#for your information the spit and teeth being really detailed is the point

[medicalunprofessional]

#caligosto loboto #nightmaretheater #Ughhhhhi feel.Like sludge #time on canvas : 12 hours (i was agonizing.Sorry) #sorry but The Hard Tests are getting to me…Ill befine tho.. #partially a study of a pic i took of myself #for your information the spit and teeth being really detailed is the point #also its hot. explode if disagree #the hand is a bit akward but oh well #oh! 🝤! my favourite!!!

[darkdemeter]

ONE AND THE SAME, LONELY AND AFRAID

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

—- not my gifs, found on pinterest, credit to original posters! -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

I dunno what to really say about this piece, brain just switched into angsty, (kinda fluffy?) writing mode and I went with it.

Therapy — angst — hurt comfort? — (introverted) reader — insecurity warning — semi-established mutual pining/interest — strong language — socially awkward bean reader — basically reader has a lot of reservations about things that involve other people, more of a self isolated type — self sabotage — we got a mutual-semi happy ending — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

You've always opted to be alone. Recent visits to Dr Raynor, however, work to bring down those walls you hold up. Little are you aware that someone you're talking to is very much the same as you. Lonely and afraid.

────────────────┘

7.6K(words)

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl

────────────────┘

 “Have you been keeping up with the exercises I gave you?” 

  Already she knows the answer. Not even three seconds can you maintain eye contact, eyes feeling glassy each time you near the braving point. It’s futile. People can hear what you’re saying right? Why the need to have your eyes glued to them?

  Your shoulders shove up weakly and Dr Raynor rhythmically paces the pen’s butt against her notebook. 

  “That’s a no,” she sighs, “I gave you those exercises to help you. Eye contact, let’s start with that again: what do you find so intimidating about it?”

  The air is so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your gaze is still glued to a random place on the wall behind her. That is the closest you can give her today. 

  Her lips push together and her eyes thin in that way you assumed all of these doctors do, a tactic to unnerve you into squeezing out the details. To weed out the problems. You don’t like it. Your fingers are crushed in the grip of your other hand sitting in your lap idly. 

  Again, you shrug. “Just that. Intimidating. It’s… a lot.”

  “There’s more to it for you. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that, it terrifies you when someone looks at you. Focuses their attention on you.”

  “Maybe it’s something like that…” You tilt your head slightly. “Maybe it’s not.”

  I don’t like being here. I just wanna go. I still have fifteen minutes. 

  “Your family is worried about you. You have a tendency to be self isolating. Reserved. They’re concerned that you’ve been alone.” She’s spitting words at you. Family concerns have always been the bane of your lonely ways. Their constant insistence to put yourself out there, to go out on at least one date. 

  Try to talk you into meeting people they know, saying that they will be good for you. All because they’ve grown far too comfortable with being with someone, that they can’t stand to be alone themselves. And then, they have to project that onto you. 

  “It’s a choice.”

  “What can you tell me about your intimate life? Partners, significant others.” 

  The jutting of your pouty lip is any indication that a cheeky remark is right on the edge of your tongue. She stops you right before you can say a word. 

  “Stuff toys and pets do not count.”

  “But they’re companions. You wanna know about my companion life, right?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  It takes another five minutes. Pure and slow in time, each waver of the ticking hands beats another seconds off the appointment. But it’s not fast enough for your liking. Tongue tracing the curves of your gums and teeth, you contemplate. 

  Dr. Raynor says your name to draw your attention back - escaped into the cosmos - now forced right back into the couch in her office. 

  “Seeing someone? Talking to anyone?”

  “Sure.”

  “Anything else?” She raises a gesturing hand, a silent command for you to speak further. To give her further information. Personal information that’s yours. Safe in your head. There’s no point giving that out to others.

  “Just talking to him is all.”

  “So neither of you have met in person before?”

  Lips rolling inward, thinning, you shake your head. “No.”

  Your name is drawn from her lips as a low sigh. She scrawls something down in her notebook, albeit a little aggressively. 

  “Money is being wasted each and every time you come in here, sit on this couch and say nothing. Resolve nothing. Time is being wasted, time you could be spending out there, actually bonding with someone who you may call a friend or a significant other.”

  “I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

  Her eyes roll up to meet yours, the split second you manage to meet her eyes, you see the scrutiny. The disdaining judgement and patience that wanes thin for every drop of time in the remaining minutes left. 

  “That wasn’t even two proper seconds,” she notes, “and yet, you come to your sessions each time.”

  “Because if I don’t, then that same concerned family chews my ear off about it.”

  Another two minutes pass by. You count the ticking hands slowly. Far too slow. When will this fucking nightmare end? Dr. Raynor continues to pounce her pen on the pad’s paper, the sound a distant, drumming beat. 

  “From what I’ve gathered, your siblings all have partners of their own, some of them beginning to grow their families. Am I correct?”

  You nod as your teeth sink into the inside of your lip. “Right in the ballpark.”

  “And you are so comfortable with being alone because it’s all you know. You’re afraid of letting someone in. You rather keep your guard up than ever risk giving someone a chance to love and accept you. I have another patient just like that. Shut off from the world and distrusting.”

  It’s like she read your mind. You almost applaud her for her scooby doo investigation. “Wow, way to keep the confidentiality, Doctor,” you breeze through a forced, tight smile, eyes still cast to somewhere else in the room. “It’s better to keep people at arms length. Easier to detach from.”

  “And is that what you’re doing with this guy? Keeping him at arm’s length?”

  “Sure. I guess.”

Three minutes remaining. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

It’s almost over. 

Then it lingers on your mind… “Tell me because I’m curious, but why are people obsessed with the idea that being alone is such a bad thing?”

It’s closing in on one minute. A single minute she has to deliver you an answer. Of course, usually she disregards questions like this. But today, she indulges. Maybe, just maybe, this is your way of breaking through to her. To finally and truly give her something to work with.

  “I will tell you what I told another patient of mine. Being alone is the most quietest and personal hell someone can endure.”

The chiming of the appointment’s bell signifies its end. You’re eager to stand up from the couch but Dr. Raynor holds a hand up. “Before you go running off back to your lonely hell, I want you to perform at least one exercise.”

  At first, you mean to brush her off, your eyes refuse to meet the piercing stare you know is burrowing into your soul, seeking you out in the darkness of your reservations. “Alright. Sure…”

  “If you’re interested in this guy, I want you to make the first move and ask to meet up with him. Begin to lower your walls.”

  You’ve done it. Just as she asked of you. In hindsight, you should have just ignored her. In honesty, it’s been a while since your heart has bruised your ribs with such intensity in its anxious rage. What if he said no? Neither of you had ever really flirted heavily or indicated that you were head over heels, eager to see each other. 

  As if you both just knew, you were each settled comfortably in this mutual exchange of words. No video, no voice messages or calls. Just words. Conversations about work, some random things happening during the week and other topics people chat about. 

  You were meant to feel brave in that moment. To feel invigorated as you take that daring leap of faith outside the comfort of your own space. A safety net you had taken great care to curate, to save yourself from ever falling to the ground with no will to get back up. 

  In your mind, you’ve seen your siblings go through enough failed relationships that it in some strange way, you’ve experienced it on some outside level. You’ve gained the knowledge that if you let someone - a stranger - in then they will find a way to hurt you one way or another. 

  But what about that lucky person? That destined soulmate everyone raves on about. Could you really stand going through failure after failure, after seeing the damage it caused your loved ones? 

  Why risk it? I’m just putting a target on my heart that says “hurt me, please!”.

  However, with the following silence after, you believe you had your answer. He wasn’t interested in you. He just wants to remain mutuals. You understand that, you accept it wholeheartedly. It saves you from getting hurt, from him getting hurt and that’s all that matters.

  Having your heart broken because you allowed love to blind you to rational thought isn’t something you’re wanting to bring to one of your appointments. 

  Around ten minutes later he responded. His answer leaves you in a state on the bathroom floor, on your arse, back pressed against the sink cabinets and your chest heaving for any amount of oxygen. The world’s closing in around you, it’s turning against you. Eyes watering until your waterline is drowning and blurry, your hands rake through your hair and grasp at the roots.

  The olive branch you extended is received by him whilst your mind spirals into the pools of doubt and sabotage. He’s accepted your bold invitation.

  How can I go on a date? I can’t keep eye contact, I don’t know how to act or what to say! 

  What do we talk about in person? How much is too much?

  Maybe it was a mistake. Would it be rude if you pretended it was a joke? You think it over once, then twice. It plays on repeat what you plan to say to get out of this ordeal you’ve now thrown yourself into. You get another notification that lights up your phone screen. 

    Be nice to finally meet you     7 tomorrow night sound good? ┗ 

    Sure! 7 sounds good heh ┗ 

   there’s a place not far from where I live I like to go to.. unless there’s somewhere else you wanna go ┗ 

Ugh, why does that sound so… so… desperate? I should probably call it off right now before this gets out of hand. 

   I’ll see you there Doll just name it ┗ 

  Your heart flutters at the nickname. It makes you feel childish and you cringe that you find yourself swooning over it, but every time he uses it, there’s something that makes you feel special. Like you’re the only one he calls that. After you text him the address, you pass the phone away, leaving it to sit on the sink’s edge. Hands cupping your face, the tears still seeping along the rim of your eyes with a fighting intent to be free. For so long you have kept them bottled up. 

  And now to be faced with this. You don’t feel ready to be doing this. Your fingers had been hovering over the keys, mind already texting that you had made a silly joke just to see how he’d react. But Dr. Raynor’s words from earlier that day crept into the forefront of your mind, stopping you in your tracks.

  ‘Being alone is the most quietest and personal hell someone can endure.’

“You haven’t been having nightmares lately. That’s good,” Dr. Raynor says, notebook sitting in absence on her folded leg, pen loose between her fingers. So far, she hasn’t had to write much. A few notes, a sentence or two. Overall, she sees a little more progress. Even if it’s just a little.

  “And the girl you’re talking with. Have you two been communicating much lately? Do you think that, maybe, she could be a benefiting factor?”

  “We’ve been talking,” Bucky answers with a nod, voice rumbly. “I don’t know.”

  “Your nightmares stem from the decades of trauma that still need to be thinned out of your system. And there are outlets that can help with the healing process. Nurturing relationships is one of them.”

  As if he hasn’t heard that line before. Being told to nurture his relationships.

  “Tell me more about her. What’s been going on between you both?” For a moment, Bucky remains quiet. His teeth roll his bottom lip, biting down before his lips part. Gaze once settled elsewhere, his eyes find hers with firm contact. 

  The type of contact she wishes she can see from you.

  “She’s asked to meet up. I’m seeing her tonight.”

  “I understand you two have been talking for a while. Around three months now, correct?”

  “Yeah.”

   “And… How does that make you feel? You finally have a chance to meet someone face to face and take this relationship to the next stage.”

  The question had come right out of the blue for Bucky. After a day out in the field with Sam, all he wanted to do was shower, have a beer and see if you had messaged him. And the conversation had carried out like normal with asking about each other’s day, followed by some playful banter. And then, Bucky was faced with the one topic that had been on his mind for the past few weeks, plaguing him with the idea of possibly meeting each other after all this time, to put a face to a name. 

  But to think that this could bridge into something further. Something far more intimate. Bucky’s shoulders push up with a heavy sigh. 

  “I dunno, Doc. I’ve been thinking about meeting her. But being by myself for so long now, it’s normal for me.”

  Dr. Raynor squares her shoulders, eyes staring point blank like the barrel of a gun at her patient. “A hurdler doesn’t avoid the obstacles. You have to take that leap, James, and explore these new possibilities before they slip through your fingers. From what you’ve told me, she sounds similar to you.”

  “And if things don’t go as I hope? If she pulls away?”

  “Then pull her closer. And give her the chance to pull you closer. Start to trust in someone outside of those walls.”

  You pace back and forth along the wide strip sidewalk, the night’s air chills you through your clothing. But at this point that could just be the nerves. Why did you have to be bold, why did you have to actually listen to Dr. Raynor? Arriving just a little before the agreed time, you took the time to rehearse things over. Maybe squeeze in a little practice before you make a complete idiotic display of yourself. 

  By now, you guess it’s just past 7. How the hell are you supposed to know who he is if you’ve never seen one another before? Man, now that you think about it, you really didn’t think this through. 

  Last time I do any of these fucking exercises…

  Quickly stealing a glance down at your phone to get a read on the time, you see you’ve received no message yet. 

  Maybe he… changed his mind last minute?

  Well that really makes you look like an idiot. Shit, you really could slap yourself into tomorrow for getting baited into your own doings. You barely register the thrumming heart of a motorcycle’s engine roaring down the street beside you, purring lowly to a stop. 

  You shrug to yourself suddenly, the leaping of your heart coaxing your anxiety to grow further, as doubt shrouds over. Your feet shuffle to carry you back in the direction of your favourite ice cream joint. Might as well pick up a little frosty snack on the way back home.

  “Okay, I’m stupid. He’s not— oop–!” Someone is the poor victim of your distracted escape, their body is large and broad, arms circling around you to catch you from tripping onto the hard concrete. 

  “Oh, shit! Sorry!” you groan, eyes quick to seek out a face only to glimpse away as soon as you note the intensity of bright blue; gaze focused solely on you as if you were the only thing that existed. 

  “All good,” he says. His voice only brings to shake you, slightly husky and the oh so perfect pitch. You do your best to straighten yourself and from his hold, out of habit, you’d grown used to not being touched unless you were the one to initiate it. A skill - or rather lack thereof - you’re not very proud of. Not that members of your family made it any easier whenever they pointed it out. 

  Distant. Closed off. Stiff. 

  “You okay?” he asks. 

  “Yeah, yeah, I was… just uh, was meeting up with a guy.”

  “Hmph, me too,” he breezes with a deep exhale. You try to ignore the way your peripheral picks up on his body’s outline moving. “She wanted to meet here.” 

  “Huh, good spot. One of my small hang out spots.” Your balled fists only curl tighter into the pockets of your jacket as another chilling wind attacks your body. Maybe you should settle on a hot beverage instead of some ice cream. 

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Really nice.”

  You both stand idle by one another, the air beginning to lace heavily with the tension of your interaction, both awkward in your butting spaces. Bucky spares a more studying glance at you. A sleeveless, cropped turtleneck with a leather, hooded jacket layering over, you opted to keep the palette simple with your dark, skinny jeans and heeled boots. 

  You looked dressed up to be on some casual date. Whoever it was you were waiting on was a lucky guy, Bucky thought. In no disrespect to the girl he was messaging, but he figured he would have shot his shot with you had it not been for this mystery girl. 

  “You hang around here a lot?” he questions to come off as casual and laid back as possible. 

  “Oh, sure. Yeah… I like it here.”

  Bucky finds himself smiling at your response. Strange, he figures, how you seem familiar. Still, he catches on that he hasn’t gotten a proper look at your face. It’s like you're purposefully avoiding looking at him. Did you know him? The aided curse of his sensitive hearing allows him to hear the rapid racing of your heartbeat, like a poor hamster terrified out of its mind. 

  You can feel him staring at you with the occasional glimpse down at his phone, held in his gloved hand. 

  “Goodluckwithyourdate. Bye.” You say it far too quickly, it takes Bucky a moment to decipher what you’ve said. His head snaps back and forth in a double take, catching you already walking down the sidewalk, huddled in close to shield yourself. How he knows that feeling internally. 

  Now you’ve gained his full attention. For Bucky, there was some missing piece to all this. He’s quick to type. Just a little experiment…

   Here, Doll, just waiting on you  ┗ 

His jaw tightens, teeth clenching in his observation. You stop when your phone buzzes to life in your pocket. Retrieving it, you read the message. Bucky only has to wait for about a minute before he sees the message. 

   Ha, I was here first. Where are you?? ┗ 

   You tell me Doll…  ┗

    you don’t happen to be wearing knitted gloves, right? ┗  

  Your brows furrow for a moment. How could he know, you haven’t even–

  Slowly, you lift your eyes from the blaring screen of your text messages. He now knew it and to think he’s the guy you were waiting on. If anything, this is some fortunate, golden strike. 

  As your gaze moves to fall over your half turned shoulder that faces back towards him, he manages to catch half of your visage and the radiant haven of your eyes, what little you allow to show. 

  “I take it you’re Y/N.” He smiles a toothy smile. With any luck, his attempt to charm will work. 

  “And you’re Bucky?”

  He nods in response and you let yourself wander forwards, phone tucked away and your arms folded together. 

  “I–I, uh… wow, this is embarrassing ,” you all but mutter to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

  “How so?”

  “I suck at meeting people,” you utter a little louder. Your shoulders shrug with the motion of your confession. You only dread the look in those blue eyes that you can’t bring yourself to glance up into. What if you see something that gives away his intentions? What if you give away what’s going on in your own mind to him, for him to see all the fear right there like an open book to be read. Knowledge to be obtained and used against you. 

  “Maybe if you looked at people once and a while,” he chuckles. 

  Oh… he likes someone who can maintain eye contact. 

  “Yeah, what a shame. Oh well, nice meeting you.” 

  The abruptness cuts him. Wounds him like a dark chill that runs his spine. His shoulders straighten then and the bevel between his brows grows in depth, the puzzlement of his confusion evident on his face that you don’t take the time to read. Not when he can easily catch contact with your now glossy eyes. 

  Again, you’re making off in a hurry. 

  Pull her closer, it’s the only thought that crosses his mind. 

  “Wait, wait up!” he calls out quickly, voice sharp that he sees your entire body flinch at the command, but you carry on. He doesn’t want to scare you away. His gloved hand cups over your elbow. 

  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says with a sigh, “I’m bad at meeting people at times too.”

  “Really?” You don’t mean to sound distrusting, if he interpreted it that way, each to their own at the end of the day. 

  “Yeah, that whole… dating scene is crazy these days.”

  You cannot find yourself more inclined to agree with that. Seeing how much the world has changed around you, and you’re only in your twenties. Plenty of more room to change. Thinking about the future is what you consider an anxiety inducing pass time, one you try not to get carried away with. 

  “Tell me ‘bout it,’ you huff. You flex your ankle, the heel scuffing softly against the pavement, hopefully grinding some form of inspiration to make you less awkward. Though you fear the damage has been done. 

  He chuckles. “Glad we’re agreeable in person. C’mon, mind giving me a tour of your little hang out?”

  “Sure,” you agree with a small smile, brushing aside a stray wisp of hair, “I know a little place up this way.”

  “I like your gloves,” Bucky says, clicking his tongue, when spared a moment he glances off to the side in his miserable cringe, what the hell was that move?

  But he didn’t expect for your chin to be raised a little higher and a much warmer smile to grace your lips. Wow, he still couldn’t get over it. A cute, beautiful girl like yourself happening to be the one he’s been communicating with all this time. 

  “Thanks.” You suppress a giggle, the sound small in your throat. “Look. Glove twins.”

  Seeing you raise your gloved hand up, he saves you from any further embarrassment and meets yours almost immediately, palms straight and pressed together in a mockery to a high five. 

  “Well, look at that.” His lips tug into an amused grin.

  For a second you meet his gaze, but as quick as anything, the connection is lost. As you drop your hand back to your side, you feel warmth creep into your cheeks. How your lack of eye contact can be a burden at times. All you want to do is look at this guy, get a read of him without the need to sneak fleeting glances whenever you could. 

  All you can settle on now is that he’s down right cute. Handsome. 

  No way this guy is single. How some chick could just give him a false number. My number. 

  You wander further down the street together, side by side, occasionally arms brushing against one another before you stop and jab a thumb at the small bar. “Here it is. Heh, quaint place. I, uh… like coming here. Obviously.”

  While he’s distracted with his observation, you take a few seconds to actually look at him.

  Casually dressed, so much like yourself. Chiselled features, intense yet stunning eyes you believe you’ve ever seen, and broad. Damn well towering high above you. Next to him, you feel like a gummy bear. Why that comparison, you have no idea, but you find it fitting. 

  Thus so far he doesn’t put himself as intentionally dangerous or harmful, not towards you anyway. You’d bet all that’s in your wallet he’d cause some serious damage if he wanted to. 

  “Nice little joint.” You hum softly and nod in agreement, eyes sinking low to instead scan the fabric of his jacket instead of his reaction when you know his gaze is on you. 

  You bob your head in the direction of the door, indicating him to follow you inside. But Bucky, if anything, was raised in the century of etiquette and manners. Especially in the company of a woman. Your smaller, gloved hand reaches for the door until his own comes forward, pulling the door open for you. 

  “After you, Doll.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  Again, that warm crimson settles in your cheeks, causing the rest of your body to heat up, soon enough you won’t need the gloves and jacket to keep you warm. 

You lead him over to a window booth, sliding in over the overworn cushions and he takes the one opposite you. Not too soon after does the regular waitress greet you with a pearly smile, blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. 

  “Y/N!” she gasps widely, “So good to see you. What can I get you and your man tonight?” She flashes a wink down towards you both. Out of sheer interest, Bucky’s eyes drift to land on you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly into a smirk. 

  “Wh– he, oh no, he’s not– we’re not… just the regular, thanks.”

  Tongue tied. You fucking hate situations that plant you on the spot, on your arse. Like an ungraceful landing after jumping the wagon. Fuck, you’re making yourself look even more weird in front of him. Why this sudden need to act like a normal human being around him is present, you find it confusing. But from trial and error, you’ve always somehow managed to mark yourself as a strange one. 

  It was better to keep things short between interactions. But with Bucky, something has come over you that makes you want to trust him. Be open with him. But you know you can’t. People can hide their true nature for lengths at a time that they deem necessary. You’re not about to give this guy a loaded gun to turn on you. 

  With a nod, the waitress nods and writes down in her notepad, she looks to Bucky expectantly. 

  “I’ll have what she’s having and can we get two beers with the order.” 

  “Can do. That will be with you both shortly.” With an affirmative nod, the waitress heads off to deliver the new order. 

