hair pulling, asphyxiation, daddy kink, top!Lena, bottom!reader

Summary: months after a breakup, you bump into your ex. Though the relationship was filled with turmoil, and you’d long since believed you’d learnt some valuable lessons from it, it seems you’re not as strong to resist as you think.

A/n: this was originally going to be an enemies-to-lovers story but then a devilish creature crawled out from a dark corner of my room, muttered mean!Lena really seductively in my ear, and I was helpless to fight what came over me then...

It was foggy that Friday night. National city's streets pulsed with life as people filtered out of bars and clubs, only to move on to the next, then the next. When their wobbly steps turned solely to stumbling, they would wave their white flags and surrender to the night or, better yet, early morning. That, too, is what your plan had been - to wander aimlessly with a group of friends until your head spun and your feet hurt, till the sun rose from beneath skyscrapers and the morning breeze would snip away at the lingering effects of hard liquor and cheap beer. Those plans, however, had been wholly derailed when you made your way into a club, and tendrils of cold shivers made their way up your spine, forcing your gaze to flicker over the swarming sea of sweaty bodies, landing on one person.

If it were a year ago, a mousy smile could be caught stretched across your lips. A sudden timidness to being perceived by this goddess whom you'd once called your girlfriend may have even sent butterflies flittering low in your stomach. But a year ago, you were naive, blinded by flashing lights that coloured red, green and toxic, sweet.

You stood there, hand in hand, with a stray girl your group had adopted for the night, past feelings dwindling low in your stomach as your mind walked the line between now and then. Fear had the muscles in your stomach tensing, pupils dilating, and legs refusing to heed the commands of the arm tugging you towards the bar. The other emotion you harboured was similar in nature. However, it differed in that although its predecessor forced your legs to remain rooted, this successor wedged them closed to alleviate the quickening pulse, growing thick and lively.

Trying to ignore that even from a distance Lena's eyes had locked onto your every move with chilling precision, you elbowed your way to liquid relief. It had been your intention to leave after slinging back a few shots of watered-down vodka, but then came the shift - the subtle twist in your gut that made you courageous enough to entertain the attention you were receiving rather than cower away from it.

With a turn of your head and a feeling of which direction to turn in, you granted yourself a few moments to really take the CEO in. She appeared to have come straight from a business meeting, dressed in a navy suit, surrounded by white-collared men and women all fighting to gain recognition. And yet, she gave them nothing. She remained silent. Eyes cemented on the light sway of your hips and the shrinking space between you and the unknown body lurking beside you.

With each boom from the speakers and the accompanying shake of the floor, bodies morphed together until there was only Lena and the blur of scattered masses. The music died in your ears, reduced to a faint hum, and the constant pounding of the bass became secondary to the pounding of your heart. The beginning of a slow-motion step forward was attempted, the heel of your boot hitting the sticky floor before, "You want to dance?"

The spell was broken. Music assaulted your eardrums. The reek of alcohol polluted your nose, and calloused fingers brushed your elbow before a tall figure obstructed your view, sporting an aggravatingly hopeful smile.

"What?" you snapped, not realising how harsh your tone was until the man’s unabashed beam faltered. You tried again, this time softer. "It's loud in here. What did you say?"

There was a charming awkwardness to him. The way he rubbed a palm over the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh made you feel bad for the guy.

"Come have a dance with me?" he asked, voice gruff but not entirely unpleasant.

The human blockade made it hard to gauge if Lena was still watching, and in the absence of her scrutinising glare, you allowed yourself to be led to the crowded dancefloor.

As the music flowed and your body moved, you let your mind wander. You thought back to the breakup and how the following months were spent re-wiring your brain, re-learning how to make decisions independently and cultivating a life centred around yourself. You’d told yourself it had been worth it. The freedom was blissful, and opportunities popped up where they had never seemed to before. But with the merriment came the bittersweet - evenings spent alone, men thinking they had free rein to eye fuck you and, occasionally, get handsy. A day didn't go by where you wouldn't crave the guidance and praise Lena bestowed. But more than anything, you missed the feeling of being wholly owned. It was that deep-rooted longing that had you looking back to Lena.

Despite not being in a relationship with the woman, the look she was shooting at the poor man behind you led you to believe her claim over you was still unconquered, and that single fact should have sent you running. But once again, strobing lights really did have a way of distorting things.

