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#but anything's gonna feel like being touched by god if you crawled through hell on your knees to reach it
sematarygirls · 9 months
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Could you post what you have so far for living dead girl so we aren’t left hanging?
sure! i already posted it a bit ago, but it was quite awhile ago, so i'll be happy to post it again for you <3
it sort of makes me cringe when i read it now but i'll take one for the team
"What the hell do you want from me?" Patrick asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice as he spun around to face you.
You grinned wickedly, trailing your fingers along his chest. "To feel your fear," you whispered darkly, leaning in so your lips ghosted over his earlobe. "Are you scared yet?"
"Fuck you," he scoffed, stepping away. "I'm not afraid of some little bitch"
"Oooh," your eyebrows furrowed in distaste as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Such a vulgar mouth." Faster than he could even comprehend what was happening, your hand reached up, gripping his throat with inhumane strength.
He sputtered something incoherent as he tried to fight you off him, clawing at your arm, hand, face, anything he could touch, but you were completely unfazed, staring into his eyes with a fire that ignited a foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Do you know what it's like to die?" You asked through gritted teeth. He tried to shake his head, his movement hindered by your hold on his neck. "Would you like too?" You grinned sinisterly, watching the fear in his eyes grow for a moment before pushing him back and releasing his throat from your grip.
He stumbled backward, tripping over the end of his bed as he gasped for air. His eyes were blown wide, all bravery gone as he crawled away from you.
"Relax," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You disappeared, appearing in front of him in a crouched position so you two were eye to eye. You pressed your hand to his cheek, caressing it lightly which caused him to recoil away from you. "I'm not gonna kill you," you flashed a dark grin his way as he stared at you with fear. "I'm not done playing with you yet."
"Get the fuck away from me," he croaked out, voice weak from both being choked and being frightened half to death, but he still tried to regain his dominance.
"You're in no position to make demands," you laughed humorlessly, obeying him nonetheless and giving him a bit of space. You flopped down onto his bed, making yourself comfortable as if you hadn't been strangling him a moment prior. "Your bed is surprisingly comfortable."
He carefully pulled himself up from his position on the ground, staring at you as he crossed the room quickly, making his way to the door. With a wave of your hand, the door slammed shut. "W-what? How did you-"
"Are you really this stupid?" You groaned, placing your arms behind your head and watching in amusement as he tried to open the door to no avail. "I guess I'll spell it out for you. I'm a ghost. I'm dead. I have otherworldly abilities," you said, explaining it for him in a few different ways. "Does that pretty much clear it up for you?"
"This isn't happening to me. This can't be happening to me," he murmured to himself, fiddling with the doorknob.
"God, you're whiny," you scoffed. He froze, his back straightening as he thought for a moment. After a beat, he turned around, advancing toward you with a newfound bravery.
"You're nothing," he seethed, looming over you. "You're not real. I'm real."
"Ooooh," you smirked, gazing up at him. "Finally, some fire."
"Listen here you little bitch," he wrapped his fingers around your neck, choking you as you had done to him. He glared at you as he climbed onto the bed, hovering on top of you. His eyebrows furrowed, words dying in his throat as he watched a grin spread on your face.
"Can't feel pain, babe," your lips curled upwards, a condescending edge in your voice. "Only," you trailed off, swiftly flipping you two over so that you were on top of him. "Pleasure." You watch his eyes darken significantly as he licked his lips. "One of the many parks of being dead; I suppose."
He clenched his jaw, hands falling away from your neck and resting on your hips instead. "Y'know I gotta give you a little credit. I was so," you sighed. "Bland when I was alive." Your eyes trailed to the space where his shirt had ridden up, exposing a bit of his stomach, the exact place where he had driven a knife into you. "The perfect victim, huh."
"You were pathetic," he degraded, flashing his Cheshire cat grin at you.
"No," you shook your head, disappearing and reappearing on the other end of the room. "You're pathetic," you taunted, promptly disappearing from his view and leaving him all worked up.
He called your name, demanding you come back to him or suffer the consequences. You, of course, watched from the shadows, invisible to the human eye as he stared at his ceiling, a scowl etched on his face as he laid in discomfort.
You had power over him. This was your unfinished business. You were meant to make him feel how he had made you feel— weak, small, helpless. You were made to make him suffer.
He laid in bed, processing the events that had happened up until now and trying to ignore the tightness in his jeans. "Fuck," he groaned, standing from his bed and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He was hot, too hot. It felt like his skin was on fire.
He stumbled to the bathroom, the feeling on his skin something unnatural— he fucking knew that you were behind it. He couldn't tell whether he hated it or enjoyed it. It was walking the thin line between torture and ultimate pleasure. It burned so bad that it almost felt good.
He turned the shower on, stepping into the ugly green bathtub, only shedding the rest of his clothes once they were soaking wet. He groaned out in relief as the freezing water soothed his skin.
This feeling was shortly lived as he heard your laugh resounding through the house which had him gritting his teeth.
Never in his life had he been met with his match. He couldn't hurt you. That was what got him into this mess, and he couldn't fuck with your mind because you were fucking with his.
He knew that feeling he felt, that anger every time he looked at you, was him staring at the only other real person in this shitty world, but he ignored it. He killed you, killed someone godly like himself, and was now facing the consequences.
"Fuck you!" He shouted, slamming his palms against the shower tile as water dripped down his body.
"You wish," your voice whispered right in his ear, but when he turned, he was met with nothing. The feeling on his skin vanished all at once, causing him to yell out as the icy water pelted his skin like hail. He fumbled, quickly turning it off with a frustrated sigh.
You were messing with him, and you were enjoying it. He hated being your plaything. He hated feeling weak and powerless like the animals he'd torture and kill and the loser kids he'd bully with his friends.
He lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head, shirt riding up to reveal a small portion of his stomach as he thought about you.
Nothing had ever plagued his mind as much as you had, and it drove him mad. Most recently, his thoughts had been filled with feeling your lips on his, and your hands on his burning skin. Something about the fact that you were dead, murdered by his hands made him want you more than he'd wanted anything in his life.
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aquilathefighter · 1 year
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smapril 13
Day 13  huddling for warmth | "And how would you make me scream?" thank you @staroftheendless for the prompts as always! tags: roommate au
“The heat in the flat’s gone out. In the middle of winter. Well, are you gonna do anything about it!?” Hob shouts into the phone. He taps the end call button with force, grumbling, “Why the hell do we pay you half our paycheck every month if you’re just gonna let us freeze.”
He finds his flatmate curled up in his bed, blankets piled high.
“Piece of shit landlord says he can’t do anything till tomorrow. Don’t suppose you have any clue how we’re going to make it through the night?”
A mop of black hair pokes out from the nest. “We could always huddle for warmth. Two bodies sharing heat will be significantly warmer than each of us alone.”
“You sure? You’re the one with a personal space issue.”
If he could see Dream’s eyes, he’d be shot a withering glare. “Would I have suggested it were it not acceptable to me?”
“Point taken,” Hob shrugs as he barges into the room. “Open up, I’m coming in!”
Dream scoots over and pulls the blankets aside. For a while they lay there, stock still until Hob starts to wiggle.
“What are you doing?” Dream asks.
“Taking my jeans off.” He can feel Dream’s stare. “What? They’re uncomfortable and I don’t want to lie hear all night like this.” He manages to shove them down to his ankles, kicking them off and toward the end of the bed. “Don’t be such a prude, Dream.” He rolls over, his back pointed toward Dream. What he doesn’t reveal is the raging erection he has from being so close to the most attractive man he’s ever seen.
Dream lies flat on his back for a while, then discards his own jeans much in the same way as Hob, for much the same reason.
“Told ya,” Hob says. “Hey Dream?”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna hear a scary story? Bet I can make you scream.” Hob rolls back over toward him and breaks into a ridiculous tale that Dream is pretty sure he read once in a book meant for small children. He sighs dramatically as Hob gets to the reveal. He rolls over to face Hob, their noses merely inches apart.
“I think I can do better. That story was quite childish,” Dream says, smug.
“And how would you make me scream?” Hob asks, grin splitting his face.
Dream grabs at Hob’s waist, pulling him flush against his body and pressing his arousal to Hob’s. His hands crawl up the back of Hob’s shirt, kneading at the warm muscles that are hidden there.
“Dream?”
“Do you not want this? Have you not been craving my touch as I have craved yours?”
“Oh, I have. You’re serious?” Hob asks, stunned that such a beautiful creature could still want him after living together for an entire year.
Dream brushes his lips against Hob’s, hands dipping down to grab generous handfuls of Hob’s arse through his boxers.
“I have wanted you since the day we met,” he says, grinding his cock against Hob’s.
“Oh!” Hob moans, flinging his arms around Dream and searching for his waistband. “So have I…”
He manages to get into Dream’s briefs and around his cock. His hips buck as he feels the soft length of him, fingers dancing across his shaft.
“God you’re beautiful.”
“I should be saying this about you, Hob Gadling,” Dream purrs, slipping Hob’s boxers down to free his weeping cock.
Hob almost comes as Dream begins to pump his hand up and down his length, matching the rhythm of Hob’s hand on his own cock. For minutes they are silent, save for their heaving breaths and occasional moans that slip out.
“Dream! I’m gonna—" Hob wails and Dream stays his hand as Hob presses against him, covering him in his hot release. Hob gives him a few more pumps and then he is contributing to the mess between them, vision whiting out in bliss.
When he comes back to himself, he presses a sweet kiss to Hob’s lips.
“I think we’re going to need a clean blanket,” he rumbles. “But you’re welcome to huddle for warmth any time.”
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mara-xx217 · 3 years
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Pokes head
May I request Michael being a possessive daddy and fighting a killer who hurt his girlfriend ? It can be anyway you like 💙
Why of course you can~ This isn’t based in Dbd, but the normal world. Hope you don’t mind!
Possessive, Protective Mikey
You were like some sort of disease to Michael. Or, perhaps, a parasite was a better descriptor of how you affected him. You wormed your way into him, deep into his chest, right beside his cold, soulless heart. You made him… feel, regardless of what that actually meant, it was beyond unacceptable in his eyes. That warm, painful throbbing in his chest was more than distracting, it was nauseating, disturbing. Terrifying… In a sick, twisted, wrong way, you terrified the Shape of Haddonfield. Michael fucking Myers was absolutely terrified of a small, defenseless creature that was completely helpless against the evil and cruelty he wielded against the world. He should kill you a hundred thousand times over for this transgression! But… it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He only… feels more empty every time your cheeks are stained with tears. Cold. Dead. Michael would feel dead without you…
This isn’t the first time he’s caught someone hurting you. It’s happened many, many times over, and his reaction has ranged from blinded rage to searing hatred. Not just for the one harming you, but towards you, yourself. It was that lack of control that drove Michael insane. He couldn’t watch you 24/7, couldn’t always follow you around or know where you were at any given moment… It drove him fucking crazy, and he took that frustration out on not just the asshole unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with you, but onto you, as well.
But, even that was quickly losing its luster to him. Michael had thought that hurting you would bring him some sort of fulfillment, like it has always done in the past when he had hurt others. It never has, though. Sure, he’s lied to himself, trying desperately to convince himself that seeing you all small, all scared and teary-eyed brought him a measure of enjoyment, to have your blood on his hands, to have you groveling in terror before him- but it didn’t. It- He- Michael felt… not good, when that happened. You made him… stop to consider how his actions would affect you, and he hated that.
Michael despises that you’re a magnet for trouble. That you just can’t seem to stay the hell away from people that want to do you harm. Sure, he doesn’t mind killing them. Quite the opposite, in fact, he rather enjoys seeing them covered in their own blood, begging for their pathetic lives before he mercilessly snuffs them out. No, Michael hates that you get hurt in the first place. The only one that should ever have the right to put their hands on you was him! Him, and him alone. Anyone else would be destroyed.
Some wannabe serial killer punk had set his eyes on you. Luckily for you, Michael knew better than to leave you to your own devices, anymore. He caught the little bastard scoping out your home before you had any idea of the danger you were in. He’d make sure that, this time, he’d be in complete control of the situation. You won’t be hurt, but that idiot thinking that he can do as he pleases? He’s going to regret the day he was born…
Sitting in your kitchen, you drank what must be your fifth coffee of the night. Strange things were happening, and it left you unable and unwilling to sleep at night. Rustling outside your windows, the sound of someone possibly jimmying your doors and windows, looking for a possible way in… Muddy footprints on your porch and small, dead animals left on your door mat… It was becoming too much. You’re… pretty sure it wasn’t Michael. He did love to torment you, but this wasn't really his thing. He was much more… direct, with his approach to you. This… this was someone else…
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you rub your eyes, feeling them water involuntarily from how dry they were. Anxiously, you tap your fingers on the top of the counter, before sighing heavily and grabbing your coffee mug. You decided to make your way to the living room, thinking that some TV would help calm your nerves and get your mind off of things. Fuck, I’m exhausted… You thought bitterly as you crashed onto the couch, nearly spilling lukewarm coffee all over yourself.
Picking up the remote, you absentmindedly flipped through channels, not really wanting to watch anything. It was just something else to focus on, rather than the impending sense of dread that was washing over you. This feeling was one that you were well acquainted with: the feeling of being watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were slick with sweat. Slowly, you sit up, clumsily placing your mug on the table in front of you. The hairs on your entire body stood on end. Something’s not right here…
As you begin to rise off the couch, a firm hand pushes you back down into a sitting position. Your heart jumped up into your throat. You’re very familiar with Michael’s hands, and the one still gripping your shoulder was much, much smaller than his… Short, shaky breaths escaped through your clenched teeth. Fuck..! Oh shit- Oh my God no no no-! You don’t dare to move, only stare straight ahead at nothing as your mind runs wild with possibilities. Who the hell is it?! How did they get in?! Why me?! Where the fuck is Michael when I fucking need him?!?
The intruder sucks in a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something, but instead yelps in surprise as he’s ripped away from you suddenly and violently. You gasp, shooting up and scrambling across the room, back peddling into an opposing corner. Curling in on yourself, you crumple onto the floor, watching the brutality unfolding before you through the cracks of your fingers.
Michael had thrown the intruder back, sending him crashing into a mostly bare bookshelf, breaking most of the shelves along with it. You cringe and jump, feeling your insides twist and revolt against you. Michael drops to the floor, straddling the winded, smaller man as he desperately tries to fight back. Vainly. It was laughable, really. The idiot didn’t stand a chance against the human incarnation of evil, itself.
Michael briefly debated on playing with his food. There was something about seeing them crawl and beg that really set him off, but when he glanced at you over his shoulder, in the fetal position and hyperventilating, he actually decided against it. It was getting under his skin seeing you like this, and the quicker this is… inconvenience is dealt with, the quicker things will be back to normal. Well, to Michael’s fucked up definition of the word “normal”, that is.
With a quick stab to the back of his neck, the intruder was killed. Normally, Michael would have painted the walls with this creep’s blood, but he decided that it would be too much of a pain in the ass to clean up. With a flick of his wrist, Michael twists and pulls out the blade, wiping the excess blood onto the back of his victim’s shirt. He looks back over to you, and sees you stiffen. His… Huh. His chest actually hurts…
With a heavy sigh, he stands, stepping over the dead body as he makes his way over to you. A major part of you was beyond terrified. Is he gonna hurt me..? Oh- Oh God..! I’m gonna- I’m- I’m gonna..! You were trembling, shaking so hard that your teeth were actually chattering audibly. Michael’s eye twitched. He was conflicted: one part of him loved that you were this scared of him, as you should be, but the other… the other hated it. He- Well, he wanted… something, but he just didn’t know what. Fingers twitching, he reached out to you, struggling to ignore how you froze as he slowly approached you.