  “If you just want to dip any time during… this, then I understand.” For the second time tonight, Bucky’s face contorts with deeply rooted confusion. His smile is the product of his being unsure whether you’re serious or joking. “Why would I do that?”

  Your shoulders move up sharply with a shrug. 

  Because you don’t want to be around me. 

  “I’m not leaving you by yourself. You asked to meet up and I’m here.” 

  Touching words that you wish to believe in them wholeheartedly. Surely though, he’s only saying that out of courtesy. 

  “I tend to stay out pretty late towards the weekend.”

 Now it’s his turn to shrug. “So do I.”

  Once the food and beers arrived, you found it easier to distract yourself, able to roll the bottle between your hands, feeding off of your meal bit by bit throughout conversation. 

  “Like I said before, don’t feel obligated to stay out late. Don’t want to keep your girl waiting.” A small tactic, albeit you disbelieve that it’s very discreet, it’s an obvious tell that you want to know if he’s single or not. You’re no expert in the dating pool but that just has to be right up there in some top ten listed prompts.

 “Not leaving you. I don’t have a girl waiting on me, don’t worry, Doll.” You almost choke on your next bite, drowning it down your throat with a gulp of beer. You almost meet his eyes, opting to focus just below them. There is absolutely no way in hell this guy is single. 

  Bucky figures he’d shoot his shot, now that the identity of mystery girl and you were one and the same. 

  “Hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind I’m stealing you for the night.”

   Why did he word it like that?!

  “Ha. Boyfriend,” you sigh, mouth pinching towards the side. Briefly, you notice the furrow in his brows. 

  Dammit, why is he so fucking cute?

  “No boyfriend,” he drawls lowly over the rim of his bottle. 

  You shake your head. “Nope.” 

  He can tell by the way you roll the singular word, emphasising the p with a sharp popping sound. Bitterness. 

  “Why?” He watches you intently as he takes a drink of his beer, meanwhile, you're turning your bottle left and right, like trying to crack the code to some safe. 

  Didn’t want to risk getting hurt. 

  “Just…” You pause with a heavy sigh, heat covers your eyes that you now direct to stare down at the table. “Never made the effort, if I’m honest.”

  “You like being alone.”

  “Prefer it, actually. Easier that way.”

  Of that, Bucky completely understands. After everything he’s been through, being alone has just made things simple. Lonely but simpler. He notices the many couples and maybe it would be nice to have someone there. But how can he find normalcy after everything he’s done? Is he deserving of it?

  He wants peace. Dr. Raynor believes that’s bullshit but she can’t understand that he wants peace for himself. To feel comfortable. Accepted. Perhaps loved, if any deity or supernatural entity from above condones it.

  But then, why are you so comfortable in your loneliness? He wonders about it.

  “My doctor keeps telling me to try and engage with people. Open up. That sort of shit.” 

  “Mine too.”

  Another funny coincidence you both find in each other. During your time talking over text, you both managed to find out you attended doctor appointments. Therapy and not by your own choice either. By some other force that dictated you needed help. 

  “People are so afraid of being alone these days. World’s dangerous, sure, but so are the people you thought you could trust. But people are desperate, I guess. They’ll risk it.”

    Bucky cannot help the way the corner of his eyes curl slightly, lips stretching into a pursed smile to contain his amusement as much as possible. 

  “What?” you ask, head tilting slightly, your eyes having now settled on the booth’s texture right over his shoulder. 

  He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “You often on the defensive when it comes to people?”

  “Have to be. Don’t know their intentions. Could be anything.”

  “And what about me?”

  You shrug again, gaze torn between meeting his and keeping it far, far away. “Like you said before, if I looked at people once and a while. But I can’t. So I’ll never know, I guess.”

  He frowns slightly at this. If your body language is telling him anything right now is that his question pushed you into a corner. You felt trapped when confronted by his curiosity. You didn’t answer him, not exactly, but if your response did anything it’s that you tend to avoid answering when you get pushed. 

  You don’t seem to be the overly aggressive type up front. But if backed into that corner, that is when you may very well lash out. A defensive tactic. A once victim tactic. 

  Both of you are pulled from the thicket of your scattered thoughts and silence when the waitress returns with the check. You begin to shuffle around in your pocket, obtaining your half of the meal when Bucky stops you. 

  “My treat,” he says and hands his money to the blonde worker. 

  “N-no, that’s okay. I’m fine with paying my side.”

  He tuts you with a shake of his head, eyes penetrating your very soul for the moment you meet it. 

  Don’t look at me like that please… heart’s going too fast. Just let me pay for my food. 

  “I was born and raised in a time that I pay for the date. Let me cover it.” 

  Not that you have much choice to argue. He’d already handed off the money and the waitress took away your finished plates and beers. 

  Your bottom lip curls outwards into a pout. You feel bad that he felt like he had to do that. For him to pay out more than what was required. 

  In that regard, he leans back slightly, chin held higher a little more. He believes he’s won this round. But if anything, you’re adamant to pay him back.

  “Here.” You slide the bill towards him, ignoring the way his eyes narrow slightly to your challenge. “Just accept it, please? I’ll feel better knowing I didn’t waste your money.”

  Reluctantly, he nods and accepts the money and you mumble a soft thanks. 

    Time flew by as you both wandered together, giving him a general tour of the area. Small bouts of banter passed between you both, and general topics of discussion like work and time passers were made to fill the void of silence. Even still, you kept everything at surface level, never really exploring any deeper thoughts, much like him. But those very rare glimpses were only brief glimpses into one another’s life. 

  At least you both could report to your respective doctors that you tried, still in the dark that Dr. Raynor was the host of your separate appointments. 

  Coming through the way you came you reach your initial meeting spot, the sidewalk more open with people now on their way back home at the later hour. 

  “No, Sam just talks too much,” Bucky grumbles in his chuckle, an amused grin forming on your lips. He could just make out the rows of teeth. 

  “Sounds like a fun guy.”

  “Definitely.” You hear the grumbling breathlessness in his tone. When he glimpses to his side he finds your eyes, quick to steal whatever he can get of those capturing colours that are far too swift to avert. 

  Fuck. Can’t even make it to five seconds. I’m getting nowhere with this eye contact exercise.

Following him, he leads you over to his bike and your eyes narrow curiously. So it was him that owned the motorcycle you heard earlier that evening. 

  “I guess this is where we part ways for the night.” You bounce your head in the direction of your place. “Was good finally meeting you, Bucky.”

  That didn’t sit well with him. A lot can happen on the walk back to your place and he didn’t feel completely ready to let you go for the night. Eyes tearing between you and his bike with quick thinking, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. He hoists a leg over his bike, straddling the seat and rolling his arm to beckon you closer. 

  “Why don’t we go for a quick ride? Then I’ll drop you home.”

  “Nah, besides I’ve never… I-I’m good. I like the walk home.”

  Bucky is quickly picking up a sort of pattern. Still, he can’t shake the need to just hang around you a little longer, nor the guilt he’d have for just leaving you. Chivalry at its finest, he shakes his head sternly, dismounting the bike, you see the way his body moves fluently with the action.

  Fucking stop doing that!

  Your mind is dancing two different dances. Rational thought and that bubbly, giddiness that often leads swooning victims into blinded trouble. 

  “Alright, we’ll walk together then.” 

  “Wait– you can’t just leave your–”

  He begins to lead you off in the direction you’d motioned to before. “I’ll come back for it.”

  “Bucky.” He sees the defiant pout and crossing of your arms. Indeed, a cute sight to behold.

  He smirks, and shit, you couldn’t meet anything above the bridge of his nose then, but did you admire what you could. 

  “It’s your call. We can either walk or take the bike.”

  He’s played a few rounds of this game already with you. Numerous times you’ve had to choose between one option or the other, a few of those being a tad embarrassing, but his assurance provided some semblance of comfort. 

  But what felt like a game before now feels like more than that now. Before it was fun, easy and not serious. This, however, was not a round you can simply forfeit from. It’s either option one or two. 

  Your chest expands with a large inhale. Blinking, you contemplate and weigh the options. “We’ll take the bike.” 

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make a rider out of you, Doll.” It didn’t help the flush that scorches and freezes your body simultaneously when he adds a wink to his witty flirtations. 

  You try to not let it get to you. Not to let goosebumps riddle your skin and send your nerves endings aflame. But he’s making it hard. He leads you back towards the bike and he grabs the helmet. 

  “Here, you can use this.” 

  You focus on the protective helm and though you mean to protest, worried about what he’d do about himself, he’s already tucking your head in. 

  You make a small noise as he wriggles it in place and through the visor, you can finally meet his eyes. 

  With the blacked out visor to shield your eyes, you finally and truly admire the - unfortunately muted - hue of blue that entrances you, intense as the hottest levelled flame. He’s smiling down at you.

  “How’s it fit?”

  “Good!” you call, giving him a thumbs up. He nods with that assurance and directs you to mount the bike behind him. But you’re going shy on him and he cocks his head slightly, brows knitted in their concern. 

  Even when you preferred to be the one to initiate contact, that didn’t mean you were used to or fond of it. What if you held him too tightly, or what if you touched him somewhere he wasn’t comfortable with.

  Mounting the bike behind him, you at first put about an inch or two of space between you both. “Get on closer.” 

  You fail to hide the mousey squeak when his hands pull at your thighs, tugging them forward until they rest against him, your hands find purchase on the broad space of his shoulders. 

  He does it cautiously, he seeks out your wrists when they slide down the scape of his back, and you - warily - let him pull them around his torso. He exhales slowly, giving himself a second to comprehend having your hold around him. Why does he feel this way? Now that he has you like this, he can’t bear to think about losing it.

  “Hold on tight now,” he instructs and with a heavy bob of your head, thanks to the helmet, he lets the engine purr to life and he feels your arms grow a little tighter. 

  Rolling the bike back a little, he lets a car pass by before he speeds off down the way, the bike’s roar pulses through your entire body until for sure you’ve gone numb and you only hold onto Bucky tighter. 

  The surge of adrenaline fills you until you’re on high, blood boiling hot in your veins as he flies through the traffic. For taking things usually at your own pace, it felt good to have a little speed kick in. 

  Taking a sudden turn to the left would have made you question your decision to take the bike - should have scared you - but it didn’t. Not with Bucky. For what feels like ages now, you feel that you can trust him.

  “How you doing back there?” he asks, straining his voice to yell over the bike’s power. You doubt very much he’d be able to hear you, not when you only just managed to hear him, you opt to nod your head vigorously. He feels it against the muscles of his back and his lips tug upwards. 

  Accelerating slightly more, he feels your body grow giddy, jostling a little as you laugh behind him while he weaves through traffic. It really shows that you’ve never been on a bike before now. And since that’s the case, he’s determined to make it an unforgettable experience. 

  With any wishful thinking, you’ll want to go for another ride with him. 

  Bucky puts the now overwhelmed engine to rest for a little while, all thanks to his plan to impress you. “Here we are.” He lets his eyes rake over the few story building, a little settlement of apartments, currently parked round back that shows a short paved walkway to your backdoor. Going through the front door was usually hectic with your neighbours, good people honestly, but after a tiring day it could get a bit much.

  This way, you could be left alone. 

  “This is me,” your voice says through the helmet. You dismount before him and unlike Bucky, your movements aren’t as well versed. But for him, that just adds to your charm. 

  You let him stand close to you as he retrieves his helmet, being gentle to pry it off. 

 Once that visor is gone, so too does your resolve to look into his eyes, the connection lost with the helmet’s absence.

  “Thanks for driving me home. I… had a good time.”

  “You’re welcome.” Bucky’s lips thin into a smile. This was it then, the end of your little outing together. He doesn’t want to come off strong but how can he be so sure that you’ll be so bold again? How long would he have to wait?

  That’s why he’s pulling you closer again. It may be scary but at this point, he’s willing to risk it, if it means to have another meeting with you. To see you again.

  “Well, goodnight Bucky. I’ll talk to you—” You’d only begun to turn towards the narrow walkway when you’re stopped. Pulled back until you’re practically flushed against Bucky’s front. He’s pressing something into the palm of your hand. Thin, like paper. Peering down, you see the bill you’d given him. 

  However, you don’t have any other choice when his other hand tilts your chin up. 

  Oh no.

  “Give me five seconds,” he breathes out, voice hopeful. Your chin trembles, only just able to look at him through your lashes, but even then your focus dives downward, but his fingers remain to keep your head from bowing. 

  “I-I can’t…”

  “You can. Take your time.”

  Why he’s doing this, you have no clue, and why he’s willing to be patient; it’s just downright confusing. Who in their right mind would have time for this? At times, you barely have enough time to deal with your own shit.

  To save himself from waiting for a literal eternity, you rip the bandaid, and you meet his eyes. No visor, no secretive glimpses here and there stolen. You stare straight up, right into those blues that can very well drown you. 

  Your lungs tighten and struggle to maintain a steady pattern, you feel the welling of tears glass over your eyes with each second you count. Slowly. 

  One… two… 

  His eyes remain gentle with you. Tender and kind. You’re not seeing anything… bad, like he wants to hurt you. he could be hiding it really well. But for yourself, you’re sure he can see every single rational and irrational fear, every painful memory in your teary eyes. Your vision begins to cloud, like the fight to stay above the crashing waves. 

  Three… four…

  Buck’s hand lowers slowly but you don’t register it. You can’t. It’s something that occurs in the background, unattuned to it. You see in those wonderfully coloured hues that he's just as haunted as you are or even more. 

  He’s lonely as you are. Afraid as you are. Shadows of his own past, you can see them. Made him into the person he is in front of you. And you can’t blame him, no matter what it is that haunts him. 

  You see a once victim in him just as much as you see in the mirror every morning. 

  “Same time next Friday?” he asks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. His chest expands as he holds his breath. 

  “Sure.” You share a smile between you two, cheeks glowing warm and bright red. 

  “I’ll pick you up.” 

  Him leaving the proximity of your personal space leaves you gasping for air, blinking the tears in your eyes rapidly, you watch him retreat to his bike. Until next Friday, you’d wait to see him then. 

  “Talk soon, Doll,” he calls out with a wave once he’s atop his vehicle. Looking at it now, you can still feel the vibrations in your legs. 

  “Mhm. Until then.” 

  You take your leave then, entering your apartment and shutting the door behind you in tandem with him riding off into the night. Planting your back against the door to ground you does little to affect, still you’re floating. 

  This new feeling welling inside your chest, a flutter in your stomach… It scares you. Is this feeling why people are afraid to be alone? You don’t know what to think. 

  All you do know is that you gave him ten seconds.

#treehouse taglist #the dark demeter writing catalogue #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #angst #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

Soulmatch™ — App-grade your love life! (final teaser)

pairing: huang renjun x reader

au/genre: smut, humor, fluff, angst, strangers to enemies to lovers...?, non-idol!au

characters: huang renjun, f!reader, best friend!Jaemin, best friend!Haechan, friend!chenle, renjun's parents

word count: 23k+ words

general warnings: mentions of cheating, men being dudes and dudes being bros, lack of communication, haechan is a milf hunter, trust issues, insecurities regarding relationships, hook ups, smoking, alcohol, mentions of vomit (nothing graphic or detailed, literally just the word), emotional manipulation..? past na jaemin x reader, implied past huang renjun x wong yukhei / lucas, toxic masculinity, daddy issues, donghyuck and jaemin talk very vulgarly, mentions of virginity, crying, heartbreak, more tba

smut warnings: ...hate sex...?, unprotected sex (nuh-uh!), fingering and oral (f receiving), face-fucking, switch!renjun, switch!reader (?), pet names, a lot of imagining sex, brief choking, more tba

synopsis: Renjun is a hopeless romantic. His goal is to meet his perfect match by the end of the year, maybe even his soulmate. The perfect solution: an experiment for finding love through an app, Soulmatch™. Renjun doesn't care who it is, as long as they're a perfect match, he thinks. But then you show up...

release date: september 10th 2023 (set an alarm, everyone)

a/n: i really love this so much. it's a bit different from what i usually do bc it has a real storyline! it's complicated (not really). i really poured my heart and soul into this. i love renjun so much. argh!

Taglist: @she-is-dreaming @nctzennikki09 @babyjenono @noonaisreading

open here for a sneak peek:

"A what for what?" Donghyuck asks, mouth as full of burger as Renjun's own, hence why he couldn't understand him the first time. Renjun holds up his hand, chews aggressively, then swallows hard.

"An experiment for finding love," he explains a second time, and the crease in between Donghyuck's eyebrows only seems to be getting deeper with every word that leaves Renjun's lips.

"What the fuck is that?" Donghyuck asks (assumingely, Renjun still can't understand him over the huge bite of patty and bun inside of his mouth).

"You give a whole bunch of information about yourself to the scientists, and they use some software to find your ideal partner," Renjun explains briefly. There's a bit more to it than just that, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Donghyuck's brain while he's eating.

"Pff, okay?" Donghyuck says, a few crumbs of- whatever that had been only mere seconds ago flying out of his mouth and directly onto Renjun's forearm. The older contorts his face in utter disgust, shaking the sticky pieces of food off of his skin.

"You're a pig, Donghyuck," Renjun states, wiping the spot with his napkin because he can still feel Donghyuck's saliva on himself.

"I might be a pig, but at least I got game." Donghyuck finally swallows, grinning proudly with a small piece of lettuce stuck in between his teeth which Renjun has yet to decide telling him about after that insult.

"You don't have 'game'," Renjun spits, fingers motioning quotation marks, "you just have low standards. You'd fuck everything that bends over in front of you."

"That is not true!"

"Need I remind you of what happened with Chenle's mom?"

"She is a milf!" Donghyuck whines, letting his hands weakly fall down onto the table.

"Whatever." Renjun sighs. "Point is: I'm not lacking game, I just want to wait for the right person."

#renjun smut #renjun fluff #renjun angst #renjun fic #nct renjun #renjun #nct dream renjun #huang renjun #renjun x reader #i love renjun #huang renjun smut #nct #kpop #smut #nct fanfic #kpop smut #fem reader #nct dream #nct x reader

[blank-slate-jay]

In Need

Joel Miller x Male!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

Tags:Angst,Violence(Blood),Comfort, Soft!Joel

Request: "Long story not so short reader's the one to encounter David, he gives Joel the medicine, reader is the one who kills David. Joel and Ellie find him, Joel seeing that he went outside alone, he killed someone for the first time and basically put himself at risk just to take care of Ellie and to prove Joel that he isn't cargo and obviously Joel fucking breaks because the guy he's in love with did all this shit to keep safe the two people he cared for the most and didn't give his life any value even before that. Reader was always behind to warn them if something was gonna attack, or to defendem with his body first and Joel didn't notice until that moment."

A/N: This prompt has a lot of angst and I love it! Has some slow build up so I really hope this is what you wanted anonymous, Enjoy!

“Where, WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!” Joel screamed. His growl was enough to shake the wooden walls and it definitely rattled Ellie, who had her gun pointed at their second hostage tied up against the table.

Joel was furious, with his injury, with the lack of information, and most importantly, your absence. Ellie had told him everything about the raiders, how they came to kill him, how you acted as bait to lure the ruffians away from the town. Ultimately you failed and were captured. He didn’t need to know all the details, just hearing Ellie recite this to him was enough to get him off his deathbed, away from the cold mattress.

The man Joel had in his grasp, screamed out as the knife drove deeper into the man’s knee. “I don’t know…” he cried in anguish. Joel didn’t give a damn, whipping the man’s head back to get him to focus on his words. “Where. Is. He?”Joel's voice is much lower but just as menacing as before.

“They…” the raider muffled, “..there…there’s a town.”

“What TOWN?!”

His screams were enough to cause the second man on the floor to shift, Ellie positions her gun in line with the man’s head. “Leave him alone man, I can tell you where it is. It’s-”

Joel yelled again, “Shut up,” pulling the knife out from the man’s knee. Just on the small table next to him was a map, he grabs it while shoving the knife’s handle into the man’s mouth. “Point to where it is. It better fuckin’ match up with your buddy.”

The man sobs through the handle, with the map being held to his face. He did as told, drawing a line across the crinkled paper. He spits the knife out into his own lap, “There…ok? It should be there, fucking psycho”. Joel looks at the location, Silver Lake. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Joel's eyes look back at the raider, “David’s probably chopped him up by now,” he laughs.

Joel gritted his teeth, eyes as dark as the night. In one swoop motion he grapples the blade and shoves it against him, receiving a cry from his buddy off to the side. “Noo.”

The other hostage tried moving, as if he could somehow save his dying companion. Ellie of course was on it, “Move again, and I’ll shoot you.”

He tried pleading with them, in a state of hysteria, knowing he might have the same demise. Ellie had her gun, her aim shaky, scared to kill again but ready if it meant less obstacles later.

Joel though didn’t want her doing the dirty work, he was up and by her side, lightly pushing her hand down to lower her aim. “Get the horse ready”, he said with a small hint of guilt in his voice. Joel had insisted she stay hidden in the basement while he interrogated them, instead, she wanted to help. The older man didn’t have it in him to argue with her, between his grogginess and his wounded stomach, it wouldn’t have done him any good. 

This time she did as told, lowering her weapon and walking out of the room. 

Keep reading

Joel’s gaze turns to the man, tightening his fingers. 

“We should’ve blasted you motherfuckers when we had the chance!”

“Maybe you should have,” he says, bringing his knife down onto the man’s skull. 

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

The Silver Lake town was in shambles, people were yelling, people were running for their lives, and some were even fighting each other. Chaos ensued outside from your hiding place. Word got out on what was in their last meal, human remains. The people freaked out and began fighting, guns blazing.

You were sat up behind a counter, a pool of red just inches from you. Trembling at the sight, you tried collecting yourself. It was the first time you killed somebody, someone you couldn’t spare for once. You were moments away from being turned into a dish, what were you supposed to do? The thought made you nearly gag, you didn’t know how Joel didn’t feel the same way after he did the same. Perhaps he did and was just numb to it all. 