Her gaze remained fixed, and though it was unnerving, it was thrilling. Being with Lena was always like this. She was intense and stubborn and so damn territorial it spoke directly to the servile side of you in a way that nothing and no one else ever could. It made you desperate to bend to her will, no matter the costs. The only problem then was you weren’t hers to bend, and it became clear in that second that that needed to change.

You kept up the act, dancing as provocatively as stilettos would allow and laughing along to rehearsed pickup lines. The last straw for the fuming brunette came when a pair of hands snaked around your waist, pulling you back into a muscled torso, and a pathetic little jab touched your ass. Lena was up on her feet and charging towards you in no time.

"Hands off,” the older woman growled, digging her blunt nails into your forearm and yanking you forward.

"Take it easy.” The man tried to make a grab for you, but Lena beat him to it, stepping forward to shield you from his grasp. Instantly, he backed away, throwing his hands up. “I didn't know she was spoken for."

"Shut the fuck up." Lena was seething, her jaw clenched and her eyes vicious. “If you even think of you touching her again, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to you."

She didn't wait for a reply to come or give notice to the small crowd that had formed around the three of you. Instead, Lena hauled you into the bathroom in record time, practically threw you into an open stall door and pressed your front firmly against the wall.

"A few months, and you're already whoring yourself out,” came the surly voice from behind you. "Did you learn nothing?"

"I," you tried to answer, but a hand fell over your mouth, silencing you.

"You're disgusting,” she sneered. "What makes you think I care what you have to say?"

The palm over your lips was held tight. There was no space between slim fingers and no room to breathe from anywhere other than your nose. A woeful whimper arose from the back of your throat, sounding so pathetic heat rushed to your face and painted your cheeks pink.

The fact you knew, from experience, there was no way to get out of Lena's hold evaded you. From the surface level, it could be said you were under the assumption your sudden hike in mental strength extended to your physical. However, deep down, you knew the fight was what you and Lena needed. All that pent-up anger, resentment, and hunger required liberation, and together, that was something you always did well.

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" Lena snarled, lodging her foot between your heels and wedging them apart until you were spread open for her. "I bet if I reached into your panties, I'd find you soaked."

As predicted, the contentious grunt that heaved a puff of cool air out your nose and elbow to the gut sparked something primal in Lena. It forced her hand to the back of your neck, where she pushed your cheek harder into the wall and laid a stinging slap over your clothed cunt. The yelp that followed met a quick demise, cut off by bracketed fingers restricting your airways and survival instincts chose then to seek the help of your hands. They flailed about, aimlessly reaching out for Lena, begging her to stop or to give you more; you didn't know. All you knew was your mind's conflict.

The top half of your body fought hard, shoulders driving back and forth, whilst the bottom speedily submitted, rocking against the minimal pressure Lena's palm offered and greedily pushing down to gain more stimulation. It was all in vain, of course.

"Pathetic," she tutted, delivering another swift slap to your aching sex. "Little slut wants her pussy fucked?"

"Lena, please,” you quietly sobbed.

Swift as the wind, the brunette had your back to the wall, one hand gripping your jaw, the other holding your wrists above your head.

"Please, what?" she goaded, pushing your head up to work the blank space of your neck with not-so-gentle bites, topping them off with soothing licks.

"I d-don't know," you whined.

It wasn't far from the truth. Your mind was hazy from alcohol. You were letting your body lead you into something you knew you’d later regret. But the scariest thing was that it didn't frighten you at all how willing you were to throw months of hard work away. You knew what you wanted. The problem was grappling with whether it'd be a good idea to say the words out loud.

Your indecisiveness earned you a piercing pain that rang from the veins of your neck to the tiniest of capillaries in your toes. There was no way to see the irreparable damage done. Alas, there was no need. You felt the sharp edge of each tooth sink into your throat, marking you. The agony, however, was thankfully quashed seconds later as you received your second reprimand. Between the tearing of lace and Lena thrusting three fingers into your tight channel, there was no time to stop the ear-splitting moan that tumbled from your lips and bellowed over the bathroom stalls. The sound alone sent any remaining occupants fleeing in fits of laughter as your stomach sunk due to both mortification and arousal.