You really thought that he was going to grab you by the hair and drag you off to the bedroom, so when his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your head, moving the hair from your face, you were, well… at a bit of a loss. Michael has never, ever been that gentle while touching you. Ever. You raise your head slightly, just enough so that you could see him. He still had that damn mask on, of course, and his body language hardly betrayed what he was thinking or feeling, but- You couldn’t deny that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.
He slowly crouches in front of you, treating you as though you're some kind of animal that will either bolt at the slightest movement or go for his jugular, or something like that. You don’t move or speak, unsure of what he was doing. When he placed his hand where that stalker touched you, gently- carefully squeezing your shoulder as though you were made of glass, you… you relaxed.
You could tell that he was struggling to be gentle, with how his fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pressure of his fingertips varied. You looked up to him, then down at his chest as an odd warmth spread through your cheeks. Michael was extremely possessive over you. He hated it when you interacted with anyone else, especially other men. But, right now, even though another man had touched you, he wasn’t flying off the handle like he usually did. He was still extraordinarily pissed off that he had given the bastard just enough time to physically touch you, but it was remedied.
He was fucking dead, and you were still here. You were his and his alone. That wasn’t called into question. There was no dispute. Michael Myers is the only person that is ever allowed to touch you. You’ve come to accept this, and slowly but surely, you’re even beginning to enjoy his touch. As sick and messed up as it was, you’ve started to develop feelings for him, despite the fact that he made your life a living hell. If anything, you knew that no one would hurt you ever again. No one, except for him.
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1kook · 3 years
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skirt chasers — drabble iv
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THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf 
NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3
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He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he��s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…” 
 Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane. 
 Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot. 
He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form. 
It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds. 
They were his favorite. 
Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this. 
God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month. 
But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity. 
As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings. 
He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream. 
But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. 
Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping. 
He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since! 
Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind. 
So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck. 
Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!
It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching. 
Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go. 
He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen. 
But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins. 
He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?” 
“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world. 
You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.” 
He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.” 
You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here. 
“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action. 
“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes. 
“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high. 
You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time. 
Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down. 
You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.” 
Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now. 
He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”
You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly. 
A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist. 
“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy. 
Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can. 
And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck. 
“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”
He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer. 
“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question. 
You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. 
“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.” 
You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides. 
A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.  
He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. ��Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry. 
“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes. 
As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be. 
Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest. 
He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly. 
Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?” 
He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign. 
He strikes while the iron is still hot. 
It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion. 
Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort. 
“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months. 
However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it. 
Kinda. 
Probably. 
Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over. 
He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“
“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing. 
“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”
“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders. 
If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off. 
And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy. 
“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face. 
The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing. 
Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting. 
(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.) 
One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you. 
He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone. 
Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more. 
You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs. 
Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it. 
And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him. 
It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top. 
Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror. 
He’s never seen you like this before. 
Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life. 
He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips. 
And then something unforgivable happens. 
Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information. 
Your hand. 
The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness. 
Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face. 
He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant. 
Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.” 
It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.” 
You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”
“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him. 
“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.
A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him. 
Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip. 
You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now. 
The sympathy doesn’t last long.  
Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams. 
Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand. 
But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this. 
“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches. 
There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are. 
Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out. 
“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him. 
You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead. 
It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.” 
He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands. 
“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!) 
Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”
Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead. 
“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises. 
It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock. 
Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon. 
He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time. 
When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.” 
A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago. 
His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap. 
There was never a choice.
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turtle-steverogers · 3 years
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Pre serum Steve once fell of a balcony and Bucky caught him. Bucky reminds him every chance he gets.
anon, you have inspired me... i saw this. thought "YES", then scurried to my google drive
and so here is a fic, wholly based on this ask
-
“Steve, what the hell are you doing?”
Steve twists around from where he’s perched on the fire escape rail, back against the cool brick wall of their shitty tenement. It’s nearly April and the weather’s getting warmer, a soft breeze keeping it just cool enough for long pants. Steve has always preferred warmer weather, though, and he thought he’d take advantage of the first truly nice day that Spring. His sketchbook lies open on his lap, propped against his knee. A light, but detailed sketch of the other tenement buildings that spanned out in front of him fills the page.
“Drawing,” Steve says, glancing at Bucky where his head is poking out the window. He looks concerned and his eyes keep flicking to where Steve’s holding himself stable with his free leg. “Why are you already home? What time is it?”
Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and Steve wants to stick his thumb on the little divot to smooth it out. He always thought Bucky would get a permanent wrinkle there if he kept frowning so much.
“Nearly 6:00,” Bucky says, and Steve realizes he must have let time get away from him. That tends to happen, when he draws, his mind blessedly quiet for a few hours as he loses himself in the methodical scratch of his charcoal pencils. Still, he had gotten home from his work restocking shelves at the local grocer around 3:00. He didn’t think it had been that long.
“Oh,” he says.
Bucky climbs out onto the escape. He’s wearing his work clothes still-- an oily white shirt tucked into heavy denim pants. His hair's hanging down in his eyes. Steve knows he’ll want him to cut it soon.
He wants to reach out to him, but he can’t. Not out here where anyone could see. It’s torture, not being able to touch anywhere but in the confines of their bed, hidden under the covers where prying eyes can’t strip away their privacy-- their God given right to love each other as wholly as human nature could allow. Steve purses his lips and forces himself to look back down at his sketch.
“I don’t like you sitting up there,” Bucky says.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you’re afraid of heights doesn’t mean that everyone else is, Buck. Besides, we’re only three stories up.”
Bucky huffs, stepping closer. “That’s still far,” he says. “You fall, you’ll splatter all over the sidewalk and scar Miss Maggie downstairs for life. I’d have to pay for her heart failure and your funeral.”
Steve snorts and closes his sketchbook, thoroughly distracted now. The sun’s starting to set anyway, and it’s bound to get cold soon.
“You’re so dramatic,” Steve says. “I’m holding myself up just fine. See? I can even reach for my other charcoals and there ain’t no problem.”
To prove himself, Steve closes his sketchbook and tosses it onto the fire escape, sticking the charcoal he was using in the binding. He twists around after that and leans over to grab another pencil from where he’d left his spares on a ledge to his right, his thigh muscles flexing as he holds himself in place. The pencils are farther away than he last remembers them, though, because he feels himself reaching further and further until his balance is tipping and he’s tumbling over the side.
“Stevie!” Bucky’s frantic voice shouts, but Steve can barely hear him, too busy gasping in surprise.
There’s a suspended moment of terror as the world seems to go quiet, his ears ringing in alarm as he feels himself starting to fall and oh god, Bucky was right, he really shouldn’t have tried to reach out for his pencils and now he really was going to fall to his death and Miss Maggie was going to see him break his neck on the sidewalk or he’ll kill an alleycat on impact or--
--A strong hand closes around his bicep, catching him before he can fully go over the side of the fire escape. He’s shaking with adrenaline as Bucky lifts him back to safety. He’s speaking, Steve realizes belatedly.
“--Such a fucking idiot, I swear to god, you’re gonna be the death of me, Rogers.”
“You say that, like, once a week,” Steve says weakly, and he notices then that he’s shaking. His teeth are chattering, adrenaline coursing through him. He must look as freaked out as he feels, because Bucky takes one look at his face and softens.
He glances around, then braces a hand on the back of Steve’s neck, grounding him. A moment later, Steve is being pulled into his chest. He’s sweaty and smells like the docks, but Steve presses closer, inhaling deeply in time with Bucky.
“You okay, kid?” Bucky asks.
Steve nods against his chest, hiding. “Sorry. Spooked.”
“I don’t blame you,” Bucky says, pulling away after sneaking a soft kiss on Steve’s head. He swoops down to collect Steve’s sketchbook. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” He straightens and points an accusing finger at Steve. “I told you so, by the way.”
Steve just rolls his eyes.
-
“No! Not without you!”
“Aw, hell…”
Steve’s going to die.
He’s thought that a lot, in his 25 years of life. But now, as he sizes up the impossible jump between him and Bucky, he really truly believes it.
Bucky made it across, if only barely, and Steve wishes he would just go. There’s a deep pain in his eyes now-- one Steve noticed as soon as he lifted Bucky off that goddamn experiment table. If anyone deserves to get out of this fiery hell, it’s him. But Steve knows that he really won’t leave without him. He’d damn himself to die by the burning hands of war right alongside Steve.
Steve knows this, because he would do the same.
He takes the jump running, giving himself one moment to falter before he’s soaring through the air. It burns, and he knows he’s breathing in so much smoke. Fire licks at his heels and singes his clothes, melting the soles of his boots and mottling his skin.
It feels like he’s caught in midair, flying forever without falling as the other side gets closer and closer and holy shit, he’s going to make it-- he’s really going to--
He manages to grab hold of the railing on the other side, screaming as it breaks and bends, leaving him dangling. The metal is smoltering and he gasps, letting go on instinct as it burns the skin of his palms and shit, he’s such an idiot, but before he can fall, Bucky’s leaning over and grabbing him by the forearm.
He hauls him up onto the platform and they collapse onto the ground, panting as they claw at each other, needing something tangible-- real-- to keep them sane and then they’re kissing, teeth clacking together and noses bumping. Bucky’s sobbing, Steve notices and he pulls back to reassure him, only to realize he’s doing the same. They kiss until the air in their lungs turns to ash and they pull away to breathe, foreheads resting together.
“You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Bucky pants.
“Fuck you,” Steve answers. He kisses him again, hungry for more-- yearning to crawl under Bucky’s skin and hide there. “Thanks for catching me.” And it’s horribly insufficient. There’s so much to say to each other, so many bases to cover and things that can’t go unsaid, but Bucky must understand, because he guides Steve’s head down to his chest. A position Steve never thought he’d have the privilege of falling into again.
“Always gonna catch you,” he says. It’s quiet for a long time, nothing but their heavy breathing and the roaring fire to fill the spaces between them. Steve opens his mouth to say something; anything. He needs to ask if Bucky’s okay-- what they were doing to him-- and he knows Bucky has questions. Ones that he deserves answers to more than anyone, but the words get caught in his throat. It doesn’t matter, though, because Bucky laughs wetly. “Like-- like that fuckin’ time you almost fell off the fire escape and--”
Steve groans, shoving at Bucky before gathering him close and breathing him in, because if Bucky can find it in him to tease, then things have to be okay.
“You ain’t ever letting that go, are you?”
“Never.”
-
thanks for reading, chiefs
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bemylord · 3 years
Text
ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏxɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ
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↳ synopsis: because of the intoxicating smell, megumi's heat comes early, as if by chance - the pills are out and he should please himself. when he just starts to relax, he feels someone else's hands on his hips.
↳ theme: au + omegaverse.
↳ warnings: aged up, unprotected sex, non-canonical behavior, marking, oral, toy [dildo], true couple [?], gagging, spank [once], anal, first time, heat. + sukuna being soft.
↳ word counter: 2.9k
↳ level description: i have bestowed curses the unusual phenomenon of being able to conceal a scent. also, to emit a scent when the owner of the body wants to. i have endowed omegas and alphas with various features, for example: omega [not everyone] could purr, plus the alpha fangs for the tag.
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the heat practically had come out of sudden - megumi hates those days when he's a weak, pliable omega and he has no alpha. such a destitute, defenseless little boy who is so desperate to please himself.
'when you're in the heat, better not leave the house. alphas can sense heathens omegas.' his teacher, gojou satoru, have warned him in the first grade when he had started to smell like an omega. he accepted his destiny quickly by being surrounded by alphas - yuuji, gojou, nanami, and that mocking king which is the alpha, although for years of being the king of curses he had learned to harbor a scent within himself, radiating only during battles.
not that megumi was interested in the king, just he has never smell his fragrance. does the curse have one? never mind, sukuna will never gonna be the one whom megumi will think in the heat.
yuuji always reminds his friend he or sukuna won't touch him in the heat. they're just being friends, however, is hard for megumi to disobeying his friend, over a voice. the husky and low voice of alpha can shut the omega without an eye contact - damnable omega essence.
megumi once purred when yuuji complimented his outfit, the gorgeous linen white shirt and black pants, the simple, but it was the effective one. itadori restrained sukuna for letting out the dirty joke about how malleable the omega was, by emitting a kind of snarl.
'sorry, megumi-san, i needed to calm down sukuna.'
damnable omega essence.
fushiguro megumi is nineteen and he had two heats: the first one he had after three months of turning eighteen. the heat was so exhausted - he forgot to buy pills, laying on the bed with the dripping hole.
for thesecond heat, he bought the dildo to please himself, yet didn't use the toy due to the reason he wasn't certain if he should. but the pill to loosen the heat has softened the hazy mind and the smell has gone down a bit.
but for today's abrupt appearance his smell he wasn't ready: he was training with yuuji, using some techniques and learning new ones with help of the teacher, the overwhelming heat caught him off guard when he could smell the unknowing fragrance - cognac. some alpha made him feel a false heat.
'i-i'm sorry, sensei, c-can i leave?'
the matured man holds back his scent and voice, pointing to the door as a sign he may leave the room. silly coincidence. as fast as he can, megumi had run to his room, locked the door for the sake of authenticity. he was run out of pills but leaving the room is too dangerous for him, if he had at least a mark from his alpha it wouldn't less dangerous.
the heat practically had come out of sudden - that weird and unusual scent, he had never smell anything stronger than that fragrance: as embarrassing as it may be, it's overwhelming, filling megumi's clarity of mind with the thought that he might be filled with the owner of the scent.
the thought to grab the toy had come suddenly, when the heat is starting to raise the temperature of the body, feeling as his hole starts to drip, becoming a mess. the period was supposed to start in a week, not earlier.
whom belonged that scent? a new student?
the toy has practically the same color as his hair, the medium length - at least he thinks it's the medium. the glans of his cock have a pink-peached color, as omegas should, their dick is much smaller than alpha's, on this basis, it perfectly fits in his palm as he masturbated a couple of times in the heat.
megumi doesn't like to jerk his cock a lot: better say, he isn't interested in doing it. he released himself when the heat is potent on the mind, hazy him to the point when he unconsciously jerks his oozing dick, cumming pretty much immediately.
few seconds of stroking the base as the liquid ends up on the sheet - it's enough for him for a couple of hours before it happens again. unwittingly, he put one finger in the oozing hole, almost jumped on the bed as he felt the light pain in the ass.
now, the tip of the toy in the hole as megumi gives himself a minute to adjust, he hisses as continuing the dildo goes deeper into the hole, stretching hardly pristine walls, not counting a finger. the omega squints, through the sore happy he's stretching himself prior to feel the real dick. he put all dick to the balls, hardly standing on his knees.
megumi attempts to focus on the thought is someone's else dick, imagining the random alpha, the random face as he fucks himself. he pulled out the dildo to the head, inching slowly to the base, getting used to the size.