It didn’t matter though how you felt, you lived, you survived. You’d get to breathe freely even if it was for another moment. There wasn’t much time to celebrate, as nothing was in the world, because another set of footsteps entered into the massive dining hall. The quickness and sudden entrance made you jerk.

You listen carefully, as the person trailed around the room.

He said your name and you recognized that voice. Fucking David. Shit. He was the last person you wanted to encounter, especially in your hazed state. To some degree your fizzled mind was more alert than ever. After all, you trusted him. He gave you medicine, let you and your friends live; he must’ve had a change of heart. Or his plan to raid your rundown base, kidnap one of you even, was his intention all along. 

He called out for you again, sending a chill up your spine, “I know you’re in here. Why don’t you come on out, we can just work this out. Like ole pals”.

His voice, so condescending he might as well just say he wanted you dead. His voice was far, not enough to calm your nerves. Peering around the counter, through all the chairs and tables, you can make out the movement of a gray door. It swung, with a faint bit of light shining from behind. That was your way out, it had to be. The front door wasn’t an option as that would expose you to David and the mayhem happening just outside. There was probably a window, or even better another door just beyond the one you saw ahead. You needed to leave.

“If you take me to your friends, I’ll let you off scout free. We can forget about this whole mess, start over.”

Yeah right? Like you’d put your faith in him again. After he captured you and put you in a cage, after he ordered his man to cut you up like an animal; like hell you’d trust him.

Hearing David’s steps, slowly trailing around made you move, making sure you were as quick as can be. You kept your distance behind pillars, seats, and small walls; constantly keeping track of him through sound and small glimpses from your hiding spot.

You were now close, hiding behind a a seated booth that hid you from David’s sight and had the backdoor completely in full view. Anyone coming through the door would see you. It was tempting just to run for it. Doing so would alert him, causing you more trouble than you could’ve ask for.

A distraction is what you needed, something to keep him busy for a time. But would do that? A molotov might do the trick, the idea came about while you looked over at the bottle on a nearby table. If only you had a rag and a lighter.

Your knife would have to do, as you prepare yourself for a sneak attack.

————

Joel and Ellie made it, Silver Lake. The place was in shambles, they were caught off by the shouting, the combustion; initially thinking they'd have to sneak their way through a heavily guarded town.

Joel couldn't tell if he'd prefer what he was expecting, or the situation they were in now. There wasn’t time to waste, thinking too hard would just prolong your rescue.

The two kept behind a brick wall, watching and waiting for an opening. Joel’s plan was to search all the buildings that likely had a kitchen or butcher room. They’d have to wait until the gunshots came to a steady, not wanting to get caught in any cross fire.

One last shot rang out, before all that was left was the sounds of the howling winds. It lasted long, and the two gazed at each other before Joel decided to peek around the corner. Only three men remained, at least from what he could see. He could easily take them all with just a few bullets, but his aching stomach would prove to make that difficult.

“Jesus, can’t believe they’d turn on us.”

“Yeah, where the fuck did David go?"

Was there a dispute? Did you cause this? Who cared, not Joel. He just wanted to know if you were alive and well, afraid the ladder was high unlikely and wishful thinking.

Fuck it. He pulls his rifle up, groaning as he lined up his aim. Ellie got herself prepared too, locking eyes with Joel and communicating they’re next action through gaze alone. One of the men were facing away from them, he takes aim before pulling, taking one guy out.

It startles the other two, leaving them confused. It gave Joel time to reload behind cover before coming back out and down went the raider. None of them could hide besides one, who ducked behind the opposite side of the building the two were already hiding behind.

He had his rifle aimed just at the edges of the brick wall, ready to tap the raider the moment he peaked over. Ellie had herself up against Joel, somewhat curious if the coast was clear. His sharp, focused eyes said otherwise.

Just as half of the raider's face came into view, Joel was quick to dispose of the last man with a piercing shot to the face. Falling to the ground, the coast looked to be finally clear. The silence almost seemed threatening, like a trap was awaiting them if they stepped out from their hiding spot. Nothing of course convinced Joel of this other than his own worry. 

“Stay close to me”, Joel instructs Ellie. She nods, taking small steps behind Joel to keep her pace steady for the injured man.

They didn’t have a certain route, just trailing the walls and looking into the windows of buildings as they passed by each one; alleyways included. Joel sporadically looked around, trying to locate you while keeping a lookout for any other threats. Ellie did the same, but kept her eyes out for you. 

Joel, so caught up in the moment, hadn’t realized Ellie’s light steps growing distant by the second.

He turned to her, eyes widening at her recklessness, “Ellie”! She wasn’t listening,her eyes were squinted, investigating the figure just beyond the alleyway. She could have swore she recognized who it was, until she got closer. She gasped. 

Joel calls her name again, this time she listen. 

“Joel,” she waves her hand over, “It’s y/n”. She ran into the alley leaving Joel to limp his way over to the other side of the street. She could’ve at least helped him, after hearing that you were alive, the man wanted to run but couldn’t. 

He crosses the street, and is parallel with the valley and spots you at the other side, knees deep into the snow; draped in stains of red.

Ellie had already cross the distance in a sprint. She grabs your arms, startling you from your paralyzed state. Looking up from the snow, you were shocked to see Ellie, she was here. How? You had told her to stay and watch out for Joel, now she was here?

You had some questions but decided to hold them off, just wanting to be reminded what a caring embrace felt like. You reach your hand up and Ellie comes down to you with a hug. You could feel your tears welling up, wanting to forget the hell you just experienced.

Hearing a set of steps hit the snow, you snap your gaze to the side. Some of your questions were answered on sight just seeing Joel struggling as he limped over to you. Your tears finally started pouring down your face. "Joel, I fucking did it. I killed someone," your voice quivered.

You're words barely graced the man's ears. He just was happy you were still here, functioning normally too. He drops down to you, cupping your face and making you keep eye contact with him.

When you tried speaking again, it came out disjointed. It was a blend between an explanation and an apology. Yet Joel knew what you meant by the few words that escaped your shaky lips.

The way he treated you up to this point, your dispute weeks ago, the one that shut you down completely; when Joel yelled at you for not defending yourself. He did it out of fear, you nearly got kidnapped for god knows what reason. By then he was fed up with your passiveness, practically calling you useless and nothing more than dead weight.

He very quickly regretted this over the next few days, the lack of any soul in your voice was aching to hear. Ellie was feeling the effects of this too, trying to make small talk with you, but you never had much to say. The raising pain he felt made him feel guilty, believing his actions didn't justify his emotions. You likely we're in greater pain than he was.

Joel ran his fingers across your cheek, wiping away the drops leaving your eyes. You look down, "I'm sorry I...I tried protecting Ellie, and you..."

Hearing your voice was just furthering the wounds in the older man's heart. He shook, his head reminded of his wrongdoings. "No no no..." he pulls your face back up, "Sweetheart, we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Joel tried hiding the cracks in his voice. "You saved me, you watched over Ellie, I can't thank you enough. And..." he paused, his guilt coming back into the forefront. "''m sorry, for everythin'. I shouldn't have said any of it, I'd go back and change it in a heartbeat."

His words were touching, as if you didn't have enough to keep your tears flowing. You close your eyes in an attempt to hide yourself, to save the two people you cared about much the trouble of witnessing you break down. A combination of everything you'd suffer through just came crashing down onto you. The embarrassment of appearing weak in front of Joel, wasn't enough to stop your cries.

This time, he wouldn't push you away, not like last time. He pulled you in, his forehead pressing up against yours. He just kept repeating his remorsefulness, each time his voice grew softer until it was a whisper like the wind.

Ellie was also providing you extra security with her head leaning into the back of your shoulder. She would thank you later, with her own words, but she thought it was appropriate to comfort you now. Without you, she'd have no idea how to mend Joel or even handle David. It scared her thinking about doing everything you've done all alone.

You spent some time regaining your composure in Joel's warm palms, reaching up to place yours over his, you didn't realize how numb it had gotten from the freezing cold. You grip them tightly, clearing away the sorrow with a sniff.

"We need to go, okay?"

You took a second but eventually nodded.

Joel nods too in approval, he grips your hands in his own, and stands slowly, pulling you up along with him. Ellie lifts herself on her own accord, giving you some breathing room to physically reconcile with Joel. Seeing him wrap his arm around your back, his chin stuck to the side of your forehead, gave her hope that things going forward between you two would get better.

She informs you, "The horse isn't far," grabbing ahold of you before leading you forward.

Being that close to you, glued to your side, he wish he could tell you how much you meant to him. With the nightmare you just experienced, dropping something heavy like that would have to wait, you’d been through more than enough.

For once he was just happy, to finally make up with the man he loved, dearly.

#joel miller x male reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel x male reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller hbo #joel miller the last of us #tlou joel #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #male reader #pedro pascal

[lesiasmadness]

Pspsps I got a soft boy poetry lover Black Spy fanfic for y'all

Ah, is there anything better than having your arch nemesis chained up in just the next room? Well, maybe blowing them up or tricking them into slicing themselves in half… But that aside Black Spy loved nothing more than having White as his dear prisoner. Sure, it required constant awareness on his part, since escaping was only a matter of “when” and not “if” for this guest… But checking on your victim is but a treat, not a chore, when you get to see them this miserable...

Black’s colleagues already fetched him two tickets for a train tomorrow, which the pair of forever adversaries will take to where White is to be tortured for intel and maybe killed with no interruption from the local law enforcement. Till then Black only needed to keep the menace at bay. A more sensible way to go about things is to sit right in front of the captive and not let them move an inch, but out of pure arrogance (and maybe some pity) Black chose to stay in the next room. Good thing the apartment provided by his job was terrible enough to have the thinnest walls known to man, through which Black could hear the faintest shuffle.

And shuffle he did hear, as sounds of sliding paper and scribbling reached him. With no sense of urgency Black made his way to his captive’s room, and just as suspected saw hastily hidden paper stuffed under the rug. Tracing Black’s line of sight, White recognized he’s been discovered, and spit out a short bit of pencil he grabbed with his teeth to hide seconds prior.

-How did you even manage to write anything with your hands tied? … And where were the paper and pencil hidden? - Black picked up and started looking through the discovered notes, - I searched you all over before bringing you here

-Do you really want to know it in detail? - White smirked.

-Wouldn’t dream of it. - Disgusted, Black bit back. Adding “Degenerate.” in a disinterested mumble, as his eyes darted across the pages.

Only the further down the page his gaze slid, the more horror and disbelief seeped into his expression. White originally played it cool to hide how mortified he was at being unable to hide the papers, but now the smugness partly gave way to confusion at his enemy’s reaction. In truth, White was only making notes to pass the time, so what’s there to be so upset about?

Now visibly distraught, the captor frantically looked the papers over a few times, then grabbed his catch by the collar and practically hissed at him: “Whose poetry is this?”

That’s right, poetry. Embarrassing as it was, White was only writing down a few verses, afraid to forget a good turn of phrase.

-What, this? It’s all my secret code of course. Go decipher it for an hour or two, for sure I was going to send my bosses some juicy coded info. - White mocked.

-Did you write this from memory? Where have you learned these?!- Black did not let the topic stray, sounding almost… Desperate? This sudden obsessiveness threw White off his game, who now sincerely didn’t know how to respond.

-Look, I wish I could tell you but I just came up with those, so I have no better response than “here”.

-They’ll beat the lies out of you tomorrow anyway, so tell me now and maybe you’ll die with some fingernails still on your hands. You couldn’t have written this yourself, this is unmistakably the work of someone going by Dagger, who hasn’t published a single thing in a decade! - Black threw the papers at his captive’s face, but heard no response or insult coming his way. For just a moment nobody even dared to breathe, stuck in suffocating silence. The standstill was broken with Black’s weak steps backward. He slumped into a chair behind him, looking shell shocked, defeated.

-You’re Dagger. Am I correct?

Years ago, back on Black Spy’s home turf, he was informed he’ll be sent to infiltrate White territories. From that point on he studied anything he could find on the enemy culture. Mannerisms, traditions, clothes, trends, music… Aside from one aspect he could perfectly blend in. Aside from his language skills. All the textbooks and dictionaries were so tediously, torturously dull. For a mind specifically trained for unorthodox quick problem solving and long term scheming, the school level of simple memorization was unbearable.

Desperate, Black clung to any bit of literature he could find in enemy tongue, but obviously there wasn’t much. There wasn't much in this country legally, however he said that she said that they hinted that some items from beyond the border could make their way into Black country citizens hands. And this way Black Spy found himself in possession of a small recent publication of amateur poems. Most of them flimsy and unrefined. Amongst them however, were true gems of word and rhythm, and fascinatingly they all sat under one pen name - Dagger.

As limited as Black’s vocabulary was, he blazed through every small bit of poetry belonging to this author, and remained hungry for more. Now having found a new incentive for knowing the language, Black threw himself into honing his comprehension skills, and the more he understood of the intricacies of White country's language, the more brilliance he saw in those poems. The nuance and complexity of both the form and the meaning kept revealing themselves, like a sculpture form a marble brick.

Quite some time passed before he actually made it into the enemy country, but once there Black took no time hesitating before finding every single release bearing the Dagger name. What little accent he still had was ironed out while asking the book store owners and flea market goers for specific books and magazines. To Black’s great dismay before he even got into the country, this writer had been inactive for years. His bibliography wasn’t vast, and as years went by it only became clearer to Black that it wasn’t getting any bigger. But what poetry was there was so dear and close to Blacks heart that half of it he could recite.

No name, no gender, no age was ever revealed in these works, but trusting his deductive abilities Black painted a portrait of this person in his head: it must have been someone not much older than Black himself, someone just as invested in strategy, someone endlessly creative and perhaps devious… All so obvious just from the way his words twisted and played one with another. Black dreamed of someday finding this person, asking them all about their work, their inspirations… Why must this moment be so fascinating yet so cruel?

-Answer me. - Black retorted when his whole life stopped flashing before his eyes.

-I won’t deny nor confirm having written under that pseudonym. And besides, you won’t dig up much on my identity even if I confirmed my involvement.

-…Why did you stop?

-Because snitches like you could discover me if I were to keep being published.

-So you gave it up for this rotten job.

-To chase your rotten ass around, correct. Hypothetically.

-…

-Do they even read our poetry out where you’re from?

-Not when I’m not there, I’d assume.

-Do you think what I wrote is still as good as the stuff from years ago?

-…. Even better.

A poet and his captor sat opposite each other, a million questions between them, and only one night of time before the fated train. For the first time the two felt completely disarmed.

#spy vs spy #spy x spy #my art #lesia writes #tis was a moment of weakness at 3 am do not judge me #lesia: I like the chemistry between the spies #but i can't imagine them ever actually being loving and respectful towards each other #also lesia: immediately comes up with scenarios where they are loving and respectful to each other

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren’t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

#this was so hard to write #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #mcyt smut #mcyt x y/n #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs angst #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs fanfic #college au #college au karl jacobs #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x y/n

[ptergwen]

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

-

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

-

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

[tsumucore]

LUCID DREAMS

✎ … Miya Atsumu

word count: 5.2k

warnings: NSFW, pwp, daddy kink, a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, sexting, overstimulation, masturbation, he kinda spits in your mouth, just rough sex overall

All characters are 18+ !!!!

A/N: this is my first nsfw fic, so pls bear with me 🥺  I’m also dedicating this to @starboybokuto and @strawbericream for inspiring me and also bc they’re literally smut icons in the fandom and after writing this, I’m realizing just how hard it it to do and I just wanna appreciate them for all the effort they put in <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

His moans were like honey, pouring from his sweet lips and into your ears, as his thrusts became erratic. He was close. The sounds of your own pleasure filled the room before he swallowed them up completely with his beautiful mouth. You were close. This space that was inhabited by you two was the only dimension where time didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for each other. You were so, so, so, so, so clo-

“Wake up!”

Your roommate’s exclamation breaks you out of your lust-filled slumber with a jolt. You groan and silently curse her as details of the dream gradually come back to you; she’d have to make a run for it if she valued her life, or at least avoiding getting smacked in the face by the pillow you throw at her with impressive force.

“Y/N, what did I do? she whines. “You told me to wake you up. I only did what you said!”

“Literally fuck you, I was having a good dream,” you fire back.

“MAN if you don’t… anyway shouldn’t you be in class by now?” Your eyes widen as you fumble for your phone to check the time.

“Shit!” Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up if you were running late, but this class took attendance, and you were already on the cusp between two letter grades. A menial attendance point could be the difference between maintaining your GPA or tarnishing it.

You wash up in record time, throw on some clothes, and shove your necessary belongings in your backpack before slinging it on your back. You don’t even have time to fill up your water bottle; you’d just have to purchase one on campus later. You pop in your earbuds, select a random playlist, and fly out the door.

You don’t stop until you reach the lecture hall. You try not to cringe as you push open the door, slinking your way in the back to find an open seat; luckily, there was one near the door so your humiliation was short-lived. When you finally sit down and situate yourself, you take a deep breath for the first time that morning and collect your thoughts.

As your mind wanders, memories of your erotic dream come back to you. The faintest of color tints your cheeks, and you shift slightly in your seat as you subtly cross your legs. You pull out your phone, preparing to fire a text at lightning speed. You need your boyfriend.

Y/N: i miss you

Atsumu: :))

Y/N: im not trying to gas ur big head up even more than it already is i’m just whore knee

Atsumu: OH????? aren’t you in class rn?

Y/N: i’d rather be choking on your fat cock tbh

Atsumu: naughty girl, why are you saying such things in the middle of class?

Y/N: what are you gonna do about it... choke me? spank me? make me cum over and over and over again?

Atsumu: Watch your mouth, baby...

Y/N: Ok...

Y/N: ...daddy.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips, you set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and refocus your attention on the professor’s droning voice. By the time lecture was over, you scramble out of the building, eager to make a quick call to your boyfriend so you could describe to him in specific detail everything you wanted him to do to you.

Alas, you heard the voices of your friends calling out to you, so you’re forced to sit through idle chit-chat until your next class starts. Of course, today was also a full day, so you would have to endure the rest of your classes, your position as a TA, and the study session your classmates were pulling together at the library for your next exam - which just so happened to be in two days, meaning you couldn’t opt out. At this rate, you wouldn’t be leaving campus until dark. And it was only 10 in the morning.

While you daydream in your next class, you’re broken out of your reverie by the realization that you had neglected to check your phone after effectively ending the conversation with Atsumu the way that you had. You unlock your phone, seeing that you have just one unread message from him - a photo. 

You know what’s coming before you even open it, so you’re careful to ensure that your screen isn’t in anyone’s line of sight - luckily, you were sitting in the back again, so there aren’t any prying eyes over your shoulder. You turn down the brightness and open the conversation before practically salivating on the spot.

You have an idea of what exactly the photo was going to be of, but nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you.

It’s evident that he had propped up his phone on something and taken the photo on self-timer. Bleached tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he winked back at you through the screen with his lips pursed as if he was going to kiss someone. The only thing he wore was a gold chain around his neck. He was flashing a peace sign with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a good sized erection.

You feel your mouth dry up and your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way this photo was triggering a physiological reaction from your body was astounding. You need this man, and you need him now. You whisper to your friend that you had to use the bathroom, that you might be gone for a while - it must have been the iced coffee going straight through you - and to let you know if you missed anything. You try not to trip over anyone’s legs in your haste to get to the restroom.

Since this was a fairly large building, there were multiple restrooms, and so you locate the one you know is always empty and secluded - the one below the main floor. Once you enter, you do a quick check in each stall to make sure you’re alone before locking the door. You go into the biggest stall and commence with your plan of action.

You take off your shirt and bra and neatly hang them on the hooks behind the stall door. The sudden exposure to the chilly air makes you shiver as your nipples harden in response. You then bring your phone up to your chest, so that your face isn't in frame and begin to record yourself lightly massaging your breasts. You make sure to softly moan Atsumu’s name when you pinch your nipple, rolling it between your thumb and index finger. After about thirty seconds, you promptly send the footage to your boyfriend.

He immediately starts facetiming you which causes your thighs to squeeze together expectantly. When you answer the call, you’re greeted with dark, lustful eyes and a shit-eating grin.

“I heard someone missed me today.” His tone is slightly mocking, indicative of something deeper underneath.

“I had a dream about you,” you inform him as you slowly begin to massage your breasts the way you had before.

“Yeah? What happened in your dream?” His eyes darken as he shrewdly observes the way you sigh as your fingers glide over your nipples. God, he wished he could just take them in between his teeth.

You bite your lip in response to his tone becoming increasingly huskier. “I dreamed about you… fucking me.” Your voice falters a bit as you suddenly feel a wave of shyness rush over you. Atsumu often had this effect on you - sure, there was no limit to the amount of things you had done together; however, he was still able to make you feel flustered, as if it was the first time all over again.

“How naughty,” he scoffs. “You love actin’ so innocent, but what would people say if they really knew what was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours? What would they say if they saw what you were tellin’ me in the middle of class? Do ya know what they would say, dollface?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only managing a feeble shaking of your head.

“They would call you a whore. A filthy, depraved slut. And do ya know what sluts get?”

Again, another feeble shake.

“Nothing. Sluts get nothing,” he laughs mockingly as he angles his phone until you have an adequate view of the way he’s been stroking himself this entire time. “And now, dollface, you’re gonna have to watch me get myself off. I want your hands off of yourself entirely... If I catch you touchin’ yourself even once, you get nothing. But if you’re good, I might just play with ya later.”

You whimper at his order, but you have no choice; you had brought this upon yourself by getting him riled up with those texts in the first place. As you swallow thickly, he begins to jerk himself off - slowly at first, torturing you with each stroke as he looks directly through the camera and into your eyes. He then begins to pick up the pace as heavy pants and the occasional moan escapes from his mouth.

“See what ya did to me, baby? This is all because of you.” His breathing grows erratic as he edges closer and closer to his release. “And now look at you. Watchin’ a man jerk off in a public restroom, with your tits out, when you’re supposed to be in class like a good girl. Now tell me, does that sound like a good girl?”

You merely whimper in response.