With Lena's new hand placement came the opportunity to use your hands again. Instead of using this as a chance to fight back, you pulled Lena up from the nook of your neck and hastily interlocked your lips together in a frenzied kiss. She reciprocated at first, then drew a sharp breath before pulling away. You attempted to chase her. However, you were woefully mistaken in thinking you had the authority to initiate such an act again. A brutal strike of curling fingers taught you that, alongside the smirk you witnessed when your eyes flew wide open and a shove to your neck forced the back of your head to collide with the wall. Lena wasn't shy with her pace after that. It was like she was adamant about proving how easy it was for her to drive you crazy.

Trailing fingers up your jaw to the back of your neck, Lena bundled your loose waves into a bun and tugged, forcing you to look into her blackened eyes as she frowned. "Do that again, and I'll bring you to the brink over and over again, then leave you here crying. Understand?"

You heeded the warning with fast nods and chants of 'yes, yes, yes', which seemed to please the brunette. She kept up her hurried movements, digits sliding rapidly up and down your hot canal, occasionally curling to stroke the rough patch of tissue that had you seeing stars.

The closer you got, the harder it was to remain still, and when Lena didn't stop your hips from matching the flow of her ministrations, you were beyond grateful. In fact, the move garnered reward, specifically a svelte hand moving south to knead your breasts. It turned out this was only a distraction from the nimble thumb readying itself for work. A swipe to your clit followed the next hit to your sweet spot, and before you knew what was happening, your stomach muscles were convulsing, and pangs of liquid heat soared through every vein in your body.

Your breaths were short and shallow. Lewd moans were given free rein to fill the four walls of the suffocating stall, and the thrumming bass coming from outside was being overtaken by the pulsing sound of blood pumping in your ears. Yet, somehow, through it all, you could still hear the shameful jabs Lena was throwing at you.

"I'm going to,” you began, only to be cut off by a stern voice.

"I don't think so, honey,” she interjected. “Who decides when you get to come?"

"Lena, oh god, Lena," you cried, squeezing around her fingers and trying to stop the tight coil in your gut from unfurling. "I can't!"

"Who tells you when you get to come?" Lena barked, slowing down.

Tears were welling in your eyes, giving shine to the stars interspersed across your vision.

"You!"

"Who?!" Lena sped up again, redoubled her efforts and slipped a fourth finger inside you, filling you so completely that your knees almost buckled beneath you. Even still, you weren't granted permission to release the strained muscles holding you from your orgasm.

"Fuck!" you screamed. A tear spilt down the side of your face, your jaw shook, and blood coated your tongue as you bit the inside of your cheek, tearing into the smooth flesh. “You do, Daddy!"

Just when you thought you might pass out, hot breath skimmed the shell of your ear, and Lena whispered the words that were your undoing.

"I want everyone to hear you. Come nice and hard for Daddy."

Finally, you let go. All the pent-up tension rushed to the surface like a tidal wave. It submerged you in a whirlpool of flooding pleasure that had you shouting out for Lena, begging her to hold you steady whilst you shook and shook for what felt like hours. Her arm was around you in no time, providing a lifeline to hold onto whilst her fingers kept you under, massaging soft tissue.

You stood there, mind numb, body useless, until the shudders passed, and Lena carefully pulled her fingers out of you. It wasn't until after feeling had returned to your legs and the strain of standing wasn't registering that you realised Lena was practically holding you up. Her arms were on your hips, and her body firmly pressed you to the wall, so there was no chance you'd keel over.

When your eyes met, you detected the slightest bit of worry, making your heart skip a beat, and that alone was why you didn't argue when the next thing she said was, "I'm taking you back to mine."

It wasn't so much a walk to the car; rather, Lena stormed through the club, dragging you alongside her before slamming you against the back door of the vehicle and kissing you silly. At first, you were taken aback. Her reluctance to do just this only minutes ago was still echoing between your legs. You shook it off and accepted the moment for what it was: fleeting. That was when the rain started to fall, and the drunken mob's laughter erupted into roars of childlike amusement, and for the first time in a while, you felt content.

You laughed and laughed and laughed, genuine bubbling girly giggles shaking your chest and vibrating between rain-kissed lips.

"I'm so screwed," you half-whispered, half-sighed, nestling your head into Lena's neck. And as the sky cried a fresh set of trickling tears that splattered off the car's window panes, you happily bled a few of your own.

"Mmm," the older woman hummed in agreement, kissing your temple lightly. “Yes, you are."

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