‘gumi was on the knees on the bed, his chest being practically buried on the sheet as his ass on the air, suppressing intermittent moans with a pillow, as he squeezes the dildo when he feels as heat is getting intense.
the hairline is coated with drops of sweet as he pulled out the toy, he grips his jaw as being empty without a source of at least some pleasure. it's wrong, it's embarassed but the worst - 'gumi can't handle the feeling of fullness.
as he reaches for the toy, he feels someone’s hands on his hips. he turned his head, seeing sukuna behind him.
'sukuna?!' he screamed the name, tries to cover his naked body with his hands. 'get out immediately!'
the curse laughs, stopping the sorcerer from squirming by holding his hips, keeping the oozing ass in the air. the omega is trying to cover the hole, trying to coping with the smell of his heat, trying not to be the obedient for him.
'you smell so good in your heat, 'gumi-gumi, come on, i know you want my dick in your ass.'
'you ain't an alpha, suk-'
before he could finish the thought, he smelled that fragrance again - the cognac. the stupefying, intoxicating aroma of the mind. the virgin mind is hazed, dazzed by the hell alpha - not him. anyone but not him.
'for years i've learned how to harbor a scent, boy.'
sukuna spreaded the butt cheeks apart a little bit to ogle as how the omega's period made his hole to be moist. megumi tighten the sheet into the whitened fists, endeavoring to think about something else, something about the sorcerer things: killing the curse, no. not now when the king of curses, being the bloody alpha, staring at his untouched body.
's-sukuna..'
megumi's voice is broken, has lost the breath, puffing when sukuna is circling around the hole with one finger. sukuna has spreaded the aroma one more time, staring at the red omega's face as he's trying to struggle with his wishes. megumi is clenching his fists, striving to dodge his claws, crawling, barely crawling forward towards cushions. a pitiful travesty, as sad it is.
sukuna did a tsk, returning the boy in the previous position, yet spanked his butt as a warning sign. 'gumi shrunked at the slight pain but feel as the king instantly rubbing the place he has hitted.
the omega turns head to see sukuna, meeting his gaze immediately looking over his body: the tattoed body is seemed to become bigger since the last encounter. although, it's because of self-inflicted, as sukuna uses his friend's body. but it seems like he's bigger.
'megumi, suck my cock properly, first, and maybe i’ll lick your dripping hole.'
'no way, i wo-'
the king didn't let megumi to end the sentences, flipping omega's body on his back, bringing his body closer as he faces with sukuna's dick. megumi is overly horny to say no, and, how could he deny if a thick, dripping cock is in front of his face?
'when i'm reborn into my initial physique,' sukuna caresses megumi's cheeks. 'i'll surprise you, 'gumi.'
megumi watches as the precum rests on the glans, gasping at the excitement has came over him. with a hesitant movements, he wrapped one palm around the base, feeling the hot, thick cock, wondering if it will fit in his mouth.
as the alpha's dick was a few millimeters from megumi's lips, the last one raised his head, staring into the frantic and anticipatory gaze. omega open the mouth a bit as the head has touched his lips, not entering the glans inside yet lick the precum, tasting the liquid.
he kisses the top, checking the durability of the king, put the dick in the wet mouth, circling the outlining of the head with a tongue. sukuna chuckles watching as megumi making clumsy motions with his hand on the cock, moving his head forward to meet his pubis with a nose.
'god, boy, you suck the toy? so inept, but trying to oblige.'
the omega furrows as if not the member, he would contradict sukuna, responding he isn't trying to oblige him, yet gathering experience.
'you're disgusting, sukuna.'
'but i don't see you pushing me away.'
megumi didn't see fit to reply to the caustic expression, taking the cock in the mouth, sucking it property, maybe, the king will do the promise. it's humiliating - the one who needs to be exorced is not fucking his mouth, makes fists of his shaggy hair, thrusting the head deeper on the sizeable cock.
the omega doesn't pushing him away for the one reason - he's in heat, after all. he's horny and pliable of that. just one night - one. damn. it. night.
'relax your throat, baby boy.'
the name he named megumi, he pronounced somehow mildly, as he tries to do so. the tip with every thrust is touching megumi's throat, forcing fushiguro's eyes fill with tears as the head grazes the uvula.
'such a good cock sucker you are, gumi.' sukuna stares as the tears falling directly onto reddened cheeks, noticing his hard cock that hasn't been touched yet. 'stroke your dick.'
the commanding sukuna's tone didn't let a chance to megumi to say no: he reached one palm to his pink cock, making a fast strokes, anticipating to cum soon.
'wanna cum? my baby wanna cum yet? no, gumi, you can't.' megumi put his hands on sukuna's, forcing him to release his fists and movements.
'sukuna,' said omega when he put the dick out of his drooling mouth: his saliva runs down his chin, although he does nothing to remove it. 'i want something more, sukuna.'
he pressed a thank-you kiss on the top, as a token of appreciation.
'want is it? pick right words.'
he turned his body for sukuna, so the tattoed one will see how messy he has become.
'lick my hole, king. please, i need it.'
later, he will hate himself for his pathetic, miserable act, but right now he needs his tongue. just as pathetic. he hates being so pliable and soft underneath sukuna's pads, again, does nothing to stop him. hates to purr like a cat as the king caresses his butt, touching with one finger his hole.
sukuna kisses the area around the mess as his ears hearing a docile purr as he kisses the hole. he licks the excretion track, running the tongue over the hole which cause the owner of the body gasps, gulping greedily at the air.
sukuna is amazed megumi called him a king, not a dickhead, to which he affectionately licks his trickling hole. the kind rubbing gumi's hips, attempting not to hurt the boy's delicate skin with claws. he tries his best of spreading the love which is foreign to him.
sukuna pulled away from the hole, kissed it one more, before press a finger on the oozing clutter. megumi's shivered, as felt curse's long finger inside him, feeling as sukuna moving slow but deep, letting him to adjust at the new feeling.
the curse smoothly expands the walls and all megumi can think about it's how he's obedient allows the satan in a new guise fucks his ass, allows sukuna to touch him.
'i'm gonna add one finger.'
gumi practically closed his legs by the astounding pleasure sukuna puts him: it's so comfortable, warm, and good. he squeeezed fingers, shutting his eyes, adjusting to accept his future cock.
as megumi once started to rock his body against sukuna's fingers, he pulled them out, spat on his palm to stroke the dick repeatedly.
'lie on your back, megumi.' fushiguro did as he was told, feeling the sheet underneath his back, watching solely into sukuna's eyes: malice and aggresive sigh flew away as sort of careful eyes are watching at his directly. 'you can kiss me, little boy.'
if he can, he'd jump off the bed at the name sukuna has given him, cups the curse's face in his small palms, pulling him towards in a love, tender, romantic kiss as if they were lovebirds.
megumi purred when his lover take an initiative by pulling a tongue into his mouth, playing with the tongue of the boy, feeling the residue of his cock on the omega's muscle. he warned him he'll go inside by throwing on his broad shoulder his legs, distracting himself from the kiss.
megumi purred when his lover take an initiative by pulling a tongue into his mouth, playing with the tongue of the boy, feeling the residue of his cock on the omega's muscle. he warned him he'll go inside by throwing on his broad shoulder his legs, distracting himself from the kiss.
the king has entered the tip as megumi clenched the glans, yet released, becoming accustomed to being full. megumi tugged on the alpha's biceps, drawing on the inked skin fuzzy patterns.
'good boy, megumi. you're taking my cock so well, that i'm starting to think to make an exclusion and do a knot inside you.'
the omega clinched the dick, gasps as he heard the last words.
'not now, at least. when i'll take over this little world.'
the walls of the anus pleasantly embrace the foreign body, squeezing and caressing, making the king even more arrogant - he accelerates his pace, driving his cock inside. megumi shuddered as the tip of his cock reached his prostate.
'did i hit that spot, little boy?'
no strength to nod, only to clench his forearms, moaning precipitously. sukuna stares at the little boy more than he should: his forehead is covered with sweat, his cheeks are red hot and sukuna can't deny but kisses his lips, hitting with every thrust a lump of nerves whilst fushiguro gives himself to his partner, being on the verge of - the sweet moment is about to come.
'you're swallowing me, kitten.'
'sukuna, please, i'm gonna.. soon.. mm~'
megumi arches the back and as he almost grabbed his cock to pour out his sperm, sukuna's hand intercepted the small, towards to his hand, cock making quick movements.
sukuna also felt as the little boy cum by milking his balls, narrowing the walls to an outrage that the alpha has to come out with a growl, biting his neck to the blood, leaving a mark, but not mixing fragrances.
both with their breath hitched, trying to recover, losing themselves in each other's arms. as for megumi, he was overwhemled with an orgasm for a couple of hours whilst sukuna could fuck and fuck even the knot until he'll make a heir.
'you should leave, sukuna. what if itadori will.. you know.. he's alpha too.'
'he won't dare to touch my omega. no one in the world will never hurt you.'
'don't say if you don't mean it.'
he smack his lips against omega's, wiping megumi's drops of sweet, kissed the forehead pulling away.
'after all, i'm - the one who started your heat.'
* * *
after a week of such nocturnal encounters, megumi returned to class again. itadori remembered nothing, [thanks to sukuna, the scratches and hickeys were disappearing].
after classes on the second day of studying, satoru asked him to stay after the training.
'megumi-kun, are you okay? don't think anything of it, i'm asking about..'
'i'm well, if.. yes, i'm fine, sensei, thank you.' megumi interrupted his teacher, answering before he could finish. 'i think i'm gonna rest in my room, sensei.'
'he won't dare to touch my omega, right? did he fuck you good, gumi-gumi? that's your name?'
megumi uttered a low mooing, wanted to answer but couldn't: his eyes widened in a fear, inhaling the scent of a teacher.
'he didn't tell you about me? not that i was spying on you, just.. your smell..'
gojo walks closer to his student, approaching his face towards fushiguro.
'he was good, right? i'm just curious, who will fuck you better in your next heat?'
(─‿‿─)♡
it's is a little smaller than i expected, but the sequel will obviously be bigger. if you'll like it.
↳ main game menu.
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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years
Note
Your so great at writing omg- so could you do a part two of the yandere techno and philza?
And other idea for a different request!
Maybe ghostbur? 👀 With florist reader? And someone burned down there shop so they are very upset so ghostbur comforts them and helps build then a new one?
Again please take as long as you need.
- Your beloved Moosh ( platonically! :3)
Moosh, darling! Hello! How are you doing today? Part two of the yandere Tech and Phil chapter is up! Thank you for your requests, your ideas are just chefs kiss!
This is a tad bit short. I really really have to get out of the habit of writing 10k+ stories, because then I have no energy to write the other requests that have been waiting for a while <3
Also. This turned out to be angstier than I had hoped...
TW: Depression, emotion repression, large mentions of past Wilbur x Reader
Dead Blue Flowers (C!Ghostbur x GN!Depressed!Reader)
How...? How did this happen?
You tried so hard to remain neutral in this war, even going as far as to avoid telling people your opinions on things. Wasn't raising your tax weekly back when Schlatt was in control enough?
You just gave people flowers, for god's sake! Why did they have to burn the shop to nothing but cinders?!
Standing in front of the charred frame of your shop that had once been your prized possession. Every dollar you had raised, every smile that appeared on the faces of people you gave flowers to... You remembered the genuine smile on Wilbur's face when he gave you this plot of land to build whatever store you wanted...
Now it was all ashes that slipped through the cracks between your fingers...
"(Y/n)?" An echoing and airy voice echoed through your ears and you glanced up slightly to see a pair of shoes levitating a few inches off the ground, "What happened to your shop- Oh, you're crying, here. Take some blue. Calm yourself."
Crying?
While the levitating figure dug around, trying to find this so-called blue, you rose your hands up and touched your cheeks to find them slightly damp. When you pulled your hands away, a small cold pouch of blue dye was carefully placed in your hands, causing a small shiver to crawl down your spine, "Thanks, Bur..." You whispered softly, trying to smile to calm him down, but you just found your eyes welling up with more tears, so you put your head down in an attempt to hide them from your ghost friend.
"Did it not work? Perhaps that blue was broken..." Ghostbur reached into his small bag with his dye-stained fingers, digging around for a pouch of dye that wasn't 'broken'. You could feel a faint bit of panic in his voice as he mumbled about how blue always worked for him, so he didn't know why it wasn't working for you.
"No, Bur... It's just... I don't know what to do. My shop is gone. It was my pride and joy. Now I don't have anything left..." You murmured, holding the, now two, dye-filled packages in your cupped hands, "Even the cornflower seeds I used to make the blue flowers I gave you... They're nothing now... His mem- I'm nothing now..."
Ghostbur was panicking and the blue clutched in his hands was evident of that, "No, no! Don't say things like that! Come, come-" He gave a few coughs, his negative emotions seeming to affect him physically as well as emotionally.
You slowly pushed yourself up into a standing position, rubbing your eyes with your sleeves as your fingertips were tainted with dye. While you didn't feel much happier, despite Ghostbur's best efforts, you knew that emotionally he couldn't handle your sadness, "Thanks, Bur. I do feel much happier thanks to your blue. I'm gonna head home now." You gave him your best smile, watching as the sweater-wearing spirit studied your eyes to see if you were lying.
"Oh, okay!" The ghost perked up slightly, but his smile looked a tad bit hollow in your eyes. Guess you were in no place to judge, you did just give your best friend a smile to get him to stop panicking... Was this emotion suppression? Probably. Yeah. Ah well... As long as he's happy now. "I'm gonna go see Phil now, maybe you should come to visit sometime soon. He makes really good tea and biscuits."
"Yeah... I'll hop by his place sometime soon." You gave him the empty promise, knowing very well you didn't want anything to do with social interactions for quite a while until you found something else to put your time towards.
Over the next few days, Ghostbur would wait outside your house for you to come out and walk with you to your flower shop, but he then began to realize that you had nothing to walk to. Hell, you didn't have a reason to leave your house anymore... There was no point in coming outside. After standing under the awning above your front door for a few moments, he got an idea in his head, so he set off towards the house of Alivebur's father.
"Phiiiiiil?" He called softly, opening the front door to see the injured avian sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace, "Ah, Philza! Just the man I wanted to see!"
"Hey mate," The blond greeted softly, setting his cup of tea down on the table before getting up to properly interact with the ghost of his son, "What do ya' need from me?"
For a few seconds, hesitance filled Ghostbur's veins. He hadn't completely thought through this idea and didn't even know how you or Phil would react to it, "My ange- best friend, (Y/n)... Well, they were very very important to Alivebur, and I still have many happy memories of them... But they aren't happy now because someone burnt down their flower shop... They haven't left their house in a few days, and I'm getting a really bad feeling, Phil!" Despite the fact that a pouch of blue was tightly grasped in his hands, the ghost didn't seem to be feeling any calmer, ultimately chalking it up to the flowers he had made the dye out of must've been from a bad place.
Philza grabbed onto the ghost of his son, giving a faint hiss of pain at the icy buzz that attacked his palms, but ignored it and kept his hands on his son's shoulders. Or what was left of the son he killed, "Wil- Ghostbur. Calm down. I want you to go visit them and make sure they're still okay-"
"But I think they'll only be okay if their shop is built! I want to rebuild it for them!" Ghostbur whined softly, not exactly understanding why he felt so strongly towards you, "Alivebur really really cared about them, which means I care about them. And they're sad, even with the blue I gave them..."