“Answer me,” he practically growls. “Does. That. Sound. Like. A. Good. Girl.”

“No,” you whisper as you feel a surge of arousal rush to your core. You knew your panties would be suffering thoroughly by the time you returned to class.

“Then tell me, dollface. What. Are. You.” Each enunciation is emphasized with a hard stroke to his cock - the same way he would be thrusting into you. It takes absolutely everything in you not to sneak your hand down to your throbbing clit; he’d know if you did, he always did. The prospect of not being touched by him later was unthinkable, so you continue to helplessly watch him fuck his own hand.

“I’m a filthy whore, your filthy whore,” you whine in compliance as you watch him thrust into his hand a few more times before letting out a long, drawn out moan and spilling his release all over himself. You can’t help the moan that escapes your own lips as you take in the sight of his flushed face and heavy rising and falling of his chest.

“You actually listened to me for once? This is a surprise,” he chuckles once he recovers from his orgasm. “Hurry up and come over… I’ll fuck ya ‘til you can’t even remember your own name.”

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

For the rest of the day, you hoped you were doing a relatively adequate job of hiding your arousal as you went about your responsibilities. You were literally counting down the seconds until you were finished with everything so you could meet up with Atsumu and let him fuck you like he promised. At one point, you caught yourself almost drooling during your group study session at the library. You took this as your cue to leave, so you politely excused yourself by letting the others know that it was time for you to leave as you had to get up early the next morning.

After what felt like the longest and, thanks to Atsumu, the most torturous day ever, you felt completely ravenous. From the second you had woken up, you had been straight up horny, and the fact that you hadn't been able to take care of it was driving you insane. You had been rushed all day, never having a moment to yourself, and when you did, Atsumu had specifically instructed you not to satisfy yourself the way you needed to be satisfied. It was unfair.

To make matters worse, you missed the train that would take you to Atsumu’s apartment as he lived quite a while away from your campus. The next train would be leaving in an hour, which was just too much for you at this point. Delay after delay. You grit your teeth in frustration as you weigh your options: you could wait another painstaking hour for the train that would inevitably take you to your dick appointment or you could spend a fortune by calling for a taxi and getting there right now. While you mentally calculate your finances, your clit throbs just slightly when you cross your legs, which causes you to throw all thoughts of being a penniless college student out the window in favor of getting fucked mercilessly as soon as possible.

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

Of course the elevator in Atsumu’s apartment building was currently out of order at that moment, leaving you with no other choice but to climb the seven flights of stairs to his apartment. At this point, you feel like you’re running on some sort of primal instinct as you sprint up the stairs with the vigor possessed by only someone who’s about to be dicked down. By the time you reach his door, you’re already huffing and puffing, but your own exhaustion escapes your mind as you ring his doorbell impatiently. Once the door swings open, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend smirking back at you.

The motherfucker wore nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and the same gold chain around his neck from earlier. You chuck your backpack on the floor and throw yourself onto him, pressing your lips against his (minty?) ones. The kiss is sloppy and intense as you try to make him feel the desperation you had been forced to endure all day long. 

Somehow, your clothes find themselves on the ground in a matter of seconds. He lightly slaps at your thigh, a signal for you to jump into his arms. When you do, your hands immediately find themselves tangled in his hair, and you tug at the roots lightly, earning a growl from him. You gasp and moan into his mouth when you feel his hands give your ass a good squeeze. He manages to carry you like this into his bedroom before gently dropping you onto his bed, where he palms himself above you as he gazes at your nude form. On god, you can literally see his dick print through his sweats, and it only fuels the wetness forming between your thighs.

“Atsumu, I’ve been waiting all fucking day long. Stop being an asshole and fuck me already like you promised,” you whine as you reach your hands up to rub them along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. You were hoping that this would coax him into giving you what you want, but he merely ceases his actions and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?” His eyes narrow, and he leans down so that he’s hovering directly above you. “Is my baby so goddamn horny that she actually forgot her manners?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, gradually squeezing it harder as he glares at you. “Looks like I’ll have to remind ya how to properly speak to me. Turn over - I want that ass up in the air.” 

You pout as you obey his command and flip over on your knees so that your face is shoved into the pillow and your ass is sticking straight up for him, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come.

“You know the drill, since you wanna be such a goddamn slut - count for daddy.” Before you can respond, his hand collides with your left asscheek, causing you to yelp and moan, “One,” weakly into the pillow. The sting doesn’t last for very long, but you know better - by tomorrow, you won’t be able to sit properly.

He continues delivering powerful slaps to your ass and admires the way it jiggles with every smack and the redness blooming across the soft flesh. Every so often, he plunges two fingers into your now sopping heat, without warning. He removes them as quickly as he puts them in, causing you to whine in frustration. By the time you reach ten spanks, you’re babbling incoherently as you wiggle your hips in the air, clenching around nothing and desperate for anything to fill you up.

He flips you back over on your back and scoffs at your desperation. “Have you learned your lesson, whore?” It’s not a question - it’s a demand.

As much as you want to do or say whatever he wants so that he can fuck you already, it’s always more fun to see what happens when you piss him off. You jut out your lower lip in a pout and stare up at him defiantly. “No.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped back onto your stomach. Another round of brutal spankings are delivered to your asscheeks, causing tears to prick your eyes as the burning pain sets in. You’re going to be sore for the next week.

“Leave it to a whore to be so mouthy,” he growls as he flips you over on your back again and thrusts two fingers into your cunt. “But you like this, don’t ya? You like pissin’ me off, because you like getting your pretty little ass spanked and you like being choked, whether it’s by my hand or on my cock. I should shut you up with my cock, since you wanna be so mouthy. Tell me, do ya like choking on cock, whore?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan quite loudly. The combination of his degrading words and consistent thrusting of his fingers in and out of your pussy was sending you into a haze.

“Of course you fucking do,” he spits. “You told me so yourself when you were sitting all innocent in class. In fact, what else did ya tell me?” His thumb was now brushing vigorously against your clit during each thrust, causing your legs to shake violently. The whimpers falling from your lips grow louder as you focus on the buildup slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. However, your lack of response doesn’t impress him. He immediately pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, eliciting a jerk from your entire body and a drawn-out moan from the surprising sensation.

“Answer me, fuckdoll. Or you get nothing.” He literally shoves his fingers back in and continues his relentless thrusting, filling the room with the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt. You scramble to remember the contents of the lewd texts you had sent him earlier that day, but your brain is so hazy from the orgasm you know is about to hit you, that you’re stumbling through your words.

“I-I said something about w-wanting to choke on your cock-” your sentence is cut off with a long moan as he applies direct pressure on your clit with his thumb.

“We established that already, dollface,” he scoffs. “What. Else.”

“I d-don’t remember,” you wail and thrash your head side to side against the pillow. Your release is so close, you can taste it. “Daddy, please let me cum - I’m going to cum!”

“Don’t remember? That’s a shame,” he remarks as he completely stops his actions and pulls his fingers out, yet again. You let out a scream of frustration at the fact that your orgasm was just cruelly ripped away from you. “Let’s see, maybe we need a refresher.” To your disbelief, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to the conversation from that morning. “Hmm, you told me to choke and spank you… Well, I’ve already done both of those, so what else?” His eyes narrow down at your quivering form and, to your relief, he puts his fingers back in you and continues thrusting. What was the last thing you told me, whore?”

“I-I told you to m-make me cum over and over a-again,” you gasp out as one final sharp thrust sends you completely over the edge. Before you know it, you’re screaming his name as you crash down from your high.

You moan in bliss as you feel the utter fucking release of the tension that had been building up inside you all day long. However, you barely have time to relax before you realize Atsumu’s still going at it in your now sensitive pussy.

“Tsumu,” you gasp as you feel your body jerking in response to the oversensitivity. “It’s s-so much… I-I c-can’t-”

The motherfucker literally laughs as he watches your face contort from the sheer overwhelming pleasure. “What? You asked for it. You’re droolin’ already and all I’ve given you are my fingers.” His jeering words ignite the fire building up for the second time as tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. “You tellin’ me you want me to stop?” He stuffs a third finger inside, stretching you even further and eliciting even more delicious cries from your lips. It felt like his fingers were thrusting even harder and faster, if that was possible.

“N-no, keep g-going,” you wail before you’re hit with your second orgasm of the night. All that you’re able to get out is a blubbering combination of “daddy” and “Tsumu” as your vision goes white and you hear the roaring of your own blood in your ears.

Atsumu finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy, eyes fixating on the string from your fluids attached to them. He takes advantage of your still panting mouth to stuff his fingers in between your lips. “You know what to do.” His eyes darken as he watches you desperately suck on his fingers, tasting your own essence on them. After he feels that you’ve effectively done a thorough job of cleaning them off for him, he smirks and pulls them out before leaning down so that he’s hovering above you.

“Good girl. Open wide for your reward.” Once you comply, he works up a good amount of saliva and lets it fall in your mouth, directly on your tongue. You moan as you relish the taste of his spit and swallow it all. “Thank you daddy,” you beam up at him.

He draws himself back in satisfaction as he pulls his sweatpants off, freeing his rock hard length and letting it slap against his abdomen. As spent as you are from your previous orgasms, there’s nothing you’re craving more than for him to be balls deep in your tight pussy. He just remains where he is, stroking himself as he watches you grow impatient for him to do something already.

 “Tsumu,” you plead in the calmest tone you can muster. “Please fuck me already.”

He merely continues to pump his cock, much to your dismay. “How much do you want my big cock, whore?” Again, it isn’t a question.

“I want it more than anything in the whole wide world,” you beg. Each stroke to his cock only serves to increase your frustration.

“Prove it.”

You let out a groan and proceed to rub your tits, squeezing them together and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. In your attempt to please him, you notice the way Atsumu slightly picks up the pace of his strokes as he watches you play with your tits.

But it still isn’t enough for him.

“You can do better than that.”

Fucking hell. You let go of your breasts and spread your legs, hooking your hands behind your knees so that he has a perfect view of your pretty, spoiled pussy. Your cheeks burn as you bring your hand down to spread your lips, offering him access to your slick hole. “C’mon, Tsumuuuuu… I’m all good and ready for you.”

Atsumu swallows thickly and finally relents. He grabs your thighs and holds them open as he positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You’re so wet from your previous orgasms that he slides in easily, burying himself to the brim as he loses himself in the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you and lets out a long moan. It feels like your pussy is literally swallowing him up as he bottoms out. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself being deliciously, oh so wonderfully, stretched. His fingers were heavenly on their own, but nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots in you.

“Fuck, yeahhh. You’re so tight, fuck. How are ya so tight?” Atsumu’s breathing is heavy as he squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the sensation of your walls clenching around him. He starts thrusting slowly, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. However, you grow impatient and start wiggling your hips, urging him to go faster. He scoffs and slaps your breast in response. “Be patient, dollface. You’ll take what I give ya.” You whimper, but cease your actions. Atsumu must have apparently decided that was enough for him as well, because he picks up his speed. 

His hips slap against you from the brutal way he fucks you into oblivion. His strokes are deep and hard, causing you to turn into a sobbing mess. The room is filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and your cries begging him to not stop and go even harder. The way he pounds into you has your entire body rocking back and forth as you moan at the feeling of his pelvis meeting you with each movement. 

“M-more, daddy!” Drool is seeping out of the corners of your open mouth and your eyes are glazed over from the sheer feeling of him being balls deep in you.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t ya?” Atsumu’s grunts fill your ears and you clench even tighter at his words. “An’ it’s never enough for you. Insatiable whore.” He delivers a particularly sharp thrust at the word “whore” which makes you blubber nonsensically. You want to tell him that you’re his insatiable whore, but your words are jumbling together as all your senses are devoted to the way his cock is slamming in and out of your cunt.

At this rate, you’re about to cum again in no time. Atsumu picks up on this and makes you wrap your legs around him so he can pound into you even deeper from this new angle. The tip of his dick now hits your g spot with each brutal thrust, making you literally scream in delirium. He’s more than pleased at your response, which is why he suddenly halts his movements and tilts his head at you in the cockiest manner. You want to scream and swear at him in every language possible, but you’re in such disbelief that all you can muster is the dirtiest glare at him. He laughs at the way your hips involuntarily move around him.

“Look at ya, you’re so fuckin’ cockhungry. I’m not even doing anything and your pussy’s tryna suck me in.” Before you can protest, he suddenly pulls out so that just the tip of his dick is inside you and slams back in with no warning. He’s back to thrusting into you, hitting your g spot with immense force. 

Before you know it, the knot that had been forming in your stomach completely snaps. His eyes train on the way your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your eyes cross together as your mind goes completely blank when you cum yet again. Your pussy clenches around him, causing him to swear profusely, and your fluids gush out involuntarily. Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is covered in the sheen from your sweat. He lets go of your thighs and leans over to meet your lips with his, never stopping the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You pant into his mouth as the sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears and the cool metal of his chain dangles against your skin. 

“C’mon, make that face again for me.” Atsumu begins to rub your clit harshly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you as your entire body shudders.

“I-I-I…” Your teeth are clenched and your eyes are squeezed shut as pressure fills your head from the overwhelming sensation spreading throughout your body. It’s all too much, and you’re not sure you can cum again.

“Give it to me one more time, pretty girl. I know you can do it, I gotcha.” Atsumu starts sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear and continues to fuck you with the vigor of a possessed man. The bedframe shakes uncontrollably from the way he pummels into you. His thumb rubbing furiously at your clit sends shock waves of pleasure throughout your overly sensitive body and before you know it, the familiar pressure is building up in your stomach again. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-,” you chant as your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out his name while your vision goes completely white. Atsumu groans at the feeling of your tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. Your whole body is shaking, and you’re so wracked with pleasure that you can scarcely process the way his thrusts grow sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His groans fill the room as he erratically pummels into you to chase his high. 

“Cum inside me, daddy. Want you to fill me all the way up.” Your words are slurring together at this point due to the heady arousal clouding your mind, but they’re enough to tip Atsumu over the edge. He lets out a moan and his hips stutter to a stop as you’re overcome with the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and suddenly filling you to the brim with his cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you and pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. The two of you are silent for a good few minutes before he gathers whatever strength is left in him to pull out of you. He remains somewhat on top of your utterly spent body and peppers kisses all over your face. “You good?”

“Never better,” you reach a hand up to stroke his hair, and he hums contentedly in response before rolling over to your side. He throws an arm over you, hugging you to his body and just stares at you lovingly.

“I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I?” His hand reaches down to your ass to rub soothingly at the marks left by him.  

“You were perfect, babe.” You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “I’m sleeping good tonight, thanks to you.” He smiles at this and positions himself so that his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes for a while as he savors the feeling of you stroking his hair and planting kisses on the top of his head.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Ya wanna order food?” His eyes are still shut and you chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Who’s callin’?” He snuggles a bit further into you.

“Not it.” His eyes open and he looks up at you before literally pouting. You can’t believe this is the same man you were calling “daddy” just a few minutes ago.

“Why do I hafta do it,” he grumbles.

“Sorry that my phone’s out there and yours is literally at your feet because you wanted to be theatrical and ‘teach me a lesson.’” You smile as he continues to grumble under his breath, but pushes himself up to grab his phone and dial the number of your favorite takeout place. “Love youuuuuu,” you sing-song and flash a toothy grin at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love ya too.” He rolls his eyes and lies back down next to you as he speaks to the worker on the phone. The entire time he absentmindedly plays with your hands as you sigh contentedly and bask in the feeling of being with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ rules

#im not used to writing smut oR full length scenarios so this was quite the feat #like i think an actual tear slipped out once #i hope u all enjoy teehee #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu hcs #atsumu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu writing #haikyuu smut #haikyuu

[wildingrose]

spilt tea

dark alley help part 10

part 9: care

word count: 2.8k

》 ignored kink, cunnilingus, oral sex in office

- ✿ -

You sat on the desk in your office cabin while Cindy watched you hold the pile of documents. Your eyes scanned over the lengths of the legal sized papers that contained detailed information on the clients and their wishful properties. Flipping through them and resting the reviewed next to you, your heart froze when coming across the name of one particular client.

Facing the paper her way, you asked, "Him? He's our client?"

Cindy squinted her eyes to read the inked name and nodded. "Yes, it's your fiancé. He's been our loyal client for a long time."

You groaned at the unofficial title. "He's not my fiancé. Never was." That made sense as to how your mother found him and why she really liked him. "Doesn't he have a gazillion properties? Why does he need more?"

"He mentioned that this one was for... a reunion, I believe. It's a new property under construction and will be underway for closing soon."

Your head pounded painfully and your fingers went up to relieve it in circles. Raymond was purchasing a property just for a reunion instead of holding the event at one of his currently owned hotels. That guy was just flexing his money through property ownerships. "Whatever," you mumbled and took a quick glance at the company name that was responsible for the construction. Then, your eyes immediately fixed on where it was located.

It was the block where Taeyong mentioned that he was working at. You hadn't seen the structure yet, and now you were overjoyed to.

"Oh my God," you muttered and hopped off the table, your hand flying to your mouth in utter shock before your shoulders shook and a loud sinister laugh escaped from you.

Cindy watched you in concern as you jumped gleefully in your spot. "Um, Y/N, are you okay?"

While you weren't hundred percent positive for what his reaction was going to be, you couldn't wait to rub it in Raymond's face that he had purchased something where Taeyong had contributed to building. You waved Cindy off with an ecstatic smile. "Yeah, don't worry. I was just thinking about something."

She stared at you for a moment longer before letting it go.

Shortly, a knock on the door was heard, followed by a head popping in. "Can I come in? I have your tea," Chris smiled, shaking an acrylic tumbler with iced tea. "This should help with your headache and slight nausea."

"Thanks a lot. Of course, come in," you waved him in.

He nodded and strode over to you. You retrieved the drink and took a long sip of the tea, humming happily. "Perfect."

"Hope it helps. Also, there's someone waiting for you outside."

"Really? Who?" Your lips connected with the straw and sucked in another long sip.

His brows furrowed as he tried to recall the name. "I think his name is... Taeyong?"

You spurted out your tea in surprise that he came to your workplace in the middle of the day and set the tumbler down on the desk. "It's Taeyong? Bring him in!"

Chris nodded and went to fetch for your man while Cindy eyed you curiously.

Chris stepped into the main area where Taeyong stood by the desks, more specifically by Shannon's desk who wordlessly stared at him. "Hey man, come on in!"

Taeyong straightened his back and cleared his throat, avoiding the gaze of the young woman drilling a hole in his head. Her gaze remained on his retreating figure with a slight frown creasing her forehead.

Your colleague reappeared with the man that you were looking forward to trailing behind. Taeyong smiled subtly as you jogged over to him with a bright smile.

"Baby," you chirped and wrapped your arms around him. He faintly chuckled and held you close, pecking your forehead. You turned around in his arms and found Cindy's jaw hanging low and Chris whistling in amusement. "He's Taeyong, my fiancé-to-be," you introduced him, mainly for Cindy. Taeyong was stunned by the unexpected title but happily accepted it, wanting nothing more than to be bonded with you in the utmost ways possible.

Chris quirked an intrigued brow. "Now that's some real tea right there. Have fun now," he said and with a salute, he walked out the cabin.

Cindy closed her mouth and reminded you of an important task. "Mr. Riley is expecting a call in..." She glanced at her watch. "... about a few minutes. Should I stay here to help you?"

You shook your head. "It's pretty straight forward so I'll be fine. Thanks though."

She nodded and headed to exit the cabin, closing the door behind her to give you privacy.

You pulled away from Taeyong and asked, "I love seeing you here, but how? Don't you have work?"

He pointed to the window in your office. As if on cue, the light droplets shifted to pouring rain outside. "It started onsite, so we had to stop working. Thought I'd come here and see how you're doing."

You hummed. "Good thinking. But I have work to do, so no funny business," you warned with narrowed eyes.

He exhaled out of his nose and nodded, seeming disinterested by your words as he shuffled his feet towards your desk and hopped on. His eyes landed on your tea and picked it up, taking a huge sip and frowned at the bitter taste before setting it back down. Taeyong then scanned his eyes around the cabin, making observations of how clean and polished the walls were with modern design.

You arched an eyebrow at him to which he didn't catch. Was he really going to sit there and not do anything? Good for you. You strolled over to pick up your client's portfolio and cell phone from the desk. "I have an important call to make. Do not make a sound, and no distractions. Understood?"

Taeyong merely shrugged in response, and you began dialing your client's number. While you waited for the call to be answered, you glanced at Taeyong and noticed that he wasn't doing anything except for swinging his leg.

"Hello, this is Riley speaking."

Startled, you fumbled with your greeting. "Oh hi! Good afternoon, Mr. Riley. I'm Y/N L/N and am calling on behalf of my father regarding your interested properties. I'll be taking his place so it will be a pleasure to work with you," you spoke with politeness.

Taeyong huffed and mumbled, "Only I give you pleasure." You smacked his arm.

"I'm sorry? I didn't hear the last part well."

Your eyes widened. "Nothing!" You gave Taeyong a glare and moved away from him, balancing the folder on one hand. "So, I see your investments and interests..."

Taeyong watched you as the call droned on, getting immensely bored without your attention on him, and so he decided to make himself comfortable.

You took a sneak peak to see what Taeyong was up to and did a double take. "I'm sorry but could you please hold on for a moment, sir?" Pressing the mute button, you gritted your teeth. "Taeyong, why are you unbuttoning your shirt?"

He kept moving his fingers downward, undoing the buttons slowly and pushed the flaps to the side for his handsome torso to be on full display. "I'm feeling hot," he said with his voice laced in pure boredom.

You gave him a pointed look. The air conditioner was blasting in your cabin, therefore having no reason for him to feel uncomfortable. You ignored him, turning your back on him and resumed your call, but now you were partly distracted by replaying his beautiful skin in your head.

Taeyong sighed when seeing you ignore him again and hopped off. He rounded the desk and plopped down into the massive leather chair, putting his feet up on the table and rummaged through the drawers to look for anything that could entertain him.

Your ears picked up on the soft sounds of drawers sliding open and shut. There was a brief moment of silence followed by a container lid clicking open. The faint chewing sounds made you turn around and your heartbeat stilled before kicking into full racing mode. You were paying almost zero attention to your client as you watched Taeyong bite into a cherry, the juice spilling out of its flesh and past his lips, traveling down his chin. He made no efforts to wipe it off as he finished the fruit off, spitting out the seed and discarding the stem onto the lid. Picking up another one, he repeated the action, making more of the sweet red juice coat his chin.

You wanted nothing more than to lick his skin clean, and then straddle yourself on his lap to have a heated make out session with him. But you held yourself back and blinked a few times, shaking your head and focused on the reason why you were doing all of this.

When the cherries were all done, Taeyong huffed out in frustration from having nothing else to do, your phone call seeming to run way longer than anticipated.

Just then, his lips curled into a smirk as an idea hit him.

He stalked over to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and you didn't notice his approaching presence from behind until he swiftly bent down to grab your waist from the front and hoisted you over his shoulder, holding you effortlessly by your legs. Your hand lost balance of the folder and it crashed to the floor, and your eyes bulged out as he carried you over to the desk.

He put you down on the table and shoved everything aside with his arm, not giving a glance as to what was being knocked over. Taeyong positioned you until you were laid flat on the sturdy desk and crawled on top of you, bringing his gaze to meet yours. With your mouth agape, you stared at his dark eyes as you were no longer processing a single word that your client spoke.

"Ignore me," he mouthed without a single sound and then he began.

He unbuttoned your shirt enough to expose your bra. Your heart crashed in your chest, fearing for what he had in mind when being in the office with a client on the phone and the door to your cabin left unlocked. But you were thrilled to see what Taeyong was going to do while you 'ignored' him.

His tongue poke out to coat saliva over his cherry-dried lips and dipped his head in between the valley of your breasts, sucking on the skin there with his soft lips sending excitement down to your core as you began producing your own sweet juice. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, stopping your sighs from reaching the speaker. You could have muted your voice and took full advantage of the situation, but this was 'ignore Taeyong' game and you were going through with it to see its end.

"Miss Y/N, are you still there?" Your client's voice snapped you back to your main responsibility.

"Oh sorry. Yes, I am." And with that, he resumed talking.

Taeyong pulled back and observed the faint colour of the fruit transferred onto your skin, and you nearly sighed aloud when he took long strides of his hot wet tongue to lick it clean, your grip on the phone tightening. When done, he pulled back with a smirk, and your eyes blew up when one of the most insane things happened next. Taeyong leveled his face with the zipper of your pants and grasped onto the small sliding piece with his teeth, pulling it down undone with such ease that you thought was not possible with the difficult task.

His hands yanked your pants down along with panties to midway. To prevent the hassle of taking your shoes and pants off completely, he crossed your legs, keeping enough space to dive his head into the opening from underneath. His hands firmly held your legs in place to stop you from squeezing around his head. His face leveled with your glistened core till you felt his hot breath fanning over it. Taeyong was amused to see you turned on and took a deep breath in with his nose touching your sweet flesh. "Smells nice, doll," he whispered ever so softly that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't completely focused on him. Your legs quivered around his head as you spilled more juice out.

At last, his tongue strode over the length of your heat and your jaw hung open without a single sound parting from your lips. He repeated the action and after dipped his wet muscle in between your slick folds. You used every muscle in you to keep your hips grounded to the smooth surface of the table while your free hand clenched into a tight fist beside you. It would have been at his head gripping his hair, but you weren't sure if that counted as ignoring him.

Your walls hugged him as he began rolling his tongue. A small hum was felt against your flesh, causing your belly to tighten and spill more of your delicious juice onto his tongue. He hungrily lapped up every drop, his moist muscle flicking against your clit that resulted you to slip a mixture of moan and whine past your deep breathings.

"Is everything all right?"

Your blood ran cold when you had momentarily forgotten all about the phone call. Your ears had completely droned out your client's voice to focus on the squelching sounds that your man made in your cunt. Your brain quickly tried to come up with a sound excuse. "Oh um, I spilled something on my desk. I'm sorry about that. Please continue."

Taeyong snickered, sending sinful vibrations throughout your body and further tightened your belly for the incoming orgasm. Unfortunately, another desperate whine escaped from your mouth. Mr. Riley was silent for a moment before speaking up. "I do have another matter to attend. We can end our discussion here for now. I look forward to working with you, Y/N."

Finally! "I see. I will too. Have a great day-" and you quickly ended the call before a pathetic moan could travel through the speaker as Taeyong began having a make out session with your cunt, sucking your throbbing clit in between his lips. Chucking your phone aside, your hands lightly played with the wisps of his dark hair. "Oh Tae," you choked out a quiet sob. Your legs ached and trembled the longer it was forcefully kept open.

"Look at me, doll," he whispered.

You looked down at the sinful view of his head in between your legs. His gaze heavily burned into yours and gave a few harsh sucks, resulting in the final snap of the coil in your stomach. Your vision blurred as your back arched off the surface to generously cum into his mouth. He hummed as he sucked up every drop of your essence, still lapping over your heat even after it was over, and the sensitivity caused you to push his head away. "No more," you weakly whispered.

He kissed your cunt two times before completely pulling his head out, helping you put your pants back on. "You taste so good, doll," he drawled seductively he licked his lips clean.

You smacked his chest, feigning anger as you buttoned up your top. "We would have lost one of our biggest clients if he figured out what I was up to."

"But he didn't. You did a good job ignoring me... for the most part anyways," he snickered.

A series of knocks was heard and the door flew open, revealing an unsuspecting Cindy. Her eyes went on a tour as it scanned over the dropped portfolio on the floor, your shocked eyes on her, Taeyong's disheveled state and open shirt, and the mess on the desk.

She huffed out at the sight of drenched documents. "If you were going to have fun, couldn't you have done it without getting anything spilt on the documents?"

Your brows scrunched, confused with what she meant until you spotted the acrylic tumbler tipped onto its side with the tea no longer in its container as the papers soaked the liquid up. "Oh shit," you muttered and shot a look at Taeyong who simply shrugged and feigned innocence as if not his fault.

Cindy sighed. "We'll just have to prepare all those again."

"I'll prepare them myself. It's my fault anyway."

She shook her head. "It's fine. I'll help too. You owe me a drink for overtime," she cracked a smile and winked.

You breathed out in relief that she wasn't too mad at you. "Of course."

Taeyong turned to you with bright eyes. "I'll help too." Not only would he be able to spend more time with you, but also receive a free drink, your drink, while at it.

Your jaw slacked, aware of his underlying intention, and pushed him out the cabin with all your strength. "No! You're leaving, mister!"

tag list: @cosmiclatte28 @mel-yjh @johnnysuhisnotmyproblem @kttyongie @chantellsievert

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong smut #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios

[goblinkingdomsblog]

Bts as mafia series ask

What will they do after kidnapping agent yn who is not willing to give info

What will they do after kidnapping agent y/n who is not willing to give information

Members: all BTS.

Genre: mafia!AU, reaction.

Premise: you are a police agent who was captured by one of the most influential members of the criminal organization you have been investigating for weeks. He's trying to get information out of you through interrogation, but you're not going to give in, no matter what. So he needs to think of a new plan.

TW: a little bit of (V) = Violence, but more of (S) = Safe for reading and (Sg) = Suggestive.

Mafia Series Masterlist

Mafia Series Plot

I don't know if this is exactly how you imagined your request, but I hope you enjoy it. ;)

"Precious information is always worth it."

Namjoon:

You were tied to the chair for a long time, until he came and released you. You immediately thought about the easiest escape route, but the abandoned, damp pavilion in which you were, behind huge boilers, seemed to have no end.

He smiled calmly, standing a few feet in front of you with his arms crossed.

- Agent Y/N. What an honor. - his voice was sympathetic, lulled by a hoarse and low tone - I've been looking for you for a long time. I heard you're trying to get me in trouble.

You laughed bitterly, spitting on the floor to get rid of the taste of the gag that had been in your mouth just minutes before.

- I feel really sorry that I didn't cause more problems, then.

Surprisingly, he laughed back, as if he were in the presence of a rebellious child who he needed to educate.

- You didn't answer the questions my subordinates asked you, did you?

- I will never reveal anything. You can send those dumbasses back and make them punch me more. - you touched your aching jaw with your free hands, without looking away from the one who you knew were the leader of the Organization - I can deal with them easily.

With his arms crossed, he rubbed his expensive shiny shoe on the floor, lifting his index finger.

- Oh, no, no. That was my mistake, caused by a wrong choice of members. Let's say they are not exactly the smartest members of our... company. I'm sorry about that. - he laughed quietly, adjusting his glasses over his nose with the casualness of someone who was shopping at the supermarket.

- So what are you going to do, you bastard? - you grunted, trying to distract him just to have time to think of a good way to get out of there.

He laughed again, a short, somewhat dangerous laugh.

- Courageous. - he murmured, with a sharp gleam in his dark eyes. He stared at you for a long moment before proceeding - Well, violence is almost never the best option. It is always better to treat the guests with whom you want to have a conversation with calm and courtesy. And, of course, without haste.

Feeling a cold shiver down your spine, you stayed still.

- I have all the time in the world, my dear. I can wait until you're ready to start. - with a singing smile that exposed two deep dimples, which now seemed sharply malignant, he turned to the darkness - Ah, and don't even think about running away. If this place already seems big to you, know that it is bigger than you think. And there are some rather interesting obstacles around here.

With one last look over his shoulder, the faint moonlight that came in through the windows reflecting off the lenses of his glasses and preventing you from seeing his eyes, he clicked his tongue.

- But, if you insist on trying to escape... - he pronounced, as if he considered the whole situation a great pleasure, and not a threat - I wish you good luck.

Seokjin:

You were in a small house, surrounded by at least 4 tables full of electronic equipment, computer parts, baubles and dust.

The man seated in front of you, with his chin in one hand, kept his eyebrows raised. By moving your hands tied behind your back, you tried to free yourself from the wheelchair in which you were trapped.

- Stay still. - he murmured, harshly. His expression was divided between apprehension and irritation.

- I am still. It is kind of difficult to make any movement while you are tied to a chair.

Without paying any attention to you, he rolled his eyes.

- I don't know why they thought of me as the right person to fulfill this mission. As if I had nothing more important to do. - his face, beautiful as a carved brilliant, was extremely expressive - And now, to make things worse, you still don't want to collaborate with the interrogation!

You smirked, shaking your head in the middle of the room with brown walls and orange lamps.

- I'm sorry for being a stone in your path. I bet if you let me go, you would be relieved. - your tone was acidic.

Bitting his lower lip, he snapped his fingers. With an impulse from the floor, he slid the wheelchair in which he was sitting to one of the tables, turning on one of the computers.

- Actually, I have a better idea. - he said, his plump lips curving into a smile as his fingers typed quickly, as if he were thinking of a joke that only he understood.

After a few quiet seconds, in which the only noises in the house came from the computer, he turned towards you and rotated the computer screen to your direction, so that you could view it entirely.

- I think you will be the one relieved when you collaborate with my questions. - he murmured, pointing the image on the monitor: the security cameras on the street in front of your family's house, recording everything in real time. It was even possible to spot your mother through the window - It's not that hard to find out certain things on social media, you know? I would recommend you to be more careful from now on.

Your smile died on your face, replaced by an expression of fear.

Yoongi:

The stone basement under the busy bar was a much darker place than it had seemed at first. The endless noise of parties was able to hide the most diverse noises.

The man standing at the door, talking to two others who remained in the shade, seemed completely calm. Which was the total opposite of how you felt.

Trying to shake your body to get rid of the rope wrapped around your entire torso, you groaned. You knew that dozens of bruises would form on your arms because of the effort, but you couldn't stop trying.

Dismissing the two henchmen, the man near the door turned in your direction. Approaching with his hands in his pockets, he stopped a few inches away, bending to reach the height where you were trapped.

- As you didn't want to answer when I asked patiently, I decided to change my approach. - with a slow, almost lazy, gummy smile, he took his hands out of his pockets, revealing a pile of pills.

Knowing what "industry" he was in, you were sure those pills were drugs. Although you were afraid of what might happen, you would never let it show.

- What are you going to do? Forcing me to swallow and kill myself from an overdose? - you almost spat, bending forward in an attempt to hit him with your head.

He laughed, and his laugh was a little choked. He smelled of cigarettes, both in his baggy clothes and on his breath.

- Don't be so hasty. I already said that I am very patient, so I would never force you to take one of them. - he shook the pills in his closed fist, letting them make a noise - I'll let you choose one of them.

Grunting, you turned your head.

- The choice is entirely yours. You may take a sweetie pill, which just makes you more relaxed to answer my questions... - his expression went from amusement to a somber seriousness, while he averted his eyes downwards - or you may take a poisoned one that will kill you. Sadly you don't have the option of not taking any pill.

Smiling again, exposing his gums in a way that made his expression frighteningly youthful, he shrugged.

- I hope you have a good eye for analyzing pills. Or at least a good tolerance.

Hoseok:

He was smiling in your direction for good 3 minutes now. Sitting upright, his knees 5 centimeters away from yours (that were tied to each other), he looked like an experienced dealer wanting to convince you to buy something.

You were already so tired that you felt almost ready to "buy it".

- If you tell me some very simple details of the investigation, I promise you will be released without any injuries. - his face was soft and friendly, and he spoke with such conviction that it was easy to accept.

You were sweaty due to the fact that you had been struggling in that chair for hours on end, trying to break free. That damn apartment seemed to be in the end of the world, because no one on the floors above or below made a sound.

It was time to try something different, to put pride aside. You had full faith in your ability to act.

- Do you... really promise? - you asked, in a weak voice and with an innocent expression, which made apparent the tiredness you were feeling (on purpose, of course).

He broke into a big smile, crowned by his shiny, aligned teeth. He looked cheerful as a child who had just won a candy.

- Of course, my dear. - he replied, lightly touching your hand tied on the arm of the chair. His fingers were warm and soft.

You smiled back "timidly". You would lie masterfully, until you convinced that man to let you go. You knew you were able to do that, because it was a necessity.

- Then... I will collaborate.

Caressing your hand briefly, just before letting go and looking you in the eye, his smile lessened a little.

- Just know that liars are not treated so politely. - he murmured, in a practically humming way - And I always know when someone is trying to deceive me, my sweet. Always.

Suddenly, the touch of his fingers no longer seemed as gentle as before.

Jimin:

The man's eyes seemed to burn in his face, just as the hate burned inside you. He was lying beside a round table, stripped, staring at you through half-closed lids.

- This is kind of kinky, don't you agree? - he asked, breaking the silence, his legs spread in a careless pose as he watched you.

You wanted to scream. You pulled your arms out, listening to the clink of the metal rings and then feeling the physical immobility. Being chained to a cement wall by your wrists and ankles, standing for hours, was far from any pleasurable idea. That was a fucking torment.

- Fuck you, you crazy bastard! - you grunted, your voice hoarse in your scratched throat - If I ever have the opportunity, I swear I'll kill you!

He didn't smile, but something in the curve of his eyes exposed the fact that he was enjoying the scene. In a leap, he rose from his chair, an evil idea igniting in his mind.

- What if that opportunity reveals itself now? Could you kill me? - he purred, approaching cautiously. You didn't know if he was teasing or threatening you, as his body movements were unreadable.

- Chained here? How fair is this clash? It is obvious that you will win. - you spoke through, your head hanging forward. You were an accomplished fighter in the police, but no one with their arms and legs trapped would be able to win a hand-to-hand fight.

- Of course I'm going unchain you. I'll even give you some time to warm up. I like fairness in this type of game. - the way he spoke, with pleasure, showed an insatiable desire for combat. You wanted to punch him.

- How can I be sure that you will not cheat? You are a fucking mafious.

This time, he laughed sharply, putting his hands on his stomach.

- I promise you that our fight will be fair, based only on the skills of each one. Especially because, if I win, my only prize will be to chain you back on this wall right here. - he got close enough to hold the sides of your waist with his hands, more firmly than expected. You forced yourself not to shudder - And while I really appreciate the sight, it is nothing that I haven't already seen.

You thought about attacking him right there, but it was better to wait a little more. Using his hands on your waist as a support, he started to unchain you.

Taehyung:

The boy was standing, his back against one of the only walls of the ruined building. The empty terrain you were on was extensive and the wind was blowing strong, turning all that vastness into a damn desert of grassy ice.

You were standing a few feet away, with nothing to hinder your movements. Still, you couldn't move, as you knew he had confiscated your loaded gun and was now keeping it in his pants pocket, ready in case any attempt was made to escape. You didn't want the same thing that happened to your two coworkers, now two bodies lying on the ground in the woods, to happen to you.

- Will you tell or not? - the man asked, boredom evident on his face. His voice was low, peaceful as a lullaby.

- I won't. - you said, shivering from the wind and nervousness. Nothing mattered now, not even your life: you had vowed to keep the investigation a secret, and that's what you would do. You would die with honor, just like the others.

Arching one of his thick eyebrows, he remained still. His mouth went up in one corner, in a angled smile.

- Ah, too bad.

- Shoot fast, can you? - you shouted back, extremely tired of it. You wanted it to end fast.

- I will not shoot you. You are useful, unlike your unintelligent colleagues who tried to attack me.

You clenched your teeth, the sound of the wind almost deafening your ears.

- What are you going to do then?

Wiping the hair off his forehead, which insisted on sliding in all directions, he waved a hand, turning the loaded revolver in one finger.

- Ah, I decided to let your teammates answer the call that the... deceased agents sent on the radio. They will get here behind this wall, as it is the easiest way to access the terrain. - observing the barrel of the gun and then opening the magazine to see how much ammunition was inside, he continued: - It is always good to practice my shooting from a long distance, just to not lose the practice.

Wide-eyed, the scenario in which your colleagues were killed one by one by shots from a hidden sniper crossed your mind. It was terrible.

- But, if you like your colleagues very much and decide that your willingness to offer information is greater than my intention to play target shooting, it may be that things happen in a much easier way. - he stated.

Jungkook:

He almost never looked up from the ground, and when he did, his eyes kept hidden under the brim of his hat. Not that it was easy to spot anything inside a dark and metallic bunker, in which you could barely move because you were handcuffed to the table fixed on the floor.

After hesitating for a long time, the man with tattoos on his fingers sitting in front of you finally spoke:

- You have to answer. I am here just following orders, and you are delaying my other appointments. - if there was something behind which he could hide, he would probably do it. But not out of fear... it was for another reason.

- I already said I won't tell you anything. You can kill me already, dumb child. - you almost roared, the rage accumulated in hours of silence revolting inside you.

Yes, even though he was partially hidden by the shadows, the fact that he was young was evident. More a shy boy than a silent man.

His eyes widening in shock, he stepped back a few inches. With an increasingly wheezing breath, he got up and walked to a door in the corner of the bunker.

- You're making things more difficult for both of us. - he said, with a dangerous tone.

Opening the hidden door with a single movement of his drawing-covered hand, he revealed a gagged figure, struggling and muttering in a useless way: your partner in the police and best friend, Denyel.

You gasped with fright when his figure became visible, his body covered in sweat. With a sudden tug, the tattooed man dragged your friend over to the chair where he himself had been sitting before, forcing him to settle down.

- With each denied answer, a little bit of his life is gone. - the boy's voice was now expressionless, and his hands moved quickly as he took dozens of knives from the belt under his coat and placed them on the table, with a clang - I can make it drag on for hours, believe me. I know exactly how much "life" to remove until there is no more of it left.

That's it for now! Did you like it? Tell me your opinion and your suggestions, my dear reader.

If you want to request anything, send me your ideas!

The images used on this post are not mine. Credits to the owners.

Kisses from the Goblin Kingdom! :)

#bts mafia fic #bts mafia au #kpop reactions #reaction #writing #imagines #fanfiction #bts #kpop mafia #kpop imagines #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #goblin king #x y/n #bts x reader

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: The last two chapters of this story (19 and 20) are currently being written y’all. I wrote this book faster than I thought I would...

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death/dying, sexual assault

Word Count: 2176

————————————

Chapter 4: Moved On, Too

“Okay, but just so we’re clear on the finer details,” Klaus started as he and Five exited the latter’s room, gaining the attention of (Y/N), who was in her own bedroom. “I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Five answered as (Y/N) joined them in the hallway.

“What’s our cover story?” Klaus questioned, looking between the two teenagers. Five furrowed his brows and shook his head a little in confusion.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I mean, was I really young when I had you? Like, sixteen? Like, young and…,” Klaus dramatically placed his hands over his chest. “terribly misguided?”

“Sure.”

“Your mother, that slut. Whoever she was. We met at…” He trailed off in thought. (Y/N) thought to humor them a little.

“The disco?”

“The disco! That’s, good, (Y/N)! Okay? Remember that,” He excitedly agreed, Five muttering a ‘you’re unbelievable’ to the girl as Klaus continued on with his story. “Oh, my god, the sex was amaaaazing.”

“What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain.” Five began walking away. (Y/N) followed him as Klaus stayed back in thought.

“Wait, what about (Y/N)?” He asked, the two turning back to him. “Who is she gonna be?”

“She’s my friend.” Five plainly answered, Klaus gasping.

“Or girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Oh, you two don’t have to kiss! We gotta sell it and you two have way too much chemistry to be just friends.” He pointed between the two, (Y/N) and Five rolling their eyes in irritation. She’d be lying if she said she disagreed, and it wouldn’t have bothered her to pretend to be Five’s girlfriend, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Especially not now.

Huffing, Five looked to his brother again. “If I say yes, will you shut up and come on?”

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

At Meritech Prosthetics, the three Hargreeves were sat in front of the executive’s desk. Well, (Y/N) and Klaus were sitting, Five was standing in between them, his jaw severely clenched as he listened to the man speak, “Like I said to your son and his girlfriend earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client’s consent, I simply can’t help you.”