Phil pursed his lips together, trying to keep quiet about exactly why Wilbur cared about you so much, "Okay, okay... I want you to go visit them and find the blueprints of their shop... If-If you can't, then I'm sure we can build something similar... Just please, make sure they're alive, eating and taking care of themselves..."
"Alive? Of course they're alive- right? right, Phil?" Ghostbur hiccuped slightly, bringing up his dye-stained fingers to his mouth in shock when the avian hesitated, "Phil?"
"Just, go check on them Wil... Please."
Without another word, the ghost hurried out the door and looked up at the rapidly darkening sky, as he floated towards the person his alive self adored so greatly. "(Y/n)... Why did Alivebur care for you so much? Why did he want you in his life so bad?" When the transparent male arrived at your door, he hurriedly pounded his fists on the door before pressing himself against it to hide under the awning as rain began to sprinkle down from the sky, "(Y/n)! Please, it's raining!" He cried, not wanting to melt.
There was a few seconds of silence before there was a rushing sound of footsteps coming from the inside of the house. Before the ghost could react, the door flew open, causing him to tumble onto the floor inside the house, "Bur! You should've checked the weather!"
He looked up at his saviour... And gave the softest smile he's ever worn. Even it had only been a few days, he began to realize just how much you meant to him as well, not just Alivebur. You were a guardian angel... A saviour from reality...
"Y-yeah, I know..." You murmured, trying to flatten down your unbrushed hair before shrinking away from your friend's gaze and into your oversized sweater that had once been Wilbur's, "I haven't really bothered to... Uhm... manage my appearance..."
"No worries, angel..." He blurted out, causing you to flinch as you stared at him. He didn't even know why he called you that to be completely honest, but he pushed himself off of your floor and dusted himself free of invisible dust, "Why haven't you been coming outside? I've been waiting outside for you every day... Phil was also worried about you losing a life in here alone!"
Pursing your lips together, you couldn't help but avoid the gaze of the ghost as you shut the door, "Sorry Bur, I've just been really tired..." You gave him a tired smile, but this time it didn't work on the poor ghost.
"I- I uhm... I know I'm forgetful, I know I'm an amnesiac, but I still feel this... I still feel things, and I try my best to make sure no one else feels it... But it's not working for helping you." He nervously grabbed onto a pouch of blue in his messenger bag, gritting his teeth together for a moment, "I figured out why that shop means so much to you... It's because it was a gift from Alivebur... Your lover... And now you feel like you have nothing left to hold his memory."
He watched as your eyes went wide and beginning to fill with tears before he went to his bag, going to grab some blue for you, but he paused upon seeing something else. A cornflower, one that never got turned into a dye, but it was withered and dead from being in the bag for so long, "Wil-Gho... Bur..." You hiccuped, trying to form words to create an apology, but your throat felt like it was tied in knots.
"That's also why you call me Bur... Because you don't want to accept that Aliv-... Wilbur... Is now a ghost..." He walked closer to you and put his hand on your arms, thankfully you were wearing a sweater to prevent frostbite from attacking your skin, "And that's okay! It's okay, (Y/n), you loved him... And he loved you, which means I love you... but I know you need time to cope with Al- Wilbur's... Death..." He carefully reached up and took your wrist, bringing your hand up into view so he could press the dead cold cornflower into your palm, "Until then, I'll stay by your side as your best friend..."
You slowly reached up and put your hand against his cheek, even though the contact burned your fingertips and he hardly felt solid... He was there... "Thank you... Ghostbur." You lowered your hand and smiled down at the dead flower in your palm.
"Now, come on, let's get you cleaned up! Me and Phil will help you rebuild your flower shop... When the rain lets up of course!"
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ohworm-writes · 3 years
Note
Worm?! lol. Hiii, I’m new here. Could I please request some head canons for sniper mask (from high rise invasion) with a (preferably) male s/o? (As long as you’re comfortable with it.) I haven’t found any for males sadly. Hope you have a good day! Thanks sm.
Tenkuu Shinpan/High-Rise Invasion: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Scenario
high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist
‼ Sniper Mask Relationship Headcanons with a Male S/o ‼
Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayuko Nise, Kuon Shinzaki
Warnings: gun mention, violence mention, cursing, blood mention
a/n - i wanted to add a lot of detail since you said there weren't any male readers, so i apologize that it took so long. i also have another sniper mask scenario that should come out soon! enjoy!
content below the cut!
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coming to the high rise world was VERY unexpected for you
one second you're about to take a nap, right at the brink of sleep
the BOOM
you're on top of a building!
oh yeah, and there are murderers in masks right on your tail
not the afternoon you wanted, but it was the afternoon you got
you had been running from several masks, three of them right on your tail
you had been backed up near the edge of a building, the three of them circling yours you sat against the ground
when one of them slumped to the ground, dead
at first, you were confused, did he pass out maybe?
but then you saw blood and the other two dropping to the ground
no, yeah, they were all dead
you looked around for who could have done it
only to be met with another mask, a rifle at his side
you would have thought you were going to die if it weren't for the 3 girls by his side
why were 3 high school girls with one of the same kind of people that had tried to murder you?????
"Oh my god! Are you okay, sir?" A dark-haired girl ran forward and knelt down in front of you. You backed away from her, fear still coursing through you.
Your eyes landed on the masked man a few feet behind them, pointing a shaky finger towards him. "You! Why aren't you hurting us?" He stood up straight as all attention went to him, stuttering as the girl in front of you offered you a small smile.
"He won't hurt you, he'll only kill other masks, I promise!" You we're still skeptical of the group but decided it would be better than being stuck out here all alone. Silently, you took the girl's hand, letting her introduce you to the others.
When you were set in front of the masked man, he awkwardly gave his hand out for you to shake. "And this is Sniper Mask! He's scary, but-but, nice? Yeah, nice!" Yuri said, obviously unsure of her own words.
He extended his hand out for you to shake, and though you couldn't tell it, he was nervous beyond belief. He had just saved an extremely attractive guy and now he was no more than 2 feet in front of him!
"H-hey." Well, he fucked that up. You sighed, letting your shoulders slump as you took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Y/n, thanks for saving me Mr. Sniper Mask." You offered him a smile, to which his face instantly flushed, responding with nothing but a nod.
and that's where it began
at first, it was quiet between you and mr. mask
he didn't seem to make any moves to talk to you
hell, he didn't even seem to like being in the same room as you!
at least, that's from your perspective
from the other team, however...
"Kuon I-I don't. The command must of-" "Mr. Mask! You like Y/n! It's not the command, you do!" Kuon had been pestering Yuka for the past 30 minutes about her new idea. Obviously, it was nothing near the truth. It had to be the command malfunctioning.
"Admit it Mr. Mask! You're always looking at him and are fidgety whenever he's nearby!" Yuka sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush crawled up onto his face. "Kuon it's not that I can assure you, I don't-" "If you won't admit it, I'm going to tell him!"
With that, Kuon dashed out of the room to find you. It took Yuka a few seconds to realize what the girl meant before he came barreling down the hall after her. "Kuon! Wait-"
Kuon didn't end up actually telling you that Sniper Mask liked you per se
but she didddd say that he wanted to talk with you more
and when he came up to the two of you, he apologized profusely for Kuon's behavior and dragged her off
but, the ordeal did help him to realize that no, this wasn't the mask's doing
he did actually like you
and little did he know that the feeling was mutual!
oh good gods you fell for him quick
you didn't even know why you liked him, but dear gods you did
you were terrified to confess to him
he barely ever shows emotion, so what are the chances he would show them to you?
well, it took him a while to confess to you, and only after you got injured by a mask did he spill
you had gone out with Mayuko to go find some supplies when a mask holding a machete came running at you two
it had cut your arm pretty bad, but you would live
Mayuko helped you wrap it up with some gauze she had found
when the two of you got back, the others (excluding Sniper Mask at the time) were all over you
you assured them that you could patch up your own wound, so you made your way back to your own room
expecting to be alone, you were surprised when Sniper Mask stopped you right outside your room's door
You held your injured arm close to your stomach, groaning as a sharp pain went through it. Your room was just around the corner, and once you were inside you could patch it up and go to sleep. At least, that's what the plan was originally.
What you didn't expect was the silent being of Sniper Mask to be laying against the door, his head shooting up as he heard footsteps. He turned his head towards you, eyes shifting from yours to your arm, and back to you.
"What happened." He said, but it came out in a much deeper tone than you had anticipated. A small blush found its way onto your face, your words catching in your throat as he leaned off of the door, making his way closer to you.
He was only a foot away, your breath hitched as his hand came towards you. He paused for a second, looking back at you, before grabbing your uninsured hand in his gloved one. Despite the fabric, his hands still radiated heat.
"I'm fine." You stated, but it didn't seem to do anything as he dragged you down the hall and up a flight of stairs. You were going to ask where he was taking you, when he grabbed one of the door handles, twisting it open and leading you inside.
There was nothing particularly special about his room, besides the rifle on his bed, of course. He let go of your hand the second the two of you were in the room, pausing a second after, before going to get a first aid kid.
You sat down on his bed, leaving the rifle alone. Unconsciously, your hands intertwined themselves together, trying to recreate the warmth he did just a few seconds ago. When he came back over, he was quick to take off your makeshift bandages and wipe the wound down.
You hissed in pain, grabbing one of his hands in the process and squeezing it to try and relive it. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze of its own, quickly sanitizing it and dressing it with fresh bandages.
When he was done, you tried to let his hand go, but he squeezed it harder. You heard him let out a sigh, his face turning upwards as he looked at you. You couldn't see his eyes, but he was lost in yours.
Without thinking, he inched the bottom of his mask upwards with his free hand, just enough to reveal his mouth. Your heartbeat picked up, eyes widening as they flickered down to his lips.
In a second the lips you were staring at were pressed against your own. His lips were warm, the taste of coffee lingering from them. When he pulled away, you did nothing but look at him with adoration.
You cupped his face with one of your hands, your smile growing as he leans into the touch. "Y'know," he started, bringing his hand up to hold yours. "I've been meaning to ask you to become my boyfriend for a while."
"Is that so?" You asked him, earning a hum and a shrug in response. "Now seemed like a good time to ask." You chuckled softly at him, watching a smile form on his lips. "My answer is yes then, Sniper Mask."
it was hard to keep your relationship a secret from the girls
Kuon was glued to Yuma's side almost 24/7, so she caught on first
then it was a domino effect
the three of them were extremely happy for you two
they do tease you both from time to time though
Kuon is especially happy about the relationship
sure, she has a crush on Yuka, but she's happy to see the two of you together
he's very wary about it all at first
his group has been attacked before, and not to mention other masks that could hurt you
yes, he's a strong badass who could protect you no matter what
but it doesn't make him worry any less!
any time foreign masks come near, you better bet your ass they're gonna have a bullet hole (or two) in them
he loves to show off that you're his and vice versa
refers to you as "his boyfriend" a lot
also likes to say "i'm his boyfriend"
absolutely swoons if you call him "yours"
peppers your face with kisses any time he can
just giving you lots of kisses in general
likes to have you by his side most times
he always needs to make sure you're safe
you basically have your own bodyguard
usually sleeps with you on his chest and his arms wrapped around you
then again, he won't turn down being the little spoon~
genuinely fucking loves you and wants to make you know every second he can
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bibbidibobbidibucky · 3 years
Text
in his arms | b.b.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky's been gone for weeks on a mission and it starts to take its toll on Y/N.
Word Count: 1785
Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, language, hair pulling kink, very brief mention of death, and talk of cuts and bruises. Flashbacks are in italics!
A/N: My depression has been getting to me lately and I'm trying to see if this is a coping mechanism. Reading comfort stories usually helps me so I figured I'd try writing one. Feedback is always welcome and I hope you guys enjoy! 💕 Editing? Who's she??
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24 days.
That’s how long it’s been since Bucky and half the team left out to go on a mission.  When it came to Bucky leaving it was usually just for a week or two and you could hear from him every now and again, but not this time.  To say that you hated it would be an understatement and you hoped he would home any day now.
You walked around your apartment that you shared with Bucky and nursed a glass of wine.  Technically it was your third glass and if you were honest with yourself you were just trying to nurse the pain.  The past 24 days had been your own personal hell since you weren’t able to be in contact with Bucky.  Not knowing how things were going or if he was even alive.  You pushed that last thought from your mind.  That was the last thing you needed to think about right now.
Alpine meowed as you walked over to the window where she was sitting on her favorite chair.  The chair that she usually sat in while being curled up on Bucky’s lap.  You scratched her head and she meowed again.
“Yeah, I know Al.  I miss him too.”
You smiled sadly and took another sip of wine as you looked out the window over Brooklyn.  The view before you was one of the big reasons that you and Bucky ended up getting this apartment in the first place.  It was too beautiful to pass up according to him and with that thought a small smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the day you two moved in.
“Okay.  I think that’s the last of it babe,”  Bucky smiled as he kicked the door shut behind him
“Thank god. I’m so tired and never wanna see another box again,” you laughed as you fell face down onto the couch for a much needed break.  The two of you were officially moved into your new place.  A place to call home.
Bucky smiled down at you and lifted you feet as he sat down on the couch, placing your feet on his lap.  He rubbed your calves and looked out at the window as the sun started to set.  He was happy.  Truly happy and he thanked his lucky stars that he was able to feel this happiness because of you.  Falling in love with you was something he didn’t take for granted and he just knew that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you.
His thoughts were interrupted though when a soft snore came from you.  Not even five minutes on the couch and you were already fast asleep.  He chuckled and gently moved from the couch so he didn’t wake you.  He would let you sleep for now.  He kissed your forehead tenderly before looking over at Alpine.
“Let’s get some of this stuff out of the way and then order take out.  Whatcha think? Pizza? Chinese? ”
She purred as she rubbed against his leg and Bucky picked her up in one swift motion.  She meowed and Bucky smiled.
“Pizza it is.”
It was hard to believe that was just two months ago.  You had been in this apartment longer than he had and you missed him more than anything.  You just wanted to be in his arms and to have him home.  You teared up a little and downed the rest of the glass before reaching for your phone.  You pressed Bucky’s number and of course it went straight to voicemail like it had done for the last few weeks.  You knew you wouldn’t get an answer.  You just wanted to hear the sound of his voice.
“You’ve reached Bucky.  Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”
The tone beeped and you took a few seconds before deciding to leave him a message.
You bite your lip before speaking, “Hi baby, it’s me.  Look I know you can’t talk right now. I-I I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, Buck.  I miss you so much baby and I hope you and the rest of the team are okay.”
You had to stop for a moment as a tear spilled over your cheek.  The last thing Bucky needed to hear was you crying on his voicemail.
“There’s more I wanna say but I’ll wait till you come back home which I really hope is soon.  Almost a month without you has been awful and I miss cuddly up to you at night.  I miss a lot of things.”  You paused again, “I love you, Bucky.  I can’t wait to see you. Bye sweetheart.”
You ended the call and brushed the tears away that were now streaming down your cheeks.  You decided a hot shower before bed was what you needed right now to calm down.  That and maybe some melatonin later.
About ten minutes later as you were standing under the hot water you heard a noise that sounded like something being knocked over.  You brushed it off and just assumed Alpine was playing around and something fell.  You’d deal with it in a few minutes.
“Y/N?
You froze at the sound of your name and you thought you were hearing things.  You had to be right?  You slowly turned and saw the shape of Bucky through the fogged glass of the shower.  A small gasps left your lips and you smiled as he opened the door to the shower.
“I got your voicemail sweetheart,”  he smiled softly as he stepped closer to you.
You didn’t even give him time to say another word before you were pressing your lips to his in an endearing kiss.  The two of you stumbled back into the shower, not caring at all that Bucky was fully clothed.  The kiss consumed the both of you.  After being apart from weeks on end this was all you could do right now.  Words didn’t need to be spoken because everything that needed to be said was said in that kiss.
Small moans escaped your lips as Bucky picked you up and pressed you against the shower wall.  You couldn’t believe he was here.  He was finally home and you were finally in his arms once more.  You felt like your heart was gonna explode from how happy you were.
The kiss was broken as Bucky leaned back enough for you to help him discard his wet shirt and then his lips were back on yours.  You tugged on his hair as you held him close and a moan escaped his lips.  That sent a shiver all the way down to your core, causing you to grind against him.  The rest of his clothes were soon discarded and he was rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds.  Moans filled the area as the two of you basked in the pure pleasure of just being connected again.  Of being just able to hold on another.
“Oh fuck. James.”
You moaned out his name blissfully as he pushed into you and you already felt like you were on cloud nine.  He squeezed your ass as your hips started to rock into each other and moaned deeply.  He was pounding into you with long deep strides that had you tugging at his hair over and over again.
“Fuck, I missed you so much Y/N.  Missed you every single second sweetheart.”
You moaned in response and pressed your lips back to his.  The kiss was needy, sloppy, and full of emotions.  The two of you were desperate to have the other as close as possible and you had a feeling this is what it was gonna be like for the next fews days.  You would welcome it gladly.
“You feel so good baby. Missed having you inside me,” you mumbled against his lips and it caused him to smirk.  He loved knowing the effect he could have on you.
“Missed this tight little pussy baby.  The way your body reacts to me when I fuck you like this.  Fu-fuck Y/N,” he moaned out.
He buries his face in your neck and as he feels himself getting closer to cumming, “Missed everything about you sweetheart.”
You whimpered as he spoke and could tell it wouldn’t be long before you came as well.  His hips were getting sloppy with each thrust and he moved his hand between you to rub your clit.  You moaned wantonly and your toes curled.
A few more deep thrusts from Bucky was all it took to send you over the edge.  Your walls fluttered around him as you moaned his name over and over.  The feeling of you squeezing his cock like a vice edged him on.  You felt his release inside of you and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him close while you rode out your releases.  Soft kisses were placed along your neck, up your jaw, along your cheek, until he finally met your lips.
You hummed in satisfaction as you kissed him and couldn’t help the smile that formed before pulling, ghosting your lips over, “Welcome home, Bucky.”
You pulled back more to have a good look at his face.  You lifted your hand to gently caress his cheek and your heart melted when he leaned into your touch.  There was a cut above his eyebrow and what looked like a healing bruise on his cheek.  You knew missions were never easy for him and that they took a certain toll, but you’d be right there with him to help in any way he needed.
He placed a gentle kiss to your palm and smiled, “Think we can dry off and go get into bed.  I’m exhausted.”
You nodded and placed a kiss to his nose, “Of course baby.”
As the two of you got ready for bed you noticed more bruises and cuts along his skin but decided not to say anything, they would be gone in a day or two anyways.  You slipped on one of Bucky's old shirts and pulled back the covers of the bed.
“Come here,” you smiled and patted his side of the bed.
He smiled and flipped off the light before crawling up next to you, laying his head against your chest.  You wrapped your arms around him and ran your fingers along his back soothingly.  This was always one of his favorite things to do after getting home from missions.  Just being in your arms and listening to your heartbeat.
You smiled as the two of you laid there.  He was home.  He was in your arms and you were in his.
fin.
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volleychumps · 4 years
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Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!
S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama 
Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes
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Kuroo
“Kitten, I’m waiting~” 
“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.” 
“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”
“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment. 
“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?” 
“In your car?” 
“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.” 
You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient. 
“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-” 
“It’s nOT A-” 
You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure. 
Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you. 
The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket. 
“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?” 
Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately- 
“You bitch!” 
but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back- 
And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving. 
Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly. 
“Kuroo, let’s go.” 
“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.” 
“Tetsurou.” 
Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away. 
“Look at me listening to you, princess.” 
Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy. 
“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?” 
You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.
“Tight enough, apparently.” 
“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?” 
“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.” 
And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.  
Even if it wasn’t an appointment. 
Bokuto
“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!” 
“Do you pinky promise?” 
“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.” 
“That’s 6.9% too much.” 
“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand. 
“You win this one!” 
“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head. 
Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage. 
“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?” 
“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch. 
“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.” 
You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy. 
“I’m actually waiting for somebody-” 
“I don’t see them, though?” 
Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until- 
“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?” 
“Feisty.” 
“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise. 
The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form. 
“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-” 
A tap on the shoulder. 
“Do you know what else can be arranged?” 
“Who the hell-” 
He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken. 
“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question. 
“Take a fucking guess.” 
You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave. 
“Just one more punch-” 
“Trust me, that was plenty.” 
It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes. 
“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down. 
“Right. So maybe not 7%-” 
“Y/N?” 
“Yes, Bo?” 
“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off. 
“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?” 
You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question- 
“Car sex?” 
Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%. 
“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!” 
“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.” 
Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade- 
being replaced with something much more important. 
Kageyama 
“...you sure you’re okay?” 
“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands. 
Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones. 
The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match. 
He had a little bit of a clue what that could be. 
The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today. 
What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that. 
Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up. 
“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?” 
“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.” 
“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner. 
But you weren’t. 
Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance. 
“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-” 
“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?” 
Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again. 
“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.” 
“Come on, play nice~” 
You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does. 
Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground. 
“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash- 
“Oh, before you take him-” 
You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist. 
“Alright. You can take him now.” 
Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.
“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?” 
“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh. 
“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?” 
You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions. 
“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!” 
“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body. 
“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.” 
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General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046
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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years
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Trident Tale part 2
Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader
Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)
Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
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Original image by @maewoahoah
Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.
Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.
You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.
You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.
The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.
By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.
It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.
The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.
It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.
It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.
Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.
“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.
“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.
“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.
“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.
“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”
“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”
“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”
“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.
“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s gonna see you…”
“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”
“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”
“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.
What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”
“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”
Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.
He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.
Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.
“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.
In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.
“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.
“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”
God.
“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”
He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”
After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.
“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”
Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.
“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”
“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.
“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”
Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.
“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”
Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.
“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”
“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  
What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.
The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.
Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”
Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.
Tricky, magic fish-man.
“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”
The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.
They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.
Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.
“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”
“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”
In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.
“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.
“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”
“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”
“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”
You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”
“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”
Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”
“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”
“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.
“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”
“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.
“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”
It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”
“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”
“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”
“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”
“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”
Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.
I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.
Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.
“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.
At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”
“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.
“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”
“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.
Hitoshi frowns.
“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”
“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.
“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.
“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”
“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”
“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”
“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.
“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”
Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”
“He’s a fish, Denki.”
“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”
“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.
“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”
Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”
“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”
Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.
“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.
“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.
“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.
Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.
“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.
“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”
And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.
“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”
“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”
“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”
“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”
“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”
Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”
The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”
Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”
“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.
“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”
“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”
Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”
“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”
This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”
“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”
“Which would be?”
Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.
“Romantic rendezvous.”
“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”
Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”
You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”
Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.
“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”
Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.
“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”
“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”
Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”
To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.
There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.
“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”
At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.
“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”
“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”
Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.
“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” You ask.
“That the two of you are going to help me.”
The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”
“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.
Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”
Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?
Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”
“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”
“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”
“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.
On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.
“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”
Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”
“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”
“So good at questions,” you murmur.
“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.
“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”
“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”
“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”
“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.
“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”
Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.
“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”
Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.
However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.
“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”
The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.
“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”
“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.
“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”
“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”
At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.
“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”
Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.
“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”
“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”
“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”
“I have a boat.”
“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”
“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.
“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.
“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.
“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”
There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.
“So if we help you find these gems—“
“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.
“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”
“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”
“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.
“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”
Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.
“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”
“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”
Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.
“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”
Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.
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queensoybean0724 · 3 years
Text
Succession Chapter 2
Here is Chapter 2!  I hope y'all like it!
Title: Succession Chapter 2
Characters: female reader, Karl Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau, lycans, mentions of OC
Rating: PG-13 for images of gore, scenes of terror, possible kidnapping trigger warnings
Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.
Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
It’s unusual how your senses come back to you when you regain consciousness after a trauma.  You couldn’t see at first or maybe it was that your hearing arrived before you opened your eyes.  It felt as if a pair of sound cancelling headphones were slowly pulled from your ears.  Then followed your sense of touch.  Blistering cold hit your skin and seemed to seep in and nestle into your bones.  It felt sharp and painful against your cheek as if someone were drawing a scalpel across your flesh.  Pain surged to the forefront and with that, you finally opened your eyes.
It was dark inside the cabin of the plane, the only light being the natural light shining through the damage to the hull.  The window next to you was shattered and you felt cuts along your arm.  The seatbelt had you secured to your seat and it was cutting into your stomach, adding to the all-over pain in your body.  The air mask was still secure over your mouth.  Lifting your hand shakily to remove the mask, you took in your surroundings.
The wind whipping outside the plane was the only thing you could hear.  You listened for the voices of any passengers, whether they be whispers, cries, or shouts for help.  It was as quiet as a tomb.
“Br-Bruce?” you whispered, looking towards his seat.  The darkened plane made you strain your eyes in order to see him.  His body was slumped away from you, his bottom half held still by his seat belt.  You slowly reached for him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you.  His body slid against his seat before slumping towards you.  His eyes were open.  The air mask was over his mouth.  You pulled the mask from his head to see if he was breathing.  His mouth hung open.  He was dead.
“Oh god…” you whimpered, your body beginning to shake.  He was the only person you knew on this flight.  You didn’t know what to do or who to call out for.  “Hello?” you croaked as you lifted your head to look over the seat before you.  Your throat was scratchy and sore from the cold air.  “Can anyone hear me?  Help!!”  You were met with silence.  
Surely someone had to be alive.  You couldn’t be the sole survivor in this crash.  Reaching down for the clasp of the seatbelt, you pressed the button and released yourself.  You took one last look at Bruce’s lifeless body as you crawled over him and into the aisle.  “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, running your hand over the top of his head.
The plane was a mangled mess, suitcases and bags strewn everywhere from the impact.  Bodies were in the aisle and tossed across seats and hanging over the armrests.  “Is anyone alive?” you asked in a raised voice.
You stepped over bodies and suitcases, holding on to the seats on either side of you.  The wind from outside blew into the cabin, blowing your hair around your face.  You were freezing and quaking from the cold.  The clothing you were wearing was not enough to keep you warm.  Thankfully, you remembered the flight attendants taking coats at the beginning of the flight and placing them in a small closet towards the front of the plane.  Finding the closet, you pried it open, finding the heaviest coat inside, and put it on.
Making your way towards an area that had been split open from the crash, you continued looking around for survivors.  You listened closely for any voices, hoping and praying that someone else had survived.
Panic began to set in once you exited the plane.  Snow coated the ground.  Trees stood gangly and devoid of leaves.  The clouds above were thick and vast, hiding any trace of sunlight.  You looked around for houses or buildings...for any signs of life.
You trudged around the debris, searching for a path or road that could lead to civilization.  The village that you had seen from the plane couldn’t be far from where the plane had crashed.  Maybe you could knock on doors and use someone’s phone to call for help.  Or the black box...every plane had a black box.  Surely someone had been notified that the plane went down or where it disappeared from radar.
You continued walking around the plane, looking high and low for anything.  The snow crushed under your shoes.  You slipped and fell a few times from icy patches under the snow.  Pulling the coat tighter around you, you shoved your hands into the pockets, rubbing your body to keep them warm.
As you were coming back around to where you had exited the plane, a noise came from inside.  Suitcases rustled and fell over and you heard an audible grunt. Oh thank god, you thought, someone is alive!  Perhaps someone finally regained consciousness and is trying to get out and get help.  You ran around the plane and peered inside.
A man was hunched over a body, his clothing tattered and torn.  He was pressing on the person’s chest, shaking the body, perhaps trying to perform CPR.
“Hey!” you called out to the man, your voice filled with hope and relief that you were not the only person that survived.  The man stopped and slowly turned towards you.  
What looked back at you was not the face of a survivor...or that of a human being.  Tousled hair laid in a tangled heap on its head.  The lips pulled back showing a row of jagged teeth.  The eyes were devoid of anything that could be described as a soul.  You listened as a low growl slipped from its mouth.  Its mouth and hands were covered in blood and only then did it dawn on you that it was not performing CPR...it was feasting on the body.
“What the fuck?!?” you yelped, falling backwards in the snow.  You scrambled away as the thing crawled from inside of the plane, advancing towards you.  It let out a loud bark and a snarl, its eyes absolutely feral.
You jumped to your feet, turning to retreat and let out a loud scream.  Two other things just like the one behind you blocked your escape.  They were equally as terrifying...eyes, claws, fangs, and tattered clothing.  What the hell were they??
You broke off to your right and ran towards the trees, hoping to lose them in the forest.  A loud howl sounded from one of them and the other two snarled deep in their throats.  Your heart was hammering in your chest as you ran as fast as your legs could take you.  Adrenaline pumped throughout your body.  You did not risk looking behind you for fear that it would hinder your escape.  
The sound of their feet running in the sloshy snow began to increase and you knew they were getting closer.  Oh god, oh god, they’re gonna kill me!
You saw a flash of something from the corner of your eye before feeling a large form shove into you and send you flying into a hill of snow.  Rolling onto your back, you looked as a fourth monster stood before you, drool dripping from its teeth.  It wrapped its hand around the tree next to it and stared you down.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” you yelled.  The other three that had been chasing you joined up with the fourth and you knew that you were no match for all of them.  Your heart beat wildly and you were frozen with fear, not knowing when they were going to pounce.  One of them lunged forward, its hand gripping your ankle.  As it leered over you, it let out a howl...and you screamed.
“Stop!” a voice sounded from behind the beasts.  All four creatures stopped and turned towards the voice, standing straight and obedient.  They parted and allowed the person to approach.
Person...the thing that approached you was not a person, but also was not like the feral animals that had been chasing you.  Your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open as a hunchbacked figure started hobbling towards you and the creatures.  A large black cloak covered its body.  As it came closer, you noticed long, thin arms...a humped back with a rippled form...and thin legs that ambled slowly towards you.  The creatures watched the thing walk past them and closer to you.  The face was grotesque, jagged teeth sticking out from under gray lips.  The skin was pale and appeared sickly.  An intense odor of fish and sweat formed around it.  You had to breathe through your mouth to keep from gagging.
“Are y-you okay?” the thing asked, hobbling closer to you.  Panic and adrenaline still surged in your body and you crawled backwards to keep distance between the two of you.  He noticed and stopped, slowly lifting his hands in front of him.  “Don’t be sc-scared,” the thing stammered, “I won’t hu-hurt you.  And the lycans...won’t hurt...you ei-either.”