“Well, we can’t get consent if you don’t give us a name.” Five grit his teeth as he leaned forward.

“Well, that’s not my problem. Sorry. Now, there’s really nothing more I can do, so-”

“And what about my consent?” Klaus suddenly spoke up, the three turning to him with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?” The executive questioned.

“Who gave you permission… to lay your hands… on my son?” He took a shaky breath and pointed at Five. Both the executive and the boy let out a ‘what?’. “You heard me.”

“I didn’t touch your son.”

“Oh, really?” Klaus stood up from his chair, and (Y/N) knew what he was going to do next was not going to be good. “Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?”

“He doesn’t have a swollen-” The man was cut off when Klaus struck Five in the mouth. The boy grunted on impact and (Y/N) quickly stood, in total shock. Did Klaus really just hit his brother across the face? The Seance turned to the man and leaned forward against the desk.

“I want it. Name, please. Now.”

“You’re crazy.” The executive pointed up at him, receiving a chuckle in response. (Y/N) went to Five’s side and silently checked his lip. It wasn’t bleeding too bad, but he definitely had a mark from it. He gently placed a hand on her wrist to let her know that he was fine.

“You got no idea,” Klaus then picked up a snowglobe that was sitting on the desk and smiled at it. “‘Peace on Earth’. That’s so sweet.” He remarked before smashing his head through it. Everyone jumped as glass shattered and fell from his bleeding head, a piece getting stuck in a strand of his hair. “God, that hurt!” He groaned.

The man quickly picked up the phone. “I’m calling secur- What are you doing?!” He exclaimed as Klaus snatched the phone from him and held it up to his ear, a gasp leaving his lips.

“There’s been an assault… in Mr Big’s office, and we need security, now. Schnell!” As he hung up the phone, the man could only stare up at him in fear. Klaus sighed and seemingly shook off the pain in his head. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen, Grant.”

“It’s… Lance-”

“In about sixty seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they’re gonna wonder ‘what the hell happened?’,” (Y/N) glanced over at Five who, despite his bleeding lip, was smirking at Lance. “And we’re gonna tell them that you… beat the shit out of us,” And just when they thought he was done, he quickly grabbed (Y/N) by her wrist and yanked her to his side. “And that you inappropriately touched my son’s girlfriend.”

“What?!” Lance and (Y/N) exclaimed. Klaus gently pushed her behind him and patted her head.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you can say it…” He gently spoke. It was silent for a minute and Lance was frantically glancing between her and Klaus. Eventually, she cleared her throat.

“I-I told him to stop.”

“Oh… You’re gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh, my god, you’re gonna get passed around like a…,” Klaus circled his hips. “You’re just- You’re gonna do great. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Jesus, you are a real sick bastard.” Lance shakily spoke as he looked around at the three. Klaus simply nodded at him.

“Thank you.” He whispered, spitting a glass shard out of his mouth.

It was safe to say that Lance was convinced to give them the information they needed. He led them to a desk and started going through a drawer, occasionally glancing up at Klaus, who was sitting on the desk and sweetly smiling at him. (Y/N) was sitting on the desk on the other side as Five simply sat in a chair in front of him. Finding the folder he needed, Lance started looking through it. “Oh, that’s strange.”

“What?” Five frowned.

“Uh, the eye. It hasn’t been purchased by a client yet.” The executive explained as Klaus hopped off the desk and got in his personal space.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number…,” He trailed off and was clearly uncomfortable by Klaus stalking behind him. Lance frowned as he scanned the information. “This can’t be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?”

Five sighed and locked eyes with (Y/N), whose were staring back in concern.

As the three walked out of the lab, Five and Klaus started to get into an argument about why the eye was important, but (Y/N) couldn’t have been bothered to listen at the moment. She was wondering how Michael and Jada were doing. Have they eaten yet? Of course, they have. Mom’s taking good care of them. Well, what about Michael? Is he getting homework done? I really hope he isn’t slacking off...

She stopped when she noticed Klaus and Five weren’t walking with her anymore. She turned to see them on the stairs in front of the lab.

“Hey, you know, I’ve just realized why you’re so uptight,” Klaus gestured towards his crotch. “You must be horny as hell!” He laughed. (Y/N) contemplated whether or not she really wanted to listen to this, but joined them anyway. “All those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head, being alone.”

“Well…,” Five started quietly. “I wasn’t alone.” This caught both their attention. Klaus raised a brow.

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“Her name was Delores,” He told after a second of silence. “We were together for over thirty years.”

“Whatever happened to the clone I sent after you?” (Y/N) questioned. “Did it get left behind before you jumped? I told it to look after you.”

“Must’ve left it in 2002… It was just me and Delores throughout the apocalypse.”

Delores. That name again… sounded so familiar. (Y/N) was honestly very happy for Five. Happy that he wasn’t alone, happy that he’d moved on from whatever they had as kids. She’d done it, after all. So, she couldn’t have asked him to not do the same. Though, she couldn’t help the pit that formed in her stomach at the thought of it. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Klaus yelling about his money. Only then did she notice that Five had left in a cab. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and took her wallet out of her jacket pocket, handing a twenty to her brother.

“Buy yourself something pretty.”

“You are a saint, sister dear.”

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

Returning to the Academy, (Y/N) found Allison in one of the upstairs rooms, sitting on the windowsill and smoking a cigarette. She tilted her head with a smile before silently walking up to her. “Hey, Ally.”

“Oh, shit,” Allison jumped and turned to her sister. “Jesus, (Y/N), you can’t do that.”

“May I?” She held her hand out for the cig, Allison raising a brow before handing it over. She watched her sister take a long drag as she sat beside her on the windowsill. (Y/N) raised a brow at her. “What?” She exhaled the smoke.

“Nothing… It’s just that… I thought you were trying to quit.”

“Yeah, Anthony would’ve wanted me to… but I really need it right now,” She heavily sighed before staring up at the night sky. “I miss my babies…”

“That makes two of us,” Allison shook her head and took back the cigarette once it was handed back to her. “God, what I would give to know how she’s doing…”

“Why don’t you call?”

“Because Patrick is being a grade A asshole… He wouldn’t let me speak to her.”

“What an ass,” (Y/N) shook her head. “If Anthony and I had ever split up, I would’ve never kept the kids from him… What’d you ever seen in him?”

“I don’t know…,” Allison leaned her head back, eyes sliding to her sister. “Speaking of rocky relationships… What’s going on with you and Five?” Her question made (Y/N) quickly sit up. “Oh, come on, you two were smitten when we were kids! Everyone knew it.”

(Y/N) shook her head and plucked the white stick out of Allison’s hand. “We’re not starting with this, Ally. Nothing is going on. We’ve both moved on from that shit.”

“That shit? That ‘shit’ was love and it’s still there. Neither of you truly moved on.”

“Well, Five definitely did. Told me about a woman he was with for years. Delores…”

“Oh, Delores… You think she’s cute?” Allison teased, receiving a shove. She laughed and shoved (Y/N) back. “I’m being serious!”

“You know she is, Five wouldn’t go with some hag, even if she was the last woman on Earth… Probably a babe, even at fifty-eight…”

“You sound… so jealous right now.” There was a long silence between the two, Allison waiting patiently for her sister to respond, but she laughed at what she said next,

“Piss off, Allison.”

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

The wind howled as Five spun his body around, still taking in what was left around him. Right by his side was (Y/N)’s clone, seemingly observing the current state he was in. Its eyes moved all around his face, then to his current line of vision. A single hand stuck out of the debris not too far away from him, holding what looked to be a bloody eyeball. Quickly moving forward, Five bent down and pried it out of the dead hand and wiped off the blood before looking to who the hand belonged to. His stomach dropped when he got his answer.

Luther -- or who he assumed was Luther, older and dead, crushed under rubble. Moving around the area, he found Allison, Diego and Klaus in the same state. All older, all buried under remains, and all dead. He had been staring at Klaus’s lifeless body when he heard rustling from a little ways away. Turning in the direction, he saw the clone moving some bricks around. Five made his way over to it, and what he saw made him collapse to his knees immediately.

There was (Y/N). His (Y/N). Bleeding from her mouth due to the rubble that was once crushing her, now moved away by her own clone. She was the same age as their siblings, the light from her (e/c) eyes slowly draining as her fingers slightly twitched. Right as Five went to hold her hand, her body gave one last twitch before going completely still, her eyes devoid of any light they’ve ever had.

————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom

#the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #tua five #five x reader #number five #number five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #of starlight #umbrella academy #tua

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers: Part 10 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

synopsis: reveal, don't conceal.

wc: 1.4k

tw: none

masterlist

"Come out one at a time with your hands up."

You stand idly by as the militia pulls people out of the SUVs; lingering behind Suguru as he watches the former members of the CSB kneel on the ground and be restrained with zip ties. When you see the familiar pink hair of Yuji Itadori, you start a little, eyes widening as he lays on the ground and is zip tied before being brought to his feet and made to kneel beside another comrade of his.

Of yours.

You can't see all of the faces, but the fact that Yuji made it out alive meant that he would try his best to get the others out alive. And that's enough for you.

A sea of about eighty people are kneeling on the cold floor of the aircraft hangar beside the main building, and every single one of them is restrained.

"Your entire organization has been burnt to the ground," Suguru begins. "And you come to me to get answers?" No one speaks. The implications of his words are enough to make everyone in the area gulp hard. "Why not ask your Grand Council?" Suguru wonders and chuckles from the guards echo around the room.

"We did," a voice - Nobara Kugisaki - calls out, and you raise onto the tips of your toes to try and see her. "but they sent us away without an answer."

"What about your leaders?"

Another silence.

"One of you tell me what truly happened. And be quick about it, my patience does not extend far."

"They sent..." Choso. "They sent in people we did not know to gun us down. We were all gathered in the Grand Hall, where we originally thought we would be informed about the next steps to take since we filed our grievances."

"And?"

"They told us to go to our barracks and wait for further instruction. The massacre started as soon as lights went out."

"It was so dark," someone cries out, sniffling. "They shot my partner before... before--" Various people begin to sob, and you grab Suguru's arm, looking over at the group sadly. Every single one of them had escaped from hell, and now they're here, looking to the both of you for help. Suguru peers over his shoulder at you, face set in a grim expression.

"Maybe we should give them some time before we ask them about everything," you whisper.

"The sooner we know as much as we can, the safer we'll be," he replies, turning back to the crowd in front of him. "All of those who work for us will be brought to the conference room. The rest of you will be given a good meal and put in temporary residences. You will be heavily guarded and watched. You will not be permitted to leave the Fallen Sun District until we have determined that everything is safe. Communication with your families that reside outside of the district will be cut off, and communication with the media will be punished. Guard set A, take those who are our agents. Guard set B, take the others away."

_____________________________________________________________

You sit beside Suguru in the conference room, arms crossed. You all look at the agents filing in, and Choso comes in as the last one - which isn't really a surprise - capping off the small crowd of ten double agents.

"I need details," Suguru states, and looks back at the person at the door, who nods and switches off the lights. A projector switches on, and an aerial map of the CSB headquarters comes on the whiteboard wall. "Where did the chaos begin? Where was Toji? Yuki? Gojo? And where are they now?"

"From the South Wing down to the Cafeteria, then the killers split up and took the East, North, and West Wing," someone mentions, and Suguru draws lines in accordance with the account.

"And the leaders of each faction?"

"Gojo disappeared long before the massacre began, but I know Toji orchestrated the attack," Choso answers.

"How?" you wonder, squinting your eyes. "And don't tell me you caught him talking about it in the open and said nothing."

"That's how it happened," Choso states grimly. "I'm the one who sent the email. I thought you would come and help us, Suguru." Suguru doesn't reply, staring at the aerial map and biting the inside of his cheek. "Those people died because you didn't come to help us. Do you know how many bodies I had to crawl over just to get to freedom? How many people had been shot down in their beds?"

"You know I know what that's like," Suguru replies tersely. "You know I know what it's like to have no fucking help."

"Then why? Why did you let us be slaughtered like animals, Suguru? Why couldn't you just do the right thing and come and help us? You put us in that mess! And you left us to die!" Choso stands up suddenly and produces a revolver from the inside of his coat, and points it at you. Guards instantly unholster their weapons and aim them at Choso, red lights pointed at his entire body.

"Don't shoot!" you cry out, hands up. "Don't shoot him!"

"Is it because of her?" Choso wonders, eyes empty and devoid of compassion. "Did she tell you to stay put?"

"Don't shoot!" you repeat, bullets of sweat running down your body inside of the vest. "Don't shoot."

"She told me to go and get you." Suguru finally answers, his own weapon pointed at Choso. "She wanted to save everyone's life."

"And why didn't you?" Choso whispers, gun still aimed at you.

"Because I didn't have time. And I didn't have the resources. You, out of everyone here, should know I would put my life on the line for my people when I can." Choso chokes out a sob, dropping the gun and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of tears. His piercing cries echo in the small room, and you rush to his side, holding him close to you. He sobs into your shoulder, whispering apologies and shaking furiously.

"Don't apologize," you whisper, rubbing his back slowly and methodically. "It's okay. You've been through a lot, and just need to rest."

_____________________________________________________________

"I'm going to the media to break the story," you mention, facing Suguru as he brushes his teeth.

"What?" he cries out, mouth full of white foam. "No. You're not going anywhere. Too risky."

"Send a guard with me, then."

"No." He spits into the sink, and you cross your arms, frowning. "I'm not giving you permission to do that. If Toji pops up, you're fucked. I'm not taking that chance."

"So you can't leak an interview with me? Like the ones we recovered from the Archives?" Suguru braces himself on the sink, hair falling down his face and shielding his expression from view.

"Babe," Suguru breathes, sighing and shaking his head. "It's possible."

"I'll tell my story. I'll leave you out of it."

"You can't tell your story without me," Suguru whispers, tying his hair back with the rubber band around his wrist. "Do you think we should get other stories corroborating ours?"

"Yes," you answer immediately. "A thousand times, yes." Suguru's onyx eyes drop to the sink, and you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his large frame. "Do you trust me?"

He places his hands on yours and nods slowly.

"I trust you," he murmurs. "And I love you."

"I love you, too."

Four hours later, you're sitting in front of a camera, eyes staring into the lens with the intensity of your mother and father's expressions in their own videos.

"Ready?" Suguru wonders, leaning over and touching your hand from behind the camera.

"Ready." He clicks the record button, and a red light begins to flash.

"My name is Y/n, and I am a former Kitsune. Over seven months ago, I began my career with the CSB, and since my time there, I have learned so much about their inner workings, their scandal coverups, and how they tried to end my life not too long ago." You swallow hard, tears coming to your eyes. But you inhale deeply, pushing the emotion down as far as it will go. "You may have heard that I was kidnapped by those who run the Fallen Sun district. But that is simply not true," you assert, shaking your head once. "Everything you know about the CSB is a lie."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru

[threeminutesoflife]

Have You Any Wool?

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Reader Warning: 18+, dub/con, manhandling/rough sex, breath play/choking, unprotected sex Summary: Engagement dinner with Ransom doesn't go as planned Word Count: 3.2k

The car ride home was silent, tense. The car bounced causing Ransom to grumble when it caught the edge of a pothole. One more thing that was surely your fault.

Ten more minutes passed until Ransom broke the silence by revisiting the earlier accusation, “You were flirting with him. Might as well have pulled your top down when talking to that fucking prick.”

“If I exposed my tits every time I talked to a prick, I’d constantly be topless around you.”

Ransom shot you a glare as the car whipped the curve out of the city and down a remote road, “It’d be safer for you to only be concerned about my prick.”

Your fingers dug into the car door as he straightened out the vehicle, “What did you-”

“Smarter. It’d be smarter for you to only be concerned about me- and my huge prick.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you- there was no flirting.”

“Could have fucking fooled me with those exchanges tossed around.”

“What the hell, Ransom, you’re ridiculous. There were no secret coded exchanges. Nothing said was of value.”

“Sure. Nothing. Whatever you say.” You didn’t have to look at your boyfriend to know he rolled his eyes at least twice when spitting out those words.

“What is wrong with you? Whatever untrue scene you cooked up in your crazy head- knock it off.”

Ransom scoffed out your name, “I know what I fucking saw.”

“Oh my god-“

“No, I’m Ransom. Your boyfriend,” his eyes staying on the road as he spoke heatedly at you, “but I know how you’ve recently become confused on our roles to each other. So let me break it down- really fucking simply for you. I don’t loan my toys out for others to play with.”

“Fucking hell, Ransom-“

“Hugh… I think, I’ll have you address me as Hugh from now on.”

Taking your beaded clutch, you smacked Ransom’s bicep, “How about I call you ‘asshole’ and tell you to lose my number!”

Ransom growled and grabbed your purse as he weaved along the isolated lane. Taking the clutch, he smacked your thigh in return and tossed it out his window.

You screeched seeing your belongings fly across the wooded night sky, “Are you insane?! Pullover! Pullover right the fuck now! Everything I have is in there!”

Ransom pressed down harder on the gas pedal, propelling you back against your seat. “You have me- that’s all that fucking matters. Fran can play fetch and get it tomorrow.”

“You can’t just order her- Ugh- Pull over right now, Ransom! Goddammit, you’re unbelievable! I need my keys, my phone, my fucking wallet! It’s all in there, you asshole!”

Ransom only picked out one thing from your rant, “I’m the asshole? What kind of grade A bullshit are you feeding yourself to believe that? You were the one flirting with someone in right front of me. I don’t need to be in this relationship, you know. Plenty of people want me.”

Your eyes narrowed at that, “Then let me out here if that’s how you really feel, asshole.”

Ransom ignored your challenge and the look you shot him to smugly add, “Besides, seems like you’re up shit’s creek without a paddle. No keys? Guess you need me pretty fucking badly now.”

He squeezed your thigh and slid he hand down closer to the apex of your thighs.

“Are you crazy?” You pushed his hand away and pressed your knees together tightly. “Are you seriously getting off on being a complete shitwad to me? And- hey asshole, look at me- he was the waiter. The waiter. He asked if we wanted dessert. Meaning you and me, Ransom- not him and me. With your sweet tooth, of course I asked about the dessert options! For you, Hugh.”

You flipped his car’s heater on with more force than necessary. Really at this point, all you wanted to do was smash every button and rearrange all his settings into chaos. “All this fighting, you’d think the rage would keep me warm. But no, it’s freezing in here!”

“Maybe try wearing more clothes and not letting your nips slip out to random men.” Ransom flipped the heater off with a smirk, “Should have brought a sweater.”

“I hope you fucking choke on your sweater,” You mumbled as you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling cold and vulnerable.

Ransom arched an eyebrow at your wish and internally gloated when you ran your hands over your arms, trying to warm up.

You refused to acknowledge him, keeping your eyes pointed out the window. “Just take me home. I know you keep my spare key on you.”

Ransom smacked the steering wheel in annoyance with how the evening went, making you slightly flinch.

He had been anxious all day and well-aware he was acting like a dick to you at the moment. But the untouched ring box in his coat pocket felt too heavy for him to speak kindly to anyone tonight, even you.

Ransom had been nervous since picking up the archaic piece of jewelry. A feeling that left him sneering at a weak characteristic of humanity. He wasn’t a soft individual, but he wasn’t as abrasive around you.

He knew he wanted you as soon as you met and rejected him, only then to turn around and tell him to meet you in the restroom at the charity event. He walked in expecting to receive a blowjob and gift you with a beaded necklace. Instead, he was surprised and became more aroused when you lifted up your gown and instructed him to get on his knees and press his lips to yours.

He had this night planned for a long time- the setting, the restaurant, little details ironed and starched out. But when he arrived at the perfect restaurant, he was quickly pulled aside- as perfect you was led away to the perfect table- and was quietly informed that the perfect waiter, who he perfectly coached to ensure the perfect timing, was perfectly out sick.

The stand-in waiter was a shit show, and Ransom was convinced the guy couldn’t even shit in a pile.

Besides being on edge all night from his nerves, Ransom was now on edge from the imbecile who couldn’t time the courses correctly and wouldn’t stop talking to you like you were friends playing twenty questions.

It felt like he was watching the waiter attempt to speed date you, every time circling around your seat with more questions. What are your side dish preferences, would you like more cheese, how about more pepper, would you like your glass refilled?

Were you actually flirting with the waiter? No, you were being a polite customer. But at that point of the night, all Ransom could focus on was the wasted time he spent on the preparations and his perfect proposal going down a perfectly shit-filled toilet.

But then as negativity was drowning Ransom’s thoughts, you did that thing only you could do.

You knew something was wrong with Ransom without having to ask. You took his hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. A tilt of your head as you bit your lip and smiled endearingly at him. He felt your thumb rub the back of his hand, each graze softer than the last. He felt the sincerity in your smile and saw the concern in your eyes. You treated him in a way that was far better than he deserved- a way he didn’t know he wanted to be treated until meeting you.

And this was it. This was the moment he planned for.

You cemented it with that serene look of adoration for him.

This was right, this was perfect.

He gave a crooked smile and thumbed his pocket for the ring box. Clearing his throat, he softly said your name. Almost too softly, because you half-laughed and looked at him with a look of cute confusion. He held your hand just a little bit tighter, a little bit more desperate. He leaned in closer from across the table and-

The waiter came back and interrupted the moment by asking about dessert. As you pulled your hands away from Ransom, you smiled politely at the waiter. Ransom felt you and your obvious answer of yes slip away from him. And he was pissed.

As the ring grew cold again in the velvet box, he vowed with every bite of the overpriced, sickly-sweet dessert he’d never eat here again.

Ransom shook his head at the tension refilling the car. The ring still stashed away in his coat pocket, teasing him with how it wasn’t warming on your finger.

The ring was still cold, but his annoyance and sweater kept him plenty warm.

He’d make up for the fight later. You were his. You’d forgive him, you always did. But first, finding a small amount of humor in his ill-aimed anger, he turned the air conditioning on. Before you could protest, Ransom flipped on the radio and raised the volume to drown out the inevitable sound of your chattering teeth.

Shifting in your seat to find a comfortable spot, you kicked off your heels. Debating which was worse- cold feet or sore feet? Biting your tongue at Ransom’s childish air conditioning antics, you weren’t about to address him more than you’d have to. You were annoyed with yourself for agreeing to eat at this out-of-the-way restaurant, and even more annoyed at yourself for losing your purse to your and Ransom’s tempers.

---

“This is not my house, Ransom,” you weren’t surprised to see he only drove where he wanted to go.

“Get out, we’re having makeup sex.”

You kept your arms crossed in annoyance and didn’t move. “Wow, so romantic. Hugh Ransom Drysdale, everyone- the last true Renaissance man.”

Ransom inhaled deeply, half-amused and half-not at your dry sense of humor, “Grab your shoes or leave'em, I really don’t care. But your ass is going to be out of this car and cupped in my fucking hands within the next five minutes.”

“I am too fucking cold for these games, Hugh. Some asshole kept the air conditioner on and wouldn’t lend me a sweater. You want us to stop fighting? Fine, we’ve stopped. But we are not fucking. Now take me home.”

“We are home. Get out or I’ll move you, y/n.”

Something about Ransom’s tone made your legs flex and your knees press together. He knew it would draw a reaction from you, it always did. You sat up straighter, your core awaking at the thought of him manhandling and manipulating your body into various positions.

Smugness twisted in Ransom’s smile as he undid your seatbelt, “Look at you rubbing those thighs together, baby. You whine about going home but we both know you’re only going to end up in my bed. If we even make it that far.”

Ransom slammed the driver's door closed and came around to your side as you tried to downplay your interest and focus on your annoyance with him instead.

He opened your door and rested against it, “Out. Before I help you.”

You grabbed a high heel from the floor and pointed it at Ransom with each word, “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Ransom dove at you, grabbing you roughly out of the car, “You’re pissing me off, y/n.”

You yelped when he flung you over his broad shoulder, your stomach pressed painfully into him.

“And I have to say, I fucking like it,” Ransom smacked your ass and kicked the car door close.

The high heel abandoned on the ground as he made his way into the house with you.

He kneaded your freshly spanked cheek, only to smack it again, “Keep screaming. Make a scene. I know you’re wet and ready.”

Ransom dropped you on the bed to bounce about as he took off his sweater and dropped it behind you on the mattress. “Strip.”

Your eyes dart over Ransom’s chest and up to his eyes. You were still miffed with his attitude tonight, but when he became forceful and unpredictable like this- you couldn’t wait for the release.

Ransom kicked your knees apart and stepped one leg in between your open thighs. “I know, my girl. Fuck, I can smell my girl. Strip before I rip it off you.”

You jumped up and caught his face in your hands, crashing your lips against his. Teeth, tongue, bitten lips, all clashing over his; the desperation and hunger for it all felt more like a tactical advance than a romantic gesture.

Ransom pulled away first and chuckled darkly, “It’s always a sexual rollercoaster with you.”

His fingers snaked across the top of your sweetheart neckline and he slid two fingers underneath the material. He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly dipped his fingers up and down along your smooth skin.

Moving his fingers over your clavicle and up your neck, he laid them across your lips as you opened your mouth. Your tongue darted out, circling and wetting his fingers, anticipating him to insert his fingers in your mouth as you parted your lips more.

But he pulled away surprising you, and moved them back down to the top of your dress. Dipping his fingers between your cleavage, the cool air hit your skin along the wet trail he left.

“You’re a stubborn little tease, baby. Now, what did I tell you to do?” His hand came out from the top of your dress to grip the delicate material. Ransom jerked you close to him and bent his knee, your core hitting against his thigh as you stumbled into his chest.

Your eyes closed at the contact, your clit eager for more friction and attention. Biting your lip, you decided to change his command slightly and started undoing his belt. Ransom’s hips jolted out towards you as you tugged the leather lose. His grin widened when you tossed it on the floor and dipped your hands in his boxers.

Reaching behind you, he unzipped your dress. The tips of his fingers lingered down your spine. Ransom leaned into your neck, his teeth slowly nipped and his lips gently bruised your skin as his fingers dug into your hips. The dress pooled around your ankles, his pants followed. You stripped each other bare, a veil of soft intimacy hung around you both.

You cupped Ransom’s cheek with a soft smile, “Hi.”

A furrow started in his brow at your voice and before you had time to think, you were taken by surprise.

Ransom shoved you backwards, disliking the tenderness only you brought out in him.

Your head snapped against the mattress as your legs fell open, pussy glistening. Startled by his abruptness, you shouted out, “Asshole.”

“Oh, we’ll revisit that area again, princess- but I have something planned for you first.”

Ransom grabbed your ankles and yanked you across the bed to him. Gripping your hips, he flipped you over onto your stomach. He ignored your protests and slapped your bottom, sending a jolt through you.

Ransom’s hands ran up the back of your legs, his thumbs dipped between the apex of your wet thighs.

He moved his slick-coated thumbs along the crease of your cheeks, “Go on, keep crying wolf, baby. We both know you like it.”

His words made you involuntarily lift your ass off the bed, welcoming him to tease you more. Pulling you up to his chest, Ransom dropped his arms around the front of your waist and rocked his erection against your ass.

His lips ghosted your ear, his long fingers teased your clit, “Turn over, lay down. You’re going to like this.”

Breaking away from Ransom you dropped to all fours but didn’t refused to move further, and watched him spit and stroke himself over your shoulder.

He looked down at you, an eyebrow raised at your delay, “Fucking stubborn. Fine, I’ll make sure you love this.”

Ransom jumped at you, grabbing your shoulder and collaring your neck. He twisted you over onto your back and pressed his weight into your chest. His hold tightened around your neck and your knees fell apart inviting him closer to your core.

“So beautiful, aren’t you?” He lined himself up to your entrance. “So fucking sure of yourself,” he groaned as he felt you stretch around him. “So fucking sure-”

He pressed his fingers harder into the column of your throat as he pushed himself deeper into you, “I won’t hurt you, much.”

One of your legs hooked around his waist, both of your arms around his torso as he dragged himself in and out of you. You concentrated on your breathing and the chaotic fluttering in your core.

Every push into you, Ransom held your throat tighter; every pull away from you, he loosened his grip.

“You still cold, baby?” Ransom mocked and rolled his hips deep into you.

A mangled moan and a hard press of your heel on his ass was your reply.

“Here,” Ransom rocked back on his heels, pulling you back with him and down onto his cock with a tilt. “Let me warm you up some more.”

His knees dug into the mattress while your bottom was suspended in the air, each ass cheek in Ransom’s hands while your legs were wrapped high around his waist. He watched himself slide in and out of you, glistening. Your moans filled the room and nails bit into his forearms as you matched each other’s pace.

“Fuck.. Ransom..” You patted wildly. “Oh my god...”

He rolled his hips and snapped into you harder, arrogance and pleasure rolling off him.

Keeping himself inside you, Ransom dropped your bottom and bridged himself over you, his arms caging you under him, “Gotta get you warmer, baby.”

Without slowing his pace, he reached for the discarded sweater with one hand and looped it around your neck.

He felt your pussy clench as he made the knot. Your whimper cut off as Ransom tightened the wool sleeve around your throat.

With one hard yank on the sweater, he dove himself deeper in your pussy. Your cervix hurt but you were never wetter.

“That’s it, baby,” Ransom murmured above you, watching your reactions, all your tells, as he fucked you faster. “Fuck! Can feel you trying to milk my cock. So.. close.”

The sweater knotted in his hand as he braced his weight on his elbows. A tighter twist with a dirty roll of his hips. Your ankles locked above his ass as he slammed you over the edge.

“Right there, baby,” Ransom cupped your face, twisted the sweater tighter and roared, “RIGHT... THE... FUCK… THERE!”

Your mouth fell open and vision whitened as you shattered around him, your cunt convulsing and squeezing him. Ransom loosened the sweater and grabbed your face as he rutted into you.

His rhythm lost as he kissed your cheeks and brought you back to him, “So good, baby. My fucking girl.”

You pulled his lips to yours and swallowed his moans as he found his own release in you.

---

Ransom climbed back in bed, the sounds of your steady breathing filled the room as he nestled himself behind you. He pulled your back closer to his chest and slipped his leg between yours. Pressing his thigh against your core, he smirked feeling his dried release still staining your skin. Tomorrow morning, you would notice the ring on your finger. But by then, it would be warm on your skin and remain there. It didn’t matter to Ransom that he hadn’t asked you, you were his.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom x reader #Knives Out fanfiction #ransom drysdale imagine #soft!dark ransom x reader

[troublesomeshika]

Come back (pt 2)

shikamaru nara x gn!reader word count: 1.5k warnings: swearing, some blood, angst part 1, part 2

It had been days since you’d left your house. Unable to even look at the door without breaking down, you’d mainly stayed in your bedroom, only coming out to cook meals. You knew you had to leave at some point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not when you could run into him at any moment. It wasn’t like you’d had a reason to either, you were enjoying some well earned time off. If Shikamaru had to gall to assign you to another mission now.... well you were just glad he hadn’t.

As soon as the thought finished forming in your head you heard something at the window. Glancing over, a small bird was perched on the window. You let out a groan. Of course. You went to run your hands through your hair, but felt the dirt and grease that was the result of only showering once in the past week. It wouldn’t do to show up to the Hokage’s office like this, especially if he was going to be there. Sighing, you walked to your bathroom to begin the process of making yourself presentable. Once you were ready, you stared at yourself in the mirror. “Okay, deep breathes. Just don’t look at him, it’ll be fine.” You exhaled, slipped on your shoes, and left your house. The walk to the Hokage’s building was terrible. Every step made your head and heart jostle around. Aside from the headache you were quickly developing, every step confused your feelings. You had no clue how you would react when you saw Shikamaru. You knew every part of you would want to return right to his arms and apologize. You should apologize, but you couldn’t. Because he was at fault too. He’d hurt you, and he was going to know that. Just because you couldn’t imagine your life without him back then, didn’t mean you weren’t going to do your best to prove you were doing just fine on your own now.

You hurried to the Hokage’s office, knowing the extra time spent cleaning up would be for nothing if you made Lord Kakashi wait. You knocked lightly on the door before hearing a “Come in.” from inside. Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. Rolling your shoulders back, you opened the door and stepped inside. You bowed, “Lord Kakashi, you summoned me?” You flashed a smile as you focused your eyes on his, resisting the urge to glance at the figure standing beside him.

“Yes, I understand you just came back from a month long mission about a week ago, but we are short on ninja currently.” You nodded. “I’m going to have to send you out again, I’m very sorry.”

“Of course, I understand my lord. I’m happy to do my duty.”

“Yes, thank you. The mission details are on this scroll,” he slid a small scroll across the desk, “and due to how short handed we are currently, there will only be two of you on this S-rank mission.” You reached forward, “You’ll be transporting highly classified information alongside Shikamaru.” You’d just picked up the scroll and you almost dropped it. Trying to maintain your composure you stood straight up, gripping it tightly. 

“My lord, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t think that’s best, Shikamaru and I-”

“If I understand correctly,” the Hokage cut you off, “you and Shikamaru are no longer.... seeing eye to eye. Yes, he mentioned something like that,” you couldn’t stop yourself from glaring at the man who refused to look your way, instead, opting to inspect the wall opposite him. “However, I am not sending you on this mission as friends, or anything else. You are being sent on this mission as leaf ninja. Therefore, I expect you to... do your duty,” He repeated your words, training his eyes on you, “and complete the mission as quickly and safely as you can. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, the scroll digging into your palm as you tried to hold back your feelings. You weren’t sure if you were seconds away from crying, yelling, or just collapsing. But whatever it was, it wouldn’t be pretty. Every part of you wanted something different, every cell was fighting with the ones around it, tearing you apart on a molecular level. You swallowed the lump of emotion in your throat and managed a, “Yes, Lord Hokage.” You quickly bowed and excused yourself. Walking swiftly to the training grounds, you stripped off your jacket, throwing the scroll down on top of it. God, you couldn’t catch a break. Squaring up with the wooden target, you began throwing punch after punch. Your knuckles began to bleed lightly, but you continued, the target barely visible through your watery vision. You weren’t sure when the tears had started, or whether they were from sadness or anger, but they flowed steadily and silently. The only sounds were your grunts, the thwack of bare skin against wood, and the occasional crunch from something in the bushes. You paused, wiping your nose and cheeks with the palm of your hand. Breathing heavily, you let out a guttural sound. Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. You raised your hands again, ready to continue your assault on the wooden dummy, but after you pulled your arm back to throw the punch, your arm refused to budge from its position. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, there was still too much emotion within you that needed to be released, no, something else held you back. “What the fuck?” you exclaimed out loud. There was a soft crunch of grass behind you, and it dawned on you. “Motherfucker....” you breathed out. “Shikamaru Nara if you don’t let me go right now, I will rip you apart and feed you to Lord Hokage’s ninken.” 

There was a soft chuckle from behind you, “I don’t think they’d find me very appetizing.” 

“Bastard. I can’t believe you’re fucking laughing.” You spit, unable to turn to face him. You felt your arms move to your sides, and your body slowly turned around. You felt glad you’d stopped to wipe your tears, the only emotions left on your face were anger and annoyance. “You set this up. You walked out on me, and then you put us on a fucking mission together. What the hell?” you groaned, “And give me back my body already.”

“I think I’m gonna keep the jutsu in place a little longer,” he eyed your knuckles, “and despite what you may think, no, I didn’t set this up. I don’t want to be on this mission any more than you do, it’s a drag.” 

“Oh yeah? Because you’re in charge of mission assignments. Besides, you’ve lied to me before,” you sneered, “so forgive me if I no longer take you at your word.”

“God Y/N, it’s not my fault you believed everything I said! Besides, you practically shoved me out the door.” 

Your finger twitched, his jutsu was weakening as his focus drifted. “Yeah well, you were the one who walked out, not me.” 

He rolled his eyes. “What did you want me to do?” 

“Stay! Like you fucking promised you asshole!” You couldn’t even remember what it was you had been fighting about that night before it had devolved into shouting. Silence hung in the air between you, and a small drop of blood trickled down your fingertip.

“If it means anything, I love you.” 

"Could’ve fooled me. We’re gonna complete this mission, and when we get back, you’re going to put me on the first undercover mission that comes across your desk.” You were staring daggers into his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the pain so clearly evident on his face. 

“God you’re a hassle. Is that really what you want? First you want me to stay and now you can’t wait to get away from me? How am I supposed to understand you?”

You laughed, but it was devoid of any humour. “I don’t know, Shikamaru. You’re the genius. Why don’t you figure it out?” There was a bitter taste in your mouth as you stood in front of him. All you wanted was for him to wrap his arms around you so you could finally break down. But he didn’t. Instead he stood there staring at you.

His face twisted in a way you’d never seen. “Fine, you want your body back? You wanna run away from this? I may have been the one who walked out the door but it was only because you refused to face our issues. So go ahead,” his shadow retreated and you regained control over your muscles, “run away.” he paused, “You know I never thought I’d see the bravest ninja I know, who swore they’d never back down, running away from something. Guess even I can’t predict everything.” His eyes narrowed as you stalked over to your jacket, snatching up the scroll and throwing the jacket around your shoulders. Without a word, you turned your back on him, clenching your teeth and hiding the tears burning in your eyes. You tried to blink them away as they threatened to spill over. “The village gate. 2 hours.” you choked out trying not to let him see how your body was shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. 

As he watched you walk off, Shikamaru sighed and dragged a hand over his face.

“God Y/N. What happened to all our promises?”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

hi! i wasn’t planning on continuing Come Back, but I was persuaded! i’m playing the plot by ear, so i’m sorry if it’s not super great! feel free to message or send asks/requests!

- ☆  

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru nara #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru angst #shikamaru x you #naruto imagines #naruto #imagine #anime #shikamaru nara angst #shikamaru nara x (y/n) #shikamaru x (y/n) #reader insert

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.

——————

Chapter 1 in case you missed it:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference

——————

“Humans are [and text here]”

Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?

Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.

His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.

“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.

“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.

“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”

“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.

“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.

“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.

“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.

“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.

“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.

Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”

“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.

“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.

“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.

“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.

“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.

“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.

“Right… What is your diet?”

“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.

“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.

“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.

“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?

“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.

“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”

Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”

“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?

“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.

“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.

——————

Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.

“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.

“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.

“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.

There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.

“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.

“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.

“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.

Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.

After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.

Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.

“Report.” The dreamon commanded.

“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.

“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.

“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.

“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.

Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.

——————

Chapter 2- End

Words~ 1774

——————

End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...

——————

Chapter 3:

——————

Wilbur:

#my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #sapnap #dream mcyt #tommy mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #space au

[hskrealm]

memories. (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: angst, smut, a liiittle bit of fluff in some places

word count: 6.2k (it wasn’t supposed to be this LONG IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE)

 warnings: eh where do i start... reader is VERY traumatized, she’s kinda crazy too (just a little) mentions of major character death, familial issues, this fic is just very dark for like the first 2k words lol, yoongi loves his fucking sword, commoner!yoongi, king!yoongi, criminal!reader, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, hair pulling, dom!yoongi, etc.

summary: “We can save the details for later. I accept your apology, and I really want to fucking kiss you.”

notes: inspired by @dontaskshhhhh and the daechwita mv. there’s probably many typos as usual y’all—

Even though you were a lowlife, you couldn’t stand being handled roughly.

It wasn’t your fault that you had an unfortunate upbringing. Your parents were very wealthy when you were born, but after the family business failed due to illegal scamming and falsifying of information, you were left to support yourself.

Literally. They didn’t give you a single thing to live off of after the age of five, which was fine. Your grandparents took after you, and once you were able to have a say in it, you decided to never set foot in the presence of your mother and father again if you could help it.

All was fine up for the next twelve years after that, until your grandparents bailed out on you too. Something about not having the funds to support all three of you financially, although they had several beach houses to their names, and enormous retirement checks to rely on.

You had gotten used to being given up on by this point, so you weren’t as emotionally devastated as you should’ve been when you’d come home from school one day, and your grandparents had all of your belongings packed up by the front door with a nice little note on top to let you know that you’d have to find somewhere else to lay your head.

They didn’t even have the decency to tell you to fuck off in person. You laugh sometimes thinking about it, since that’s all you could do now. The past was behind you, and you can’t change it. You didn’t really want to, either, because you learned quite a bit from your younger self.

For starters, you learned from your previous encounters to never lay your trust in anyone ever again, even if they were to offer you everything you needed and more. You’d made this mistake too many times to make it again. Besides, if you couldn’t trust your own parents, then you’d be setting yourself up for failure if you decided to seek assurance in a stranger... no matter the relationship you may have developed with them.

Although you knew you couldn’t trust anyone, you quickly learned that it was okay to take advantage of help when it was given to you.

That is how you got back on your feet, after all.

You met a good group of people.

Well, good to you, but not to the law, or outsiders.

You didn’t trust them, but you allowed them to take you in. They were just like you; lost and traumatized, but they confided in one another. They didn’t really have a choice, since they only had each other.

You had an amazing run with them. They made you laugh, cry, and they supported you. Just like family, you supposed. You never had a stable family to compare the kind of love they gave you to, but you figured it’d be something similar.

You never had an abundance of anything, but you had just enough, and that was okay. You were never the type of girl who desired to live lavishly anyway.

It was remarkably easy for you to pick up on their habits. You had become keen on cheating, lying, and stealing after only two months of being in their company. It came easily to you, and you used your newly developed skills to wiggle your way in and out of certain situations.

You couldn’t wiggle your way out of this one, though. The cuffs on your wrists wouldn’t allow for that.

You sucked in a breath as you were thrown to the ground, your knees scraping against the material of your jeans as you made impact.

“Be any fucking rougher, could you?” You hissed toward the guard over your shoulder, although you wiggled your fingers nervously behind your back.

He smirked at you, stifling a laugh as he carried his muscular frame toward the large double doors that you were forced through moments prior to being manhandled toward the ground.

“Enjoy your last few moments of life, honey.” He spit, his face falling expressionless afterward as he allowed the doors to slam shut behind himself, leaving you to your thoughts. You couldn’t see his face, but you were certain that he was sporting a shit eating grin. If you could, you’d slap it off of his face.

You couldn’t see a thing in the room that you were in, and you began to grow anxious as the anticipation began to eat away at you, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your chest.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and held back a loud cry, your eyes watering as the realization finally settled upon you. You couldn’t keep up your tough girl exterior anymore, and you were going to die in this pitch black room at any moment.

What if this was part of the execution? What if the room was this dark purposefully? To add to the shock factor? That would be sure get someone shaken up, knowing they could be taken out by a gunshot, a quick slice of a sword, something hanging from the ceiling—

You paused, sniffing the tears away quickly. You knew your eyes would get puffy if you cried for any more than a few seconds, and you wanted to be remembered for being strong, not a wimp. News would spread quickly after your death, and you knew it would. It always did.

You evaluated your position for a moment. You were crying because you were afraid of death.

Seriously, you were afraid of something that was inevitable?

You choked back a laugh, a small smile cracking on your face before you burst out into a full on fit of giggles.

You wouldn’t be tortured to death, and you knew that for sure. That sort of punishment was only allowed for sexual crimes, acts of severe hatred, domestic abuse, or murder.

You’d be killed quickly, and you were crying because of that? You’d have lost all of your street credit if word got back to your little gang.

You looked like a lunatic. Knees pressed into the ground, hands behind your back, and laughing wildly as strands of your hair flew onto your face from the occasional draft that would flow through the room.

You knew it, too, but you picked up this tip from a certain black haired boy with a scar over his eye. He used to be involved with your group of criminals.

He told you to laugh in any situation where you were put under extreme pressure. You told him that he was crazy for giving you such shitty advice, but once you tried it after being taken into custody for the first crime, you realized that he may have given you some valuable information.

“You’ll either relax a bit and take some of the stress off, or they’ll think you’re crazy and let you go. Win win, right?”