You looked back at the four monsters that stood behind the hunchback.  They stood still, snarling and breathing heavily.  The wind rustled the hair on their heads.  The thing before you took another step forward and held out his hand.  “My name...is...Salvatore Moreau,” he said, beckoning you to take his hand.  
You stood on your own, falling backwards a few steps in order to keep your distance.  Moreau whimpered and bent forward, taking a step back in order to respect your boundaries.  “I won’t touch...you...I don’t...w-want you to be...afraid of m-me…”  
His words made you lessen your defenses a bit.  He looked like a monster just like the wolf-like creatures behind him, but none of them advanced on you or tried to harm you.  You finally found your voice.
“I was in a plane crash,” you murmured, unsure of what to do next, “I don’t think anyone else is alive…”
Moreau looked back towards the wreckage and then over at the things behind him.  Upon seeing one of them covered in fresh blood, he turned back towards you.  “My lycans...sm-smelled fresh blood...they always run...towards...fre-fresh blood…”
You winced at the man’s deformed figure and his stuttered ramblings.  Who were these things?  Where the fuck were you?
“Can you help me?” you asked warily, taking a step towards him, “is there a phone? Can we call for help?”
Moreau bent forward in a coughing fit and retched.  Green vomit gushed from his mouth and into the white snow.  Steam rose from the vomit and you couldn’t stop yourself from gagging and putting your hand over your mouth.  He heaved a few more times before looking back at you.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “the fish...and my body...they don’t get a-along…”
What the fuck is going on, you thought.  Was this an area that had fallen victim to radiation or poisoning in the water system?  You tried to calculate in your mind how far away you were from Chernobyl...maybe what was going on here was similar to what went on there all those years ago.
“The only...ph-phone is at Alcina’s castle…” Moreau continued.  
The castle?!  The castle that you saw from overhead?!  This was perfect! Maybe you could call for help and find your way to the embassy in this country and let them know that you were on a plane to Moldova.  Surely the airline will wonder why their plane did not touch down at its destination and come looking for survivors.
“Can you take me to the castle, Mr. Moreau?” you asked, the first ounce of hope shining through.
“What the fuck is going on over here?!?!?!”
A gruff voice sounded from behind the lycans and all of you turned towards the sound.  You watched as a man trudged through the snow, making his way over to the motley crew.  He wore a black wide brimmed hat and a long brown trench coat with a tan shirt and brown pants underneath.  A massive hammer sat across his shoulder with one hand gripping the long handle.  The man’s gaze went from each lycan to Moreau...and finally resting on you.
“Well...who do we have here?” the man asked, pushing his way past Moreau.  Upon closer inspection you saw that the man wore a pair of rounded lens sunglasses.  You heard the clang of metal hanging around his neck as he moved closer.  An amused smile spread across his mouth.  You cleared your throat audibly.
“My name is Y/N and I was on the plane that crashed a few yards that way,” you murmured, pointing back towards the wreckage.  Despite not being able to see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze.  It was piercing, searching...as if he could see deep inside of you.  It was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating, although you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
“Is that so?” the man asked, swinging his hammer around and setting it down in the snow.  He stepped in front of you, holding out his hand.  You kept your gaze on his face as you placed your hand in his.  “My name is Karl Heisenberg,” he greeted, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it.  You shivered at his kiss,  not knowing what came over you.  It felt as if electrical charges flowed from his lips and down your skin, making your flesh erupt in goose bumps.
“Poor little pussycat,” Heisenberg remarked, looking you up and down, “the wreckage looks unbelievable.  You must be positively traumatized…”
You nodded your head and lowered your hand back to your side.  A gust of wind shook you to your core and you tightened the coat around yourself.  “Umm...yes...Mr. Moreau here was telling me that there was a phone nearby...we could call for help…”
Heisenberg slowly turned his gaze back towards Moreau.  You looked past him and saw that the deformed man cowered under Heisenberg’s gaze, taking a step backwards as if contemplating fleeing.  Heisenberg turned back to you and flashed you a reassuring smile.
“Of course, my dear,” Heisenberg said, reaching to pick up his hammer, “come with me and we will surely find aid and assistance in the village…”
“We could ask Mother…” Moreau began, taking a step towards you and Heisenberg.
“Shut up, you freak!” Heisenberg snapped at Moreau.  Your jaw dropped as you looked between the two men.  Moreau bowed his head and retreated a few steps.  You felt sorry for the poor man as you looked up at Karl Heisenberg and started to feel disdain for the man.  Moreau was about to offer advice and was met with hostility.  The poor man was not pleasant to look at, sure, but from what you could tell, he was harmless and seemed sincere and ready to help.  You would sooner ask for Moreau’s help than Heisenberg’s help at that point.
“Thank you, Mr. Heisenberg,” you began, “but Moreau was telling me of a phone in a castle not far from here that I could use…”  But as you were about to continue, Heisenberg held his hand up to silence you.
“Forgive me for my brash tone,” Heisenberg interrupted, “but my brother here does not know what he is talking about.  Please, if you would accompany me to my factory, I have a working telephone there that you can use…”
You felt a growing sliver of fear in the pit of your stomach.  The man before you was charismatic and confident, but there was something off about him.
“I think I’ll follow Moreau…” you murmured, moving around Heisenberg to go to Moreau.  A sudden movement and Heisenberg’s gloved hand wrapped around your arm, stopping your retreat.
“Oh, no, ma’am...I insist you come with me…” Heisenberg growled.
You tried to pull your arm from his grasp, but his fingers only tightened.  His grip began to hurt.  “Let go of me,” you said, trying to pull away.  He jerked your body closer to him as he looked down into your frightened face.
“There is no use arguing or putting up a fight, pussycat,” Heisenberg leered, “you’re coming with me…”  And with that, he released your arm and swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist, hauling you against him, and walked back from where he came.
“MOREAU!” you screamed as Heisenberg marched away with you in tow.  Heisenberg turned towards the man and shot him a murderous glare.  “You keep your mouth shut about this…” he spat at Moreau, “...not a fucking word or I’ll kill you…”  The hunchback only nodded and bowed his head.
“STOP!  LET GO!!  MOREAU!” you shouted, wriggling against Heisenberg’s grip on your waist.  The feeble man only stood there helpless, looking down at the snow.  His lycans began their retreat, disappearing into the forest.
“I’m sorry,” you heard Moreau whimper as Heisenberg dragged you off.
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bts-trash-blog · 3 years
Text
Best Of Us
Chapter 5:Flipped
Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.
Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader
Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.
An: Holy crap thank you guys for all the love on this story!! i can’t wait for you guys to see where this story goes,  and I know this chapter is on the short side but the next couple of ones are going to be long. Also you are going to get pissed at the OC, no doubt. She hurts the boys, but I swear the wait, the pain, will all make sense at the end.
Chapter Edited
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Your hands were shaking, wrapped in a sweater paws, back against the cold metal wall of the elevator, mind racing. Your eyes closing as you let out a whine at the thought of the three ,and you were going to be spending the night with what your best friend Bambam pointed out were most likely your mates. No it can’t be. You shake your head, arms winding themselves around yourself as you take a deep breath in.  How didn’t you notice? How didn’t you notice the way their scent affected you, well you did you noticed in your own way, you just decided what you felt was the need of another. Yet when these words hit you, it felt as if the whole world hit you. Taking another deep breath in, you unknowingly had tears falling down your eyes as you sniffled, making your scent grow thick, sour. Why didn’t they say anything? What if you lose them? What if they don’t want you? No. Stop thinking that.
Your plan of wanting to calm down before you enter the floor, but your anxiety was up just as the doors flew open and suddenly Namjoons scent of pears and peaches swarmed you, arms around your waist and head buried into your neck. The feeling of his nose against your scent gland had your body feel as if it was vibrating, twisting into his touch. Your hands gripping his waist as he rocks your back and forth, the doors closing, as he lets out a purr against your neck. Your eyes letting tears fall onto his chest as his laced hands rests on your back, chirps and purrs coming from Namjoon filled the elevator as you let out a whine.
“Shhhh.” Namjoon mumbled against your skin, making you tighten your eyes, keeping them close as you moved a hand from his waist up and against his chest, gripping the sweater he was in. It smelt of him. It smelt of a mouth watering pear and sweet desirable peaches, it had your eyes almost rolling back, as your hand let out another whimper. “Stay with me, with us.” Namjooon whispered into your skin, his nose running along your scent glane making him whine against you. The thick distress scent that was swarming the two of you was dultining, lessioning as the doors opened again. The smell of a minty vanilla scent had Namjoon relaxing more than he was when you had wrapped your hands around him.
“Joon, come on.” Hoseok's voice had your head moving away from Namjoon chest, sniffling as Namjoon still clung to you. “Joon..Omega come on.” Hoseok's words were almost a growl, as Namjoon let out a whine and pulled away. You took a deep breath as you looked at the Alpha, his eyes lingering on the two of you. “You two, Yoongi's office.” Hoseok's voice softened as Namjoon's hand laced with your own making you flinch, having him whine as Hoseok grabbed Namjoon, hand resting on the back of the male Omegas neck. you glance to see his thumb rubbing at a mark on the right side of his neck. You hand absentmindedly reaching for the same spot on your own. It had you shaking your head as you followed after them. Jin now at the desk, his eyes staying on the screen as you  follow after the two with caution.
As you follow, Namjoon keeps looking back at the scent of you swarming his senses, it had his head spinning in the elevator, that he couldn’t help but rush to when you and Bambam had walked away. He waited outside the door for ten minutes. Ten minutes that had his skin crawling, that had his heart pounding and his mind racing. You had scented with another Omega, an Omega the smelt like another Alpha. You were going to nest with another Omega. You were gonna cuddle, and sleep with another Omega. You were going to laugh, and joke in what they assumed would be a nest that the two of you were going to put together. That was meant for him. He and you were supposed to gather blankets, pillows and anything elses the two of you wanted to burrow in. He was supposed to make you laugh, and help you destress. It was supposed to be him, to be the omega you turn to when the world got too much. Yet it was that Bambam that you had gone to. It had hurt his heart, and destroyed him to the core. Already having, and still feeling the rejection of earlier that day, this was just another blow that his Omega couldn’t take. Couldn’t handle it. So he had snapped, had taken it a step too far when he had seen the two of you, had seen that Bambam scented you. They had proceeded to scent you right in front of them. He saw red watching as Bambam ran his nose over your scent gland, having made a giggle one they had never heard before pass your lips.
Hoseok and Yoongi were the same way, though it was more so the thought of this Omega, and the lingering scent of who they assumed was his Alpha. Wondering if the two were courting you, trying to make themselves a trio. Logically the Alphas knew that it wasn’t the case, but they couldn’t help but grow protective at the thought. That this Omega and his soon to be Alpha had also started courting you. It drove them insane. It drove Hoseok crazy and it drove Yoongi to anger. You were his. Theirs.
Yet all three felt guilty, when you had come in with a slight gleam in your eyes, how excited you sounded when you talked about nesting with the Omega. You were stressed. You need to destress, need to feel safe and comforted and they took that away. They didn’t even ask what your relationship was with the Omega, which seemed more likely to be a friend, hell they don’t know what your favorite color is let alone who your friends were. And they thought they had any right to control who you spent your night with? Its fucking selfish. They hated that they did it, Yoongi hated that he had used his authority of being your boss over your head, having most likely called your friend a distraction. He hated that he was possessive over you as quickly as he was. You drove them crazy.
It wasn’t like you were feeling much better.
If you were stressed before, you don't know what you were now. Anxious might be the word to explain it, and you could tell the Alpha and Omega in front of you smelled it. Felt it. So as they opened Yoongi's office door, Namjoon lingered back, hand reaching for yours making you stumble forward. Your large frame smashing into his, making him slightly giggle as he stabilized you.
“You’re okay.” It wasn’t a question, it was a reassuring statement towards you. Nodding he had you letting go of his hand and moving inside, a chair already next to Yoongi making you glup as he justers for you to sit. As you move across the room, as quickly as you could, your clumsy self had you stumbling as you trip over your own shoes.
“Sorry.” You squeak moving to sit down as you are suddenly spun around, Hoseoks towering over you making you glup as he bends down. The sound of his knees cracking had Namjoon smile playfully, as he rolls his eyes and smiles at you. His eyes shine against the arifically light, mixing with the moon behind you. It had your brain go blank as his hands rested, hovered over the tops of your thighs once again.
“Sorry about Namjoon. He gets like that when he’s needy.” His words had Namjoon scoffing as he ran his hand through his hair. “Namjoo-”
“Just tell her, good fucking god.” Najoon growled, making your eyes widen as you look back to Hoseoks, his hands, for the first time since you first started working there, touched you. Your muscles flinch involuntarily making Hoseok's eyes snap to you. “Tell her, or I will.”
“Namjoon, stop.” Yoongi growls making both Namjoon and you whine as you pull your hands to wrap around yourself at the tone making Yoongi's eyes widen. You bow your head, body spinning the chair back to face the paperwork in front of you as Yoongi lets out a sigh.
“Y/n, I didn’t mean to use the Alpha tone like that.” You nod awkwardly as you start to flip through the paperwork in front of you. “Y/n.” He mumbles softly making you look over to see his eyes were soft, his lips part as you made eye contact. “I’m sorry.” You once again nod, turning back to the paperwork as you hear Namjoon grunt.
“You’re our fourth.” The room went quiet, so quiet it had the whole room spinning for a split second as you took a deep breath and flip through the paperwork some more.
“I know.”
And the whole world flipped.
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Night Out (smutty/fluff)
CW: kissing, getting caught kissing (by a child), slight teasing, dirty thoughts, talk of alcohol consumption, mutual pining, mention of nipple piercings, fluff!!, #milfalert ;), pervy spencer
Word Count: 3300
AN: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this one shot! <3
--
Spencer's POV:
"Can't you find anyone to babysit?"
Looking up from the book I was currently reading, I listened in on the conversation that was going on between Emily, Penelope, JJ, and Y/n.
We had finally come back from a week-long case, and the girls had been planning a night out once everyone got back home. As of now, we were on the jet, half the team asleep, the other half discussing their plans.
"Everyone's busy," Y/n frowned, combing a few loose hairs behind her right ear. "Besides, I haven't seen Aaliyah in over a week; I should probably stay home."
"Y/n, Aaliyah is three- almost four- years old! You haven't gone out since the year before she was born. You deserve to take a break and enjoy yourself. You can hang out with her on Saturday." Emily reasoned, splaying her hands out on the table in front of her as I listened.
"I would love to, Em, but everyone is too busy to babysit. It's not like I'm gonna send her to her abusive father in New York; fuckin' asshole," she mumbled the last remark, rolling her eyes.
Before I could stop myself, I piped into their conversation. "I-I'll babysit Aaliyah."
JJ raised her eyebrows at me. "Spence, you've never babysat anyone before. Do you know how to?"
"I know how to babysit!" I squeaked, laying my book down on the table in front of me, crossing my arms defensively in front of my chest. "Besides, I haven't seen Aaliyah in a month. I miss her."
"You would do that for me?" Y/n spoke quietly, smiling softly.
I blushed. "Of-of course. I would do anything for you--" the words flew from my mouth like vomit.
Jesus, Spencer.
Could you be any more obvious?
Emily chuckled as I tried to revise my wording, the beautiful woman sitting on the couch blushing slightly as she bit her lower lip.
"I-I mean! I would- I-I love Aaliyah, of c-course I would help you out. You deserve it."
Y/n smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling slightly.
God, she's so beautiful.
So perfect.
"Thank you, Spence," Y/n stood up from her place on the jet's couch, bent down, and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then stood up, lightly hugging my head to her pelvis lightly as she looked down at me, before combing her fingers through my hair as she talked with the girls; leaning her body against my seat. My heart fluttered in my chest as I blushed. Hard.
Before walking away to grab some more coffee, she ruffled my hair. Her hips swayed as she walked to the other side of the jet. I reluctantly tore my eyes from her without being too noticeable.
I turned my head back to the girls, their eyebrows arched, a smirk crawling up their lips.
I gulped, "W-what?"
JJ shook her head dismissavely, "Oh nothing, loverboy."
Heat crawled up my neck, spreading across my face as I willed myself to look back at my book.
But I couldn't read properly.
I kept touching the cheek Y/n so delicately pressed her soft lips upon. My face tingled slightly and my heart leapt, replaying the moment in my head over and over.
Turns out, that was a better entertainment than my book for the next two hours on the jet.
--
Friday Night: 6:56 PM
If I thought the butterflies that circled my body once Y/n had kissed my cheek had been bad, it was nothing compared to the feeling I got when she opened the door; her blue pajama pants on and a tank top that was taut to her upper body making my slacks tighten shamefully.
She looked so beautiful when she was in comfortable, domestic clothing, that I was barely able to focus on the words that were coming out of her mouth as she tried inviting me inside her apartment. Instead, I stood in the doorway, eyes wide as I swallowed thickly, my eyes wandering her figure and face.
I imagined waking up next to her, the golden sun illuminating her face. I would cherish the small kisses we would share sleepily, smiling against one another's lips. The embrace we share: warm and inviting.
"Spence?" she laughed softly. I snapped out of my daze.
"Y-Yeah?"
"You okay?"
I nodded, smiling. "Yes of course, I'm sorry."
Y/n only giggled, the sound filling my body with butterflies and a great dose of serotonin.
She opted to pull me in by my tie, and I yelped slightly at the sudden force. I bit down the small moan that was begging to be released from my throat as she closed the door and smoothed my silk tie out for me.
Smiling softly, she put a hand on my cheek. "Thank you so much. I know this probably isn't the first thing you'd want to do on a Friday night."
I smiled meekly.
"It's no problem. And usually I read at home. Alone. During any occasion or day of the week, really."
I subtly nuzzled my head in her palm before hearing little footsteps approach.
"Mommy! Who-? SPENCIE!" Aaliyah's curly hair bounced on her head as a great smile split across her cheeks at the sight of me. She ran over, jumping happily and wrapping her tiny arms and hands around my upper thigh. She giggled as I swooped down and picked her up.
"Hello, Aaliyah!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her pj cladded body, to which she wrapped her arms around my neck and sprinkled light, but slightly open mouthed kisses on my face.
"Aaliyah, quit suffocating Spencer," Y/n chuckled nervously, pulling the three-year old away from my body and settling her daughter on her hip. Aaliyah made grabby-hands for me, so I extended my hand and let her wrap her tiny hand around my thumb. She played with my digits as Y/n kissed her daughter's forehead. "I'm sorry about her energy, I told her you'd be coming to babysit but she must've forgotten. Now she's all worked up."
"Don't worry about it," I assured her, smiling happily at the image in front of me.
"Spen- Spencie we can bake cookies!" Aaliyah hiccuped, beaming.
"That sounds great!"
Y/n smiled before hearing her phone chime in the other room. "Oh, shoot. I should get ready,"
I nodded, taking Aaliyah from her arms as Y/n made her way to the bedroom.
The toddler squished my face with her tiny hands, a giggle bubbling from her throat.
"Thanks for arriving early, Spence," Y/n called from her room. "And thanks for doing this."
"It's no problem, really." I set Aaliyah down, letting her hold my hand.
It was quiet besides the little fits of laughter made by Aaliyah and me, and the soft music that played as Y/n got ready.
"Spencie," Aaliyah whispers, pulling me in close by gripping the fabric of my sweater vest. "My mommy really likes you. She talks about you so much." she whispers into my ear, the smell of strawberry baby soap wafting from her curly hair. I feel myself blush.
Y/n talks about me?
A lot, apparently.
Aaliyah giggles and runs off to her room, telling me that she is going to grab some more toys.
My thoughts swarm throughout my head until Y/n exits her room.
Fuck.
"Uhm, h-how do I look?" she asks nervously, flattening her dress out beneath her palms.
She wore a cotton, navy blue, low-cut, U-neck, short-sleeved dress. It was tight against her body, the image making my body and face heat up as I gulped heavily. Her black high-heels made the urge for wanting her to step on me grow.
I adjusted the drooping glasses on my nose as my mouth opened slightly. I felt my breathing pick up.
With a clearer image, I saw that tonight, she wore nothing underneath; the sight made me feral. Two small bulbs on either side of her pebbled nipples caught my attention. I was confused for a brief moment before I realized. Nipple piercings.
Fucking hell.
I was sexualizing her. I knew it. I hated myself for it. Thus, I tore my eyes away from her.
"I-I mean- you look- just- well, you know- very uhm- y-you look grea- beautiful. Y-you look absolutely beautiful." I cleared my throat, subtly adjusting the tightening in my slacks.
God, I'm a terrible person.
"Thank you, Spencer." she giggled.
I can only imagine her taking control over my body, her hand wrapping around my throat as she scolds me for being like this. For thinking of her like this. She would ride me until she came and wouldn't allow me to finish until I made her cum three times. And I would feed on her pleasure. Feed on the way my essence would drip down from her body and pool at mine.
My heart hammered in my chest as I looked down, fidgeting with my hands.
I didn't even realize Y/n striding over to me. My hair must've been in my eyes as she got down next to me and combed some of my hair back. Again, I felt my face turn red. It was a routine at this point. She straddled my thigh as she did this, leaning over and fixing my once-gelled hair.
"Sorry," she laughed softly, standing back up as Aaliyah ran back into the room. "I've been wanting to fix it all night."
A content sigh left her mouth as she kissed her daughter's head and grabbed her purse. I stood up in pursuit.
A ding rang from her phone. She read from her device.
"Alright, they're here!" she announced, picking Aaliyah up and hugging her tightly. "Be good for Spence, okay?" Aaliyah nodded happily, running back over to me once her mother set her down on the ground.
"Okay, Spence?" Y/n turned her attention towards me. "Aaliyah's food is in the refrigerator, don't let her have more than one cookie, and her bedtime is 9:00. She's gonna try and push it back further, and no matter how much she begs, please; don't budge." she chuckled, fixing her lip gloss in the small mirror next to her apartment's front door.
"Food: refrigerator, one cookie, bedtime: 9." I recited.
Y/n grinned and quickly kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you for doing this again, Spence. It means a lot to me."
I smiled bashfully. "Of course. Have fun."
Y/n smiled back and ran out the door, kissing Aaliyah on her forehead and began to meet with her friends.
I stared at the door before I felt small hands tug on my left pant-leg. "Spencie, I want cookies!" Aaliyah huffed.
I snapped out of my dazed feelings and followed the toddler into the kitchen.
"Okay! Cookie time!"
-
After one Barbie movie, a dozen cookies baked, dinner eaten, and two children's books, I, and Aaliyah were exhausted by the end of the night.
Thus, at 9:05, (Aaliyah had been sneaky and hid from me under her bed (giving me quite the panic) as to extend her bedtime) I tucked the sleepy child in.
"Spencie?" she whispered sleepily, I hummed in response as I ran my fingers through her hair. "Mommy loves you. A lot. Just thought you would wan' know." she yawned, snuggling closer to her pink bunny-rabbit I had gifted her the day she was born.
My heart fluttered in my chest at her words.
Spencer, what are you thinking?
She's three years old.
She still thinks unicorns still exist.
There's no way Y/n likes you like that.
I smiled softly and kissed her forehead gingerly as she snuggled closer into my chest.
Although, those contradicting thoughts were shushed a sleepy goodnight as I felt my eyes flutter close. Even in the cramped space of Aaliyah's bed, I still dreamt of a happy life with Y/n and Aaliyah. I dreamt of happiness that would warm the coldest of hearts.
I dreamt of my dream girl, who so happened to be Y/n.
I dreamt of the sweetest of things.
The most beautiful.
Y/n.
-
Reader's POV:
Coming back home at midnight from a loud and eccentric club was seemingly always therapeutic.
I had missed Aaliyah.
A lot.
And I had also missed Spencer.
But I was glad to go out and enjoy my time with the girls. I milked an alcoholic strawberry daiquiri all night as we danced and grinded on one another.
It was fun.
However, I still missed my daughter (and the babysitter).
I couldn't wait to shower and crawl into my bed, dreaming of the happiest of things. I couldn't wait to dream of my fantasize of my dream man, who so happened to be Spencer.
I saw the way he looked at me.
I knew his feelings for me. I had felt the same way about him. And although this may be cruel, I loved to innocently tease him. I loved to make him nervous and loved watching him stutter around his words at the slight touch of my hand on his shoulder or chest.
I wanted to feel him. Have a domestic life with him. Be with him.
I wanted Aaliyah to have an amazing father, and I knew that if Spencer was up for it, he would love me and her unconditionally. He would fit in the spot of 'father' so comfortably.
And I felt shameful for those nights I would pleasure myself to the thought of him. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against my skin. The way he would pour himself into my body with all the love he could muster.
And although those were the more tame thoughts, I still dreamt of the way I would control him under my touch. Make him beg.
Those thoughts made my heart flutter in my chest and my orgasm erupt from my body whenever I would play with myself.
Going back to now, as if I could think the mere sight of Spencer was enough to melt my heart, I definitely was not prepared for the sight I would see once at home.
Aaliyah was snuggled on his chest, a book splayed open across his lap as they both slept so soundly. His arms wrapped protectively but comfortingly around my daughter, her tiny body a fraction of his.
I almost didn't wake him until I realized that it was probably cruel for him to sleep in such a small bed, even if he looked so comfortable in it. His feet hung over the edge, the mismatched socks he wore making me laugh softly.
I bent over, kissing him softly on the forehead. He stirred, his eyes closing tightly before fluttering open.
"Hi," I whispered, combing some hair from his eyes.
"Hey," he yawned softly. "Sorry, I must've fallen asleep."
I shrugged slightly.
"No need to apologize. Looks like she likes you more than her stuffed animals," I chuckled.
Spencer laughed quietly along with me as he grabbed his shoes, then bent down to kiss Aaliyah's cheek; her nose scrunching up in response as she snuggled closer to her pink rabbit.
We walked to the living room as to talk some more.
I loved hearing Spencer talk.
It was one of my favorite things about him; the way he rambled about random things.
Him and Penelope were definitely the reason why we figured so many cases out.
"Thanks again," I smiled, hugging him.
"Of course. I love Aaliyah. And I love hanging out with her. She's a lot of fun."
I smiled and then pulled away, grabbing my purse, then pulled out a fifty dollar bill.
Spencer's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What's this for?"
"For babysitting." I explained.
"No way. You don't need to pay me." he whispered.
I bit my lower lip, smiling softly. "Please. You've done so much."
Spencer's warm hand opened mine with the fifty dollar bill and gently forced my hand to close around it.
"Seriously, it's okay. I love being with Aaliyah. And I love helping you out. I don't want you to pay me."
I nodded reluctantly after a moment, putting the money back in my bag.
"Well then," I began, smoothing his sweater vest out underneath my palm. "How can I repay you?"
I looked up at him through doe-eyes, biting my lower lip softly. Spencer noticeably gulped.
God, he's so cute.
"W-wh- uhm," he cleared his throat, laughing softly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I began, our bodies slowly closing the gap between us. "I'll do anything you want me to do in order to repay you." my voice was a whisper as I wrapped my hand around the bottom of Spencer's tie.
Spencer swallowed thickly once more, his eyes peering through a half-lidded gaze; his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Before I or we could say another word, his lips were on mine. My whole entire body seemed to light aflame, the adrenaline and small amount of alcohol I consumed fueling the fiery kiss.
Lewd, wet noises sounded throughout the living room of my apartment as I pulled Spencer in closer, our tongues twining together then softly massaging one another. His hands hovered above my hips before I placed one on my ass and the other on my hip bone. He whimpered softly.
His hand that sat on my hip bone ran up the side of my torso very gently as we kissed, his other hand on my ass squeezing it softly. I hummed into his mouth at the feeling. I pressed my body against his as my hand cupped his neck, my neck recoiling at how intensely we were kissing.
I made my way to sucking on the skin of his neck and jawline, his hands now fully on my ass as he experimented with squeezing it; his breath hitching in his throat and his eyes closed.
I felt him hard against my thigh, our heated kisses so intoxicating that we were gasping into each other's mouths. We were so into one another that I didn't even realize Aaliyah had snuck downstairs and had cleared her throat. She did it louder this time and I gasped before pulling away.  A blush creeped onto Spencer's cheeks. He looked so beautiful and ruined. His lips were red and slick, his hair was tousled, and his glasses were astray on his face. Kiss stains and my red lipstick marked his neck; the makeup practically as red as the blush that sat on the apples of his cheeks.
"A-Aaliyah. Hi, baby," I stammered breathlessly, combing my fingers through my hair. "Why are you up so late, my love?"
Aaliyah dodged my question and in turn focused her attention on Spencer, a smile brimming at her lips.
"Are you my new daddy?"
Oh my god.
"Oh, god," I muttered, laughing nervously before picking my daughter up and kissing her cheek. Spencer laughed along, seemingly happy at the question.
That's a relief.
I bit my lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing before taking Aaliyah upstairs, and tucking her in bed.
I ran back down, hoping to see Spencer, however, he was gone. I felt my heart drop in my chest.
Damn it.
I ran out of my apartment, seeing the young doctor fixing his hair as he walked to the elevator.
"Spencer!" I called after him, and I saw relief wash over his features. Before saying another word, I planted a kiss on his lips. I pulled away, our faces decorated with smiles. "Thank you. Maybe we could do something like this some other time? Preferably.. alone?"
The genius laughed softly, his face still adorned with a blush. "That sounds great. But then we are going to have to search for a babysitter somewhere else."
"That sounds like a good idea." I laughed before our lips met once more into soft kisses.
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smelted-applejuice · 3 years
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Babysitting Duty.
Parings; c!Sapnap x Reader (PARENTAL), c!BadBoyHalo x Reader Pronouns; she/her Desc; You’ve never been great with kids, you dont know why your boyfriend thought it would be great for you to babysit. You haven’t even met the kid!
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requests are open!! -
[YourName] was asleep peacefully in her warm bed, not a worry in the world, until there was a loud banging on her door. She did her best to simply ignore the noise, but then she heard keys and the front lock unlock, and then she knew exactly who it was. [YourName] groaned, placing a pillow on top of her face and flopped onto her stomach, hoping if she simply ignored her boyfriend, he wouldn’t bother her too much. Maybe Bad had left something last time he visited and he was simply picking it up!
Her thoughts would be proven wrong when she heard her bedroom door open and weight on her back. “What the-” [YourName] groaned, she felt the pillow get picked up and thrown beside her, “Wakey, wakey!” Bad’s voice said gently. [YourName] tried to bury her head into her bed but felt her hair get pulled, “What the hell!?” [YourName] yelped. Bad gasped “Sapnap, you know better, no tugging hair.” he scolded picking up whatever weight was on your back. [YourName] went through her mind trying to figure out who Sapnap was.
[YourName] gasped, “Bad, if I lift my head and your child is in my room, I swear.” she deadpanned. Bad’s nervous laughter filled the room as [YourName] looked over, and there was Bad with a young toddler in his arms, “Bad! You should’ve told me-” [YourName] complained moving quickly and sitting up. She was obviously still in her nightclothes, but it didn’t stop Bad from placing the active toddler into his girlfriend’s lap, “I’m not even good with kids.” [YourName] said, glancing down at Sapnap who was slobbering on his hand.
“Nonsense, dear! You just need practice, and this is a perfect opportunity.” Bad cooed, [YourName] huffed but then realized what he meant. “What?! No! No way am I babysitting! I’ve never met the kid so I don’t know his interests, or what time he likes to eat!” [YourName] said panicked, Bad shrugged “He’ll tell you! He can’t talk, but he knows how to sign ‘eat’!” he said trying to ease his girlfriend’s worries “It’s not as bad as you think, dear!” he finished placing both of his hands onto her shoulders. “Want to explain why I am placed on babysitting duty?” [YourName] asked looking tired, her eyes were lidded and she had her arms wrapped around the slobbery toddler.
Bad swayed side to side, placing his hands behind his back as he did so, “Well, ya know- uhm..” he stumbled over his words for a moment. “I told Skeppy he could have the next two weeks off from babysitting Sapnap, but I didn’t account for the fact I still was needed in the Nether..” Bad confessed, [YourName] chuckled and shook her head trying her best not to laugh at him. “Know what, it’s fine, I don’t mind babysitting Sapnap- just nervous.” [YourName] replied in hopes it would relax her boyfriend’s worries about his son, “Anyways, he will be my step-son of the sorts one day.” she added winking toward Bad who nodded despite the flustered look he had on.
[YourName] offered Sapnap back to Bad so she could get ready for the day. Bad sat at the end of [YourName]’s bed and watched as she exited the bathroom fully dressed and then sat down to do her hair, “If I end up liking kids because of this..” she mumbled as she did the last touch-ups. Bad couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft conversation she would have with herself, it was always such a sight to see. He kept his hands on his son’s waist as Sapnap blanched on his thighs and slightly jumped in his spot gurgling at [YourName].
“Good, he likes me” [YourName] joked, happily taking the toddler out of her boyfriend’s hands. She placed Sapnap on her hip as she walked with Bad to the front of her house once more. “I’ll be back in a few hours, I promise. Before dinner.” Bad explained, kissing Sapnap’s head before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss upon [YourName]’s lips. [YourName] smiled and nodded, “Alright, we’ll see you then, be careful.” she reminded, watching her boyfriend leave before shutting the door.
Bad had truly come in clutch, on her couch were all of Sapnap’s necessities, puffs, food, toys, god he had it all! “Your daddy does not play games with you, huh?” [YourName] mumbled placing Sapnap on her living room floor, she gave the kid some toys and rushed to her kitchen to put her breakfast in the microwave and returned just as fast as she left. “Good, haven’t set anything on fire- I’m watching you kid, I’ve heard stories.” [YourName] said jokingly glaring at the toddler, Sapnap simply giggled and hid his face before returning focus on his ghast toy.
[YourName] shook her head, grabbing her food and returning to the floor. She and Sapnap would chill on the floor for a few hours, but after watching Sapnap nearly melting the plastic off of one toy and throwing a hissy fit, he finally gave in to his needs and placed his fingers together before pointing to his mouth with them. [YourName] sat there for a second squinting her eyes trying to figure out what the child was trying to say.
“HUNGRY! YOU’RE HUNGRY!” [YourName] said, snapping her fingers as she stood up quickly, she grabbed some food out of Sapnap’s bag. Sapnap watched [YourName] with a deadpan look as she scattered around to get a good spot to feed him, he crawled over and knocked some puffs off the table and kept himself busy until he was picked up and moved to a different location. Sapnap pouted at first, reaching for the little puffs he had dropped, [YourName] just scoffed, “No, Sap, they’re dirty, gross, disgusting… Uhm.. The feeling people feel when your daddy says ‘language’ at them.” she rambled.
She knew Sapnap had no idea what she was talking about, but still, one-hundred percent went with it. She couldn’t help but smile when she successfully fed Sapnap some warmed-up chicken bits, and it made her, even more, happier when Sapnap lightened up with each bite. He got some peach yogurt too which seemed to make up for the loss he had earlier with his puffs. After he was done, [YourName] took him out of his spot and let him crawl out the rest of his energy.
Finally came the part of babysitting she always dreaded, it was changing a diaper. She laid Sapnap out, and after many attempts of him escaping she got him to relax. “Pee on me, I dare you, you’re gonna see a whole different side of me, man.” [YourName] mumbled wrapping up Sapnap and changing his onesie, she picked up the kid and placed the dirty diaper in the trash can. Sapnap showed no signs of being tired and it was a little after eleven, nearly noon. He must’ve been up for, at most, an hour before coming over, so it’s been a good almost five hours.
“When do you nap?” [YourName] asked, scrambling around the kitchen making herself lunch, she glanced at the kid who just threw his head under her chin. “Mmm, now?” She asked, he shook his head, so [YourName] just nodded and finished up her lunch. It wouldn’t be until after she ate and did a few chores that Sapnap began to get fussy, so it was most definitely nap time! “Look, I could go for a nap too, Sap. Let’s get our nap on.” [YourName] said trying to compromise with the toddler.
[YourName] gently placed Sapnap down and placed a pillow next to him before crawling under her covers with Sapnap and letting the child cuddle up to her. [YourName] couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she gently ran her fingers through his black hair. “You’re so sweet..” She whispered placing a kiss against his hair, and within minutes the two were out. Sapnap would move onto his back while [YourName] kept a gentle hand on him at all times, too anxious to let the child go even as she slept.
About an hour later, Bad would come back. He had finished up earlier than he thought and thought he would get Sapnap off [YourName]’s hands now. After a few knocks and no answer, he unlocked the door himself and made his way through the house. Sapnap’s bag was opened and toys were scattered around the living room, and in the kitchen, the plastic baggy and tub that held Sapnap’s lunch were emptied, so he knew his child was well fed and played with. After more looking around, he made his way into the back and smiled at the scene in front of him.
He wished he had the ability to photograph the moment, it made him melt from the inside out just seeing [YourName] and Sapnap bond how they have today. The messy house told the whole story and he was overjoyed. He simply stripped of his boots and took his weapons off along with his glasses and crawled in behind [YourName], he held her close while [YourName] backed up against him embracing the added warmth Bad provided. Bad smiled at [YourName]’s hand lifting up and down, hearing Sapnap sigh heavily he leaned over and kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, placing his hand gently on top of her’s. He would fall asleep, the view in front of him coaxing him into the most peaceful nap he had have in a long time.
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petri808 · 3 years
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Prompt- Marking/Monster fucker @bkdkkinktober Day 5
Izuku woke up with a start, hand clutching over the heart racing frantically in his chest to the darkness of a witch’s hour. The sheen of sweat coating his body glistened in the moonlight flowing over his bed, and his breathing raggedly trying to find normalcy in the pungent scent of sex still lingering in the air. But how if this was just a dream? A dream perhaps, yet the strongest since they’d started two weeks ago. The sticky dampness between his thighs indicating anything but fiction.
A slight breeze through the window sent shivers along Izuku’s body still sensitive to the touch… the touch— his touch… The red eyes and blonde shadow emblazoned behind his eyelids. Who was he? This thing, this person haunting his dreams and sending his body into realms of ecstasy night after night to leave him wanting and drained the next morning. He couldn’t wait to get back to bed after a long day of work, ready for more like a drug addict jonesing for their next hit.
“I want more…” Izuku whimpered into the silent room. Of strong hands dominating his toned frame, sharp nails… or were they claws? Regardless, the way they dug into his skin and controlled his hips forcing him to behave… Izuku reached into his boxers and began stroking his cock through this trip down memory lane. “Yes…” he whined, “more, I want more…” of heated bodies entwined, feeling so safe below that scarlet gaze, yet frozen by their stare— and the bites… he remembered the canines that sent his heart stuttering. Izuku paused mid-stroke to reach up to his nape. Yes, the tenderness was there again, but skin still unbroken.
To experience being filled and fucked by this gorgeous dream man. Damn, he’d do anything to make this real! Take him, mark him, a willing slave if it meant nights of endless bliss! “Please—” Izuku groaned. “Be real…”
Each night that passed by left Izuku craving more, and body left spent and tired the next morning. He didn’t know how dreams could cause so much exhaustion, but the intensity was definitely increasing. The logical part of his brain knew damn well this wasn’t good for him, too bad his lonely heart was winning the fight.
“Y-Yeah, I’m heading out right now sir— literally running out the door as we speak… Yes, Mr. Aizawa, I know it’s the second time this week I’ve been late, I… I need to get a new alarm, I think mines broken— oh… of course, sir, I’ll grab that on my way to the office for you.”
As he rushed out of his apartment, Izuku clicked off the phone, repeating his bosses order. “Double macchiato, add cinnamon, double macchiato add cinnamon, don’t forget— OOF!” The phone went flying out of Izuku’s hand as he smacked right into a solid object and bounced back, falling on his ass. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorr—” Izuku gasped.
“Tch. What a way to welcome your new neighbor.” The stranger held out a hand to help Izuku up. “Just be more careful next time.”
“R-Right,” Izuku stammered, “sorry, mister?”
“Katsuki Bakugou.”
“Mr. Bakugou, thank you— I-I mean sorry, again!” Izuku bowed before rushing away.
Blonde hair, red eyes… It couldn’t be! This was the first time he’d met his obviously solid flesh neighbor, so there was no way he could’ve dreamt up the beefcake! “Couldn’t be,” Izuku mumbled to himself. The man was very new, moved in maybe a week ago… ‘right around the time the dreams started escalating…’ He shook his head. Ridiculous. Those were dreams and this man was real— they couldn’t be linked. By the time he got to work, Izuku put the whole event out of his mind and focused on his job before he lost it.
A guy that hot was out of his league, so why not just live in his dreamworld?
“Ka…cchan…” The name wisps out from Izuku’s lips as clawed hands guided the sharp rocking of his hips, ground firmly over the man’s cock. “I can’t—” Izuku whined, legs trembling and starting to give out. “Please…” It was the first time of any of the dreams that the mystery lover had him doing the work.
But in the blink of an eye, Izuku found himself on his back once more, his lovers low grunts to his moans echoing as he was filled over and over in rapid succession. The man’s face stayed buried in the crook of his neck— till a cry rang out, Izuku’s own from fangs sunk deeply into his skin. Familiar, delicious white-hot ache flowing through his system, sending stars flashing beneath his eyelids, and red glowing eyes burning in his mind, filling his soul with a sense of wholeness his life was lacking.
“Mine…” the male growled, “forever…”
Forever…
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
“Ahhhh!” Izuku shot up in bed, drenched in the familiar sheen of sweat to the sound of a blaring alarm. “Fuck!” He groaned and dropped back down. Stupid alarm! But as amazing as these dreams were, they were seriously starting to drive him insane. His days were turning into endless cycles of unfulfilling work and fornication, work, and fornication— with a physical emptiness left in its wake.
As routine, he touched the painful spot on his neck expecting the same thing he’d endured for weeks— but this time, something wet and tacky hit his fingertips. “What the?”
Izuku scrambled to his bathroom, and there in the mirror— two fresh puncture wounds… a gasp broke free. “Oh, my god—”
That was the first time the dream blonde spoke to him. It’s deep raspy voice sending shivers through his body just thinking about it. But it was so embarrassing to walk into work with a large bandage on his neck to hide the wound! Lots of snickering and questions of who the lucky guy or girl must have been to mark him with a hickey. If only it had just been a hickey! All the other nights left the area tender for just a few minutes, and no evidence, but today the damn thing still throbbed. This was all becoming way too real for Izuku— and frankly, scared him a little. ‘Forever…’ The thought had even crossed his mind that someone was simply breaking in every night, but there was never any proof.
So, as he crawled into bed that Friday night, the throbbing spot on his neck a reminder, Izuku set his alarm to go off at 3am. If there was any truth to this nightly visitor, he was bound to catch him if could break free from the dream. This was it! He had to know what the hell was going on!
Izuku twisted in his bed, whimpering under the lustful gaze of his dream lover. “No, please…” he shivered as the long tongue teasingly flicked the tip of his over sensitized cock. His body was still coming down from a high that had left a sticky mess plastered all over his torso.
“Say it,” the husky voice demanded.
“Forever…” Izuku breathed out.
With a grunt, red eyes flashed, centered, and drove its cock all the way into Izuku. Growling, “forever mine,” as he leaned over to suckle the man’s mark with licks and tortured kisses. Each touch ignited the same soul-stealing connection that kept Izuku trapped and begging for more. Powerful hips rocked in measured cadence, filling the man over and over to finish what it’d started.
Izuku���s back arched and legs clamped around his lover’s waist, nails digging into the man’s shoulders as heat swirled and a familiar smoky scent grew in the room. He sensed his lover’s climax, could feel it coming like a sensor knowing a storm approached. Their connection… it felt so real… so good— different this time. Peaceful, no pain… “forever…” Izuku mewled as darkness overtook him.
The distant sounds of morning slowly crept into Izuku’s consciousness. Soft bird chirping, the muffled roar of cars on a nearby street. He moved to bury his face in his pillow to block the sunlight, shifting his body from its side to his stomach— only he couldn’t. Izuku’s eyes pop open as the awareness hit. He wasn’t alone. Without moving his head, his eyes looked down at what was around his waist and saw arms, hands— someone’s hands?! Wait! His alarm hadn’t gone off either!
He forced himself to shift so he could see who was spooned up behind him and found blonde hair. The neighbor?! Izuku screamed at the sleeping male. “What are you doing here?! How’d you get into my apartment?!”
“If you’re gonna wake up your mate, a good morning would’ve been nice.” Katsuki mumbled against Izuku’s back. “After all I’ve done for you.”
“Y-You? I, w-wait, the dreams, h-how?!”
“Shhh,” Katsuki clamped a hand over Izuku’s mouth. “Go back to sleep, talk when I’m up.”
“Maft?!” Izuku mumbled back.
“Forever, remember? I need more sleep, now shush.”
“I wilf nats sh— ahhh—”
A blinding white light hit Izuku’s mind again, followed with a dull ache in his neck as Katsuki’s mouth clamped over the mate mark on his neck. “Oh, my kami—”
“Now do you believe me?”
Izuku looked over again at Katsuki’s face and noticed the man’s eyes were glowing red and fang tips glinted from his mouth. “F-Forever?”
“Forever.”
It was all real, and yet somehow… maybe this wasn’t so bad after all...
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