You smiled as your laughter began to die out.

You’d always remember Yoongi, but he was dead to you now.

He was the only person in that group that you connected with. Still, you didn’t trust him, but you could rely on him to help you every now and then if you needed to.

He left without a word, something about wanting to better himself. He’d mentioned that a few times before he actually left, but you didn’t think he’d follow through.

That was the first time that you’d been physically hurt when someone important to you left.

You didn’t speak for a few weeks, laugh for months, or manage to take care of yourself properly for quite some time.

He was so important to you, and he knew it. He didn’t care though, because he still left. Why did you care then?

You didn’t.

You wouldn’t have to care about anything in a few more minutes.

You rolled your neck from side to side, shaking yourself free from any final thoughts as you waited patiently for your execution.

You considered begging for your life, but there was no reason to. You didn’t have anything to lose anymore.

You sat quietly for another minute or so.

Every muscle inside of your body tensed at the sound of leisurely paced footsteps striking against the ground. You felt like you were going to explode, but you managed to keep yourself together.

“Lift your head.”

You immediately obeyed the request, fearful that you’d be tortured immensely if you hadn’t.

You took a deep breath, stopping midway through it as you felt the cool metal of a sword press right under your chin.

The panic began to settle in again, and you began to fidget around like a fish out of water as the sword grazed the skin of your neck.

“Luckily for you, ________, stealing isn’t punishable by execution.” Your eyes ballooned out of your skull, and your mouth dried instantly as you fell into a coughing fit.

“You’d better hold your breath if you want to keep your life.” The person with the sword against your windpipe teased, and you shrieked in terror and disbelief as you confirmed that the voice belonged to who you thought was the rightful owner.

“YOONGI!” You screamed so loudly that your voice bounced off of the walls in the room and echoed back, possibly louder than the scream itself.

You weren’t sure if you screamed because he was the one threatening you with a weapon, or that there was still a very large sword pressed to your jugular even though he just said that stealing isn’t punishable by execution.

How would he know that, anyway?

The room began to lighten up at the same time the sword did against your neck. You were vaguely able to make out Yoongi’s figure in front of you.

You winced slightly as the lights brightened fully, and you came face to face with the sack of ass that left you to suffer years ago.

You checked your surroundings immediately afterward, confused to find that you were in the aisle of what you knew to be a temple.

Was this a fucking joke?

You weren’t sure of what to say. You had questions, obviously, but you also wanted to scream at him for being an asshat and playing such a dumb prank on you.

How are you supposed to start a conversation with someone that you hadn’t talked to in years, though?

Yoongi could read your confusion, a sadistic smile on his face as he walked toward you as if he had achieved something great.

He leaned down in front of you, a few pieces of his blonde hair brushing against your forehead. You thrashed around in the cuffs as he placed a light peck to your forehead, just as he did when the two of you were on good terms.

“Get the fuck off of me.” You threatened, and he hummed at your attitude.

“Still as gorgeous as ever, ________.” You bit down on the insides of your cheeks as he angled himself away from you.

He was as gorgeous as ever himself, the scar still perfectly etched into his skin as if it’d never heal, his face a bit more mature since the last time you saw him, and his hair a bright blonde instead of the shiny black it was a few years back.

You hated him.

“I hate you.” You voiced your thoughts, and Yoongi simply shrugged while taking a few steps backwards, maintaining his eye contact with you.

“You wouldn’t hate me if you knew what I’ve done for you.” He responded simply, his chocolate colored eyes squinted in distaste as he turned around on his heels, walking cooly to a chair that would’ve resembled a King’s throne.

It actually was a throne, but you didn’t understand why he was sitting on it. Min Yoongi was certainly no King. He was a rude and inconsiderate excuse of a friend.

Er, acquaintance, rather. You never really had friends, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, nose turned up in skepticism. Yoongi smiled a bit, licking his lips as he reminisced upon the events that happened a bit earlier today.

He saw you being dragged into the temple by one of his guards, struggling to keep your footsteps aligned due to the inability to control the pace of your walking.

He watched as the doors of the temple swung open and you were thrown to the ground harshly. He was hidden in the shadows as he observed the scene, immediately knowing that feisty voice of yours like the sword that he carried with him daily.

It was one of the things he loved most about you. After all, he was the one that practically made that part of you, and he didn’t regret it one bit.

It pained him to know that you were brought to him under terms of execution, but he assumed this would be the way you’d turn out if you continued to involve yourself with that group of people. That’s why he left you on your own.

Plus, the road to becoming King didn’t require the help of anyone else, and it certainly didn’t require yours. This was a task that he needed to complete on his own, and now that he had, his goal was simply to remain in power.

That’d be easy. People feared tyrants.

Yoongi was no tyrant, but he had tyrannical tendencies, one of them being participating in the execution of prisoners. Now, it was strictly prohibited for a King to execute a commoner, but he didn’t mind. Plus, he did sit back and watch most times as he was supposed to, so what was the harm?

He was the highest form of authority there was anyway, so who’d complain to him about what he could and couldn’t do?

He battled with himself to figure out a proper way to ease you out of this. He couldn’t outright call the execution off, and he knew that. No one would fear a King who spared the life of some measly village girl, and Yoongi craved the fear of his people.

Perhaps he could drag you elsewhere once the guard left. If he was to be questioned about it, he could mention something about needing to speak to you privately before your execution.

No, that’s dumb. Who’d believe that?

Maybe he could wait just until your execution was to take place, and halt it, saying that you were wrongly convicted of your crimes?

He couldn’t do that either. You’d been caught stealing multiple times before, and your criminal record was long enough to prove that you were the right person sentenced to death.

So, Yoongi lost about half of his dignity when he marched right up to the guard that dragged you inside, and asked him to let you be.

Of course, the guard agreed, but Yoongi’s ego had faltered momentarily.

He gained all of that dignity back, though, when he heard you scream his name while kneeling with your hands cuffed behind your back.

What a sight to see.

Yoongi glanced back down at you from his throne, a cocky smile on his face as he shifted his position in the gigantic chair, turning his body slightly sideways as he threw his legs over the side of it.

“Nothing, so I guess you’re right. I haven’t done a thing to help you.” He shrugged, bending over onto the ground to grab his scabbard. He slid the sword into it with practiced ease and dropped it to the ground.

The sound of the weapon scraping against the sides of the holder caused you to cringe, and you jumped as the sound of it hitting the floor bounced off of the walls a few times, just as your scream did earlier.

You gulped at the thought, wondering if he really would have killed you if he had gotten the chance.

“What’s your deal with them anyway?” Yoongi questioned after a few moments of thick silence. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes the moment he began to speak.

“I don’t have to answer anything you ask me, and it’s none of your business.” You responded, and Yoongi quirked an eyebrow.

“I would’ve assumed that you’d catch on a little earlier. You have always been a smart girl, but I suppose all of the thieving and lying caught up with you after a few years.” You said nothing, suddenly feeling overwhelming guilt.

“You do have to answer everything I ask you, actually. I can’t kill you for stealing, but I can kill you for treason.” You scoffed. There he was, playing the royalty card again.

“Treason? Yoongi, give it up. You can’t be executed for treason toward a commoner. Have you lost your mind?” He narrowed his eyes at you and stood up, taking the short walk toward you again.

“You are a commoner, ________. I am not.” You were tired of his dumb breakdowns.

“What are you supposed to be then?” You smirked, and Yoongi returned the smirk with a lick of his lips.

You watched with furrowed eyebrows as he shrugged the thick black jacket he was wearing off of his slim shoulders, and you inhaled a shaky breath as you vaguely made out the emblem of the kingdom on both of his shoulders in the dim lighting of the temple.

“Oh my fucking God.” Your voice cracked as you whispered, your bottom lip trembling in defeat as you realized your humongous fuck up.

You slowly lifted your head, immediately meeting Yoongi’s eye contact. He jutted his bottom lip out to mock you, before quickly twisting his lips into a sly smile.

“You know what to do.” You nodded, lowering your upper body to the ground slowly.

You weren’t low enough to the ground for his liking, so he grabbed his sword and retrieved it from its covering, and pressed the dull side of it against the back of your head to force you lower. Your forehead was touching the ground.

“Better.” He sighed, holding you there for a few seconds before placing the sword back at his side. When you no longer felt the pressure of it on your head, you deemed it okay to lift yourself up.

Your mind was pooling with questions.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He joked, placing the sword in front of him as he stacked both of his hands onto its handle.

“How?” You asked weakly, and he feigned confusion.

“How are you King? You can’t be King with that scar over your eye.” You wanted to find any plausible fault to the idea that he was King.

“Why can’t I?” He asked with a cock of his head. The question was meant to be unanswered, but you stupidly responded anyway.

“The scar symbolizes impuriti—“

“Then I must be pretty powerful, hm?” He laughed, swinging the sword off of the ground to rest on top of his shoulder. He gave you a pity glance as he took a few steps to land himself behind you.

“I’m not going to put you in prison.” He sighed heavily, as if the admittance of him allowing you freedom hurt his conscious dearly.

“Why not?” You asked eagerly, trying desperately not to show how excited you were as your fingers twitched behind your back.

“I’m not going to imprison you, but I need you to make me a promise.” He said, removing the sword from his shoulder as he slid it in the space between your back and the chain of the handcuffs.

You stood deathly still.

“Anything.” You responded instantaneously. You’d regret it later.

Or maybe you wouldn’t.

“Don’t let me see your face around here again.” What?

Around the temple? In the village? Where were you supposed to go?

“I—“ He placed his foot against your lower back, digging his shoe into your skin through the fabric as he tugged the sword forcefully toward himself, successfully breaking the chain of the cuffs and sending it flying backward.

You moaned at the feeling, bringing your wrists in front of you as you twisted each of them around a few times to rid yourself of any stiff muscles.

“Get out.”

•••

“You called me back here?” You sighed, leaning your head against the opened doors as Yoongi hummed with a small nod.

“Yes, I did. Come in, and close the doors behind you.” You raised an eyebrow, although you shut the temple doors and walked down the aisle that would lead you to Yoongi’s throne.

He stood up from his royal seat, walking halfway down the aisle to meet you. You took the time to notice his appearance. He was dressed just like he was when you saw him a few years ago before he completely vanished. Baggy clothes, low rise sneakers, and a few chains dangling from his neck.

You held an unimpressed expression as you stood face to face with him, but seeing him dressed like this gave you a small bit of satisfaction. Of course, you wouldn’t tell him that though.

Unknown to you, Yoongi chose to dress like this to keep you comfortable with him. He needed you to be a bit vulnerable if you are going to hear him out, and he knew this would be one step closer to achieving that vulnerability.

Plus, he was taking you out today. Yes, to explain everything that’s happened during the past couple of years while he wasn’t around, but also for his personal satisfaction.

He missed you just as much as you missed him.

“We’re going to that little spot a few minutes away from here. The one we always used to—“

“I know, Yoongi. I really don’t want to bring up the past anymore.” You stopped him, holding your hand up as you cut him off in the middle of his sentence. You didn’t mean to come off so harshly, but the years of emotional trauma didn’t make that easy for you.

Yoongi nodded once, although he felt a little pang in his chest in you basically admitting that you didn’t want to go to the special place the two of you created a few years back, and you probably didn’t even want to be with him right now.

“Sure, okay.” He sighed, clearing his throat as he walked toward a hidden back entrance that he used at times to leave the temple.

You watched as he took his first few steps, before turning over his shoulder to stare at you with annoyance written all over his features.

“Are you going to follow me, or are you just going to stand there and look stupid?” You rolled your eyes and began to follow after him, Yoongi turning back toward the front once you caught up with him.

He continued to walk, and you desperately tried to fight the smile that was tugging at your lips as bits and pieces of the Yoongi you knew were starting to shine through.

•••

The walk to the secluded spot by that small river that you remember so fondly was uncomfortable and stuffy.

Neither of you said a word, simply letting the leaves crunching under the both of your shoes fill the silence.

The sun was beginning to set, and the rays cast a beautiful shadow over the river. It looked just as it did the last time you were here.

That day… that day was the happiest you’d been in years.

That was also the day Yoongi got his scar.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Yoongi asked, laughing loudly as he stumbled over a few branches while searching for you behind the trees and shrubs near the river.

“I’m never playing hide and seek with you again. You’re an asshole for this.” You chuckled, immediately clasping your hand over your mouth as you hoped desperately that he hadn’t heard.

But, it was Yoongi. Of course he’d heard.

“Your cute little laugh is going to get you in trouble.” You ducked lower behind the shrub in front of you, peering out over the edge to see if you could see his shadow approaching.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you couldn’t see him anymore, squinting and leaning forward a bit to see if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

Yoongi snuck up behind you, cursing under his breath when you snapped your head in his direction.

You hadn’t fully processed that it was Yoongi when he finally came into view and attempted to scare you, so you pushed him backward roughly. This sent him tumbling over a rock, and his face smashed against the forest floor.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, running over to him, your black combat boots seeming to be too heavy at that moment.

He was breathing heavily and holding one side of his face, and when you rolled him onto his back, the sight of the blood creeping between his fingers was enough to make you pull him up to his feet, and you dragged him all the way back to the village within a handful of minutes.

You had ripped off a piece of your oversized shirt and wrapped it over his eyes sometime during this process.

The two of you were spotted by a group of people as you neared the village again, and they helped you pull Yoongi to the home of a medic who would sew his skin together.

He had the stitches for two months, and even after they removed, he still had the scar.

You felt terrible, but you never got the chance to apologize.

He left the day after his stitches were removed.

“________.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip.

“________!” Yoongi shouted, and you came to with a small jolt.

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled from your lips effortlessly, and it felt so, so good after all these years.

You walked quickly to meet Yoongi as he sat near the edge of the river, the wind blowing lightly which made his hair a disheveled mess.

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi.” You repeated, clearly this time as you sat down next to him, keeping a few feet between the two of you because you weren’t sure where your emotions were at the moment, and you certainly weren’t sure what he was feeling.

There was an awkward silence.

“What?” He laughed, the confusion evident on his face.

“What are you talking about?” You scratched nervously at your arm as he scooted a bit closer to you.

A part of you wanted to condemn him, but a larger part of you wanted him to stay right next to you.

“I’m really sorry about the scar. You left before I could apologize, and it’s been making me feel so guilty for the past couple of years, but—“ Yoongi shook his head, taking your hand into his as he intertwined your fingers with his, just like he used to back then.

You let your hand flop loosely in his.

“Isn’t it a little obvious that I don’t mind it? If anything, I’m happy that you fucked my face up.” He joked, his gummy smile slowly fading as he looked from the river to your paling face.

“Why’d you leave?” You asked, the light mood falling. Yoongi took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He knew he couldn’t avoid this question, but he hoped that you’d at least wait a bit before bringing up this topic.

“I told you, I need to better myself.” You let go of his hand.

“Bullshit!” You exclaimed, Yoongi simply turning his head to look at you as your face began to heat in anger.

“It had something to do with me, and I know it does. Why lie now? Why bring me to this special spot to lie, Yoongi?” He took a small gulp, looking away from you and out toward the landscape. He couldn’t utter these next few words while staring at your face.

“I wouldn’t have become King if I was in love with a criminal.” He stated nonchalantly. You froze.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You stood up, and Yoongi stood up as well, just in case you were planning to run away and get yourself into trouble as you usually did when you couldn’t handle your emotions.

“I had to let you go if I wanted to change, ________. You’re not good for me, and I’m not good for you.” His voice began to thin out the longer he spoke, fighting back a sob.

“Are you trying to say that I’m a bad influence?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Are you seriously trying to say that I am not good for you , when you’re the person that I got into the most trouble with in that entire fucking group?” You shook your head as you spoke, refusing to believe that he was saying you weren’t good for him.

“Why don’t you tell me the real reason that you left, hm? I can handle the truth, and I deserve to know after waiting for so long. Believe me, you won’t have to worry about seeing me again after this.” Yoongi was seething, his hands clenched into fists by his sides as he tried to steady his breathing.

He wasn’t going to get angry.

He was going to explain himself to you calmly.

“Did you not just hear me fucking say that I’m in love with you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, as he began to take slow strides toward you.

You’d seemed to have forgotten that in the midst of your yelling at him.

“I taught you a handful of things back then, but I’m fairly sure that knowing when to shut up was one of them.” You looked over your shoulder as you took a step backward whenever he took one forward, but if you continued like this then you’d end up with your back against a tree.

This was not some cliche love story, and you weren’t the main character.

You stepped to the side to avoid bumping into the tree.

Yoongi took a side step as well, standing still for a few seconds before he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pressed you up against the tree by his arm.

“You were going to hinder me from my goal, ________. There’s no way in hell I’d be able to focus while having you by my side.” His grip on you loosened as he continued to speak.

“I thought if I was away from you that I’d forget about everything, but that made it worse. There wasn’t a single day that came where you wouldn’t pass my mind.” You pressed your head backwards against the tree in exasperation.

“Why couldn’t you take me with you?” You asked, sadness evident in your voice. Yoongi’s heart clenched as he read you like his favorite book.

“I wanted you to be there for the result, not the work that it took to get there. I’d come back for you when I was better off, but I didn’t have to. You came to me.” Yoongi leaned in closer toward you.

“Well, you didn’t come to me, per say. I brought you to me.” You scoffed.

“You did what?” Dealing with him was an emotional roller coaster, but you still wanted the first seat on the ride.

“We can save the details for later. I accept your apology, and I really want to fucking kiss you.” You opened your mouth to respond, but Yoongi leaned in for this kiss anyway.

He molded his soft lips against yours with ease. You awkwardly left your eyes open, but upon seeing him with his closed as the passion radiated in the way he kissed you, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to slip into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, the kiss quickly shifting from pure and energetic love to uncontrollable and messy lust for one another.

Yoongi broke the kiss first, and you chased his lips as he pulled away. You whimpered in defeat as he used his grip on your waist to turn you around, your hands pressed against the bark of the tree.

He roughly tugged your jeans down your legs, not having the patience to unbutton them fully. You flinched as you heard a twig snap somewhere in the distance, and you looked over your shoulder at Yoongi with fear etched onto your features.

“We’re going to get fucking caught.” You laughed, although you were deathly afraid of being found with the King’s dick buried snuggly inside of your pulsing cunt.

“I’m a King, baby. I’m the boss. I don’t give a fuck about someone stumbling back here.” He spoke, while working quickly at the zipper of his jeans.

“Besides, I’ll be quick.” He moaned out in satisfaction as he finally freed his cock from its confines. He tugged your panties to the side with one of his fingers, slapping his length against your throbbing clit a handful of times before lining himself up with your inviting warmth.

“Kind of difficult—oh shit,” He paused in the middle of his sentence as he slid his cock into you, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of being so full after so, so long.

“Kind of difficult to wait for something that you’ve been wanting for a—for a while, especially when it’s right in front of you.” He huffed into your ear, gathering your hair up in one of his hands to force you to arch you back more.

“Fuck. You okay, baby girl? I know this is a tight fit, cause you’re squeezing the shit out of my dick.” Yoongi waited patiently for your okay, although that didn’t stop him from rocking his hips against you slowly to offer himself some sort of relief.

“‘m okay. Just fuck me, please.” You begged, and Yoongi hastily obliged. He kept his hand tangled between your locks, as he brought his free hand down to your hip.

He set a gut-destroying pace instantly, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass somehow louder than they’d be if the two of you were in a secluded room.

“You can consider this your punishment for giving me so much shit talk yesterday. Look at you now, huh? Can’t get a single fucking word out, can you?” You whined as he dug his fingernails into your hip, his thrusts so vigorous and powerful that you would scrape the skin of your thighs against the tree every now and then.

Your legs twitched as you neared your high, a noise sounding like somewhat of a feminine growl climbing its way out from the back of your throat as you held your breasts in your hands, flicking your nipples between your fingers to coax yourself closer to the edge.

“Good girl. Lose yourself on my cock.” Yoongi was near his climax as well, the way your pussy was sucking him in combined with his cock grazing the material of your panties every few thrusts enough to send him straight toward that euphoric feeling.

There was something so primal about him taking you up against a tree, where seemingly anyone could find the two of you. No strings attached (yet), just pure, sexual need.

“Cum with me. I want that.” Yoongi snarled into your ear, and you nodded eagerly as he slid his hand across your stomach and down toward your clit.

He only managed to rub a few quick circles against the sensitive nub before you began to thrash wildly underneath him.

“Stay still.” He warned you, and you tried desperately to obey him as hot bliss took over momentarily, and your muscles spasmed beneath Yoongi as he used your pussy to chase his high as well, pulling out to cum on your back.

He slid your pants back up, before turning you around to try and button them. You were shaking too much, though, and it was starting to frustrate him.

“________, stay st—SHIT!”

Yoongi yelled as he began to tumble backward, making sure to pull you with him this time.

Your intense shaking caused Yoongi to trip over himself and fall backward, causing the both of you to end up plummeting into the cold river water.

“Damnit!” You cursed, and Yoongi just laughed as he rubbed his eyes free of the water that managed to seep into them.

“You’re quite the klutz.” He commented, running his hand through his hair as he slyly noticed the way your shirt began to grow more and more sheer as it soaked in the water.

“You’re quite the asshole.” You playfully rolled your eyes, squealing when Yoongi snagged your shirt into his hands and pulled you into his hold once more.

“Accidents just seem to happen at this river, don’t they?” You asked, and Yoongi shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tucked your head underneath his chin.

“Yeah, but they’re also the best memories.” You tilted your head up to look at Yoongi’s face, and his eyes were closed.

Why do you always miss the memo?

Just as you were about to close your eyes, Yoongi splashed your face with a bit of water from the river.

You gasped and pulled away from him, mustering up the most threatening glare you could give.

“Why would you do that when I’m already wet?” He smirked.

“Hell yeah you are.”

“YOONGI!”

tag list! (let me know if you wanna be on it!)

@bitchyaus @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @lcnycto @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03

#blkjmn #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi au #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi au