#hair for 2 days after this so like that’s just... irritating. I won’t feel comfortable and clean and like that bugs me and egh. but mostly I

[munariplans]

is there someone else? | n. romanoff

synopsis: you and natasha have been going through a rough patch lately. wanda comes in and shows you everything natasha is unable to offer.

natasha romanoff x reader | slight wanda maximoff x reader

word count: 4.9k words

read part 2 here and part 3 here

warnings: angst, almost(?) cheating, discussions on pregnancy and treatments

masterlist

“nat, you have to be patient!”

“i am patient!” the woman before you screamed, red hair almost matching the redness on her features, as she gripped the edge of the table in your shared bedroom. “i have been patient; for days, weeks, months, i have been patient! but this is not working; whatever tony and bruce have been cooking in that lab, is not working!”

“these things take time; natasha, you cannot—”

“—no, not for me,” again, your wife cut you off; hot tears brimming in her eyes now, “not for me. It’s not a timing issue, it’s my body’s issue. the reverse hysterectomy doesn’t work, and the IVF won’t work either.”

this time, you knew better. reaching out towards her, you ignored her flailing arms half in protest, half in desperation, to push you away. you embraced natasha with all that you had; holding on to her as if it would piece her broken pieces back together. and it was precisely then that she broke down; her body physically melting against your own and her sobs filling the atmosphere of the quiet, bleak room. the room that had once been the sanctuary for the both of you; late night rendezvouses against the knowledge of the other avengers, patch-up sessions where natasha would trust you over any medic to see her scars and wounds and not judge, it was even the safest place for natasha to run into after particularly hard missions. 

The place still looked all the same, with the addition of Natasha’s belongings now taking up eighty-percent of your space (in what was essentially a room for one, but the both of you had been reluctant on upgrading to a bigger room in the compound with the memories made in your room). But the feeling was not the same. 

You held her tighter. “It’s only our fourth round, so what if it doesn’t work? We can always try again.”

“What if I’m tired?” She asked, voice too small, too fragile. “What if it doesn’t work again? What if it’s just a me problem? I can’t have children, I can’t give you a baby, and I never will.”

“Don’t say that, don’t say things like that.” Were the only comforting words you could offer, a little tired, a little irritated, at her repetition of insecurities being voiced after each IVF round the both of you went through. 

You led her to your shared bed, and when Natasha tried to reach out for you in the night, she felt you shift closer to the edge of the bed, and away from her. 

–

Common side effects of Natasha’s fertility treatments included frequent mood swings, this you knew from Bruce’s multiple warnings before. He had taken special care to explain it to you, and had even advised you to seek help from Clint if necessary. You remembered brushing him off with, “I think I can handle my wife’s emotions just fine.”

If only you knew what you were getting yourself into, you chided yourself now, staring at the back of Natasha’s head, sighing. A little pissy and agitated would be a fine understatement. 

You were the assigned leader for the mission; you had thought it was natural that everyone followed your instructions and heed your warnings. Not for Natasha. 

She had taken a path that was more direct to the enemy’s line of fire, and considering her complete disregard for her own safety, and the fact that it was right around the time that she could be pregnant from a previous round of treatments, it was very clear from your point of view that she was putting herself in imminent danger, and that you had to step in. 

You remembered Steve asking why Natasha was so far off from her tracker, and it was the moment everything clicked. You knew your wife. You knew precisely why she had taken off her tracker. 

“Nat, fall back.” You spoke into your comms, knowing full well she had heard you. There was no response. 

“Natasha. ”

Two enemies had thrown themselves at you, and in the time taken to take them down, Natasha still had not responded. 

You were about to call her for the third time when her comms crackled to you. “Kinda—busy—here.”

Behind her was the sound of gunfire. Screams, cries, the occasional thunk of metal hitting against bones. You thought it was natural that you freaked. 

“Natasha, I am this mission’s leader. I am ordering you to fall back, I repeat, fall back!”

“No! I can get the chip faster this way, I’m right in their comms room!”

“Agent Romanoff, this is not a request. If you don’t fall back now, I am reporting you to Fury for insubordination of a direct order.”

She had turned her comms off. The whole team practically heard you scream through their comms, “Fuck!”

Steve was kind enough to cover for your spot, while you ran headfirst into the comms room to extract Natasha. And although her being swarmed and outnumbered by a large margin of enemies was something you expected, it could not compare to the horror that spread through your system at the sight of her pinned down, gasping for air as an enemy tried to wrestle her for the gun she was holding.

He was gone in the next second, as Natasha rolled over to catch her breath. She cursed under her breath, preparing for the onslaught of another one tumbling towards her, but when it was you that filled her vision, helping her stand and leaning her onto your body, she wasn’t so sure if it was any better.

“I—told you—” Natasha tried to say, but you cut her off. 

“—You disobeyed a direct order, Nat. You could’ve gotten killed.”

–

Though, back in the quinjet, it felt as if the roles were completely reversed. Natasha was berating you in plain view of everyone else, while you could only sit back, and accept the harshest words that were coming out of your wife’s mouth. 

“Do you not trust me? How many missions have we been on together, and how many have I parted to take care of things on my own? How many missions have I gotten injured, or killed? I am not some fragile, brittle object, you know! I am—”

“—Romanoff, I think she gets your point,” Tony tried to cut in, but the glare shot his way was enough to make him shut his mouth faster than he had opened it. 

“—I am capable, and you know I was, of extracting the chip myself! We could’ve avoided so many casualties! And now, look where we are, no chip, building destroyed, and civilians dead. All because you wouldn’t trust me to be able to take care of myself.” Natasha jabbed her finger to your shoulder roughly, as if to only rub in your humiliation deeper.

But you only sighed, and stood up. A resigned look on your face, you called Peter forward, and as he approached the table nervously, eyes darting between you and Natasha, she spotted it. Spider-Man pulled the chip out of his suit, and handed it to you. 

You showed it off to her, and the rest of the team, and shook your head. “We would’ve gotten the chip regardless. You didn’t have to put yourself in unnecessary danger, and you didn’t have to undermine my leadership.”

You retreated back to the darkness of the quinjet, hearing Natasha sigh irritatedly and march right up to the front again. 

–

Halfway on the trip back home, Natasha finally made the decision of risking seeing you to get herself some water, seeing as the supply was all the way at the back of the jet. She had unbuckled her seatbelt, ordered Peter to step in for her, and made the short, but agitating journey to where you were. 

But you were not near your designated seat near the supplies, or anywhere where she thought you would be, as she unscrewed the water bottle and discretely scanned the jet for you. I’m not worried for her, I’m glad she’s not in my line of sight, is all. 

But what she saw next, as she was walking past another part of the jet, made her stop in her tracks. You were next to Wanda in the makeshift medical bay, your suit unzipped and tied around your waist, fireproofs lifted up to reveal a huge wound that Wanda was tending to. 

You seethed as the Scarlet Witch tried to draw back the bleeding with her magic, grabbing her hand and chanting, “Gentle, gentle, please.”

Fuck. Natasha couldn’t believe she missed out on the fact that you were injured. She had thought your gait looked a little strange when you were escorting her to safety earlier; and there was blood in her hands as she let go of you, but she had chalked it up to being an enemy’s. You had sat through her beration, her humiliation, and had said nothing to her of your injury.

Your eyes were shut, as Wanda navigated the stab wound, but her own eyes then drifted up, catching Natasha’s. The Scarlet Witch didn’t budge, looking up at Natasha almost in defiance, mostly in resentment. 

A weird feeling settled within the woman, but she shut the curtain to the medical bay, and returned to her seat. 

–

Natasha watched yours and Wanda’s friendship begin to bloom. It seemed as if the Avenger had found a solace within your company, as she naturally gravitated towards you in most social settings; team dinners, Tony’s outlandish parties, even during team meetings and discussions. In those moments, Natasha held your arm against hers closer, putting extra effort to drape her body as close to yours as possible as a warning. If you noticed (you did), you didn’t say anything to her, merely welcoming her into your open arms and letting her find comfort at the same time. 

However, no matter how much Natasha wanted to keep you close and all to herself, her own hormones got the best of her on her worst days. More IVF sessions had passed with little to no success, brimming and breaking hope simultaneously, and Natasha was finding it harder and harder to sit through you merely reassuring her that it takes time. On her worst nights, she would find even your mere presence in the room an abhorrent sight, instead shunning you out into the common areas or mentioning that she wanted to sleep alone tonight. 

Natasha never missed the heartbreak, or desperation, in your face. Perhaps you had been too nonchalant towards her mood swings, perhaps you had paid too little attention to her needs, or perhaps, and you hated yourself for thinking about it, Natasha was slowly growing out of love for you. You never missed the mixed emotions on hers, as you so often grabbed your pillows and headed out to sleep on the couch. 

–

One particular night, where a stupid argument about paperwork that you had syphoned off to Natasha, preventing her from going out into the field had ensued, and finished, it ended once again with her yelling at you to get out of the room and sleep somewhere else for the night. The both of you were certain, by that point, that the whole compound could hear all of the words exchanged and screams torn. But Natasha was headstrong, you never were, and you gave in, as always. 

Left with nothing but the bitter taste of Natasha accusing you of underestimating her, and the fact that your relationship was on such a thin thread that was affecting the morale of the whole team as well, you exited the room. 

But when Natasha tossed, and turned, and tossed again that night, the absence of your body beside hers and only the coolness of the sheets on her skin, the guilt began to settle in. As it always did. She could have been more thoughtful, should have considered your own workload, should have cared more about your feelings too. 

With tears hot in her eyes and a resolution to apologise, she left the room, still in her nightgown, to search for you in the common area. When she did find you, however, you were hunched over said paperwork that you had thought to pass off to her, the stack that she screamed would prevent her from going on her mission the next day. You had wanted to ensure that she could still go, eventually. 

She called out your name, but when you turned, all the apologies that she had wanted to spill, the invite to return back to your room, were silenced; for Wanda’s own head had popped up beside yours, evident that she had been laying on your lap and accompanying you at work. 

She realises that Wanda is there for you in all the ways she never was these days. She realises the outlet for you to share about your day, your frustrations and worries, was not her now. No, of course it wasn’t her, why would it be her? Not when she picks a fight for every little concern you voice out, not when she dismisses your every attempt to talk to her now. A scarier feeling began to form; Natasha realises that Wanda may be your home now, not her. 

“Yes, Nat?” You said, your face devoid of any emotion. 

She could have screamed, could have cried, could have threatened Wanda with death and tore her away from you right away. She could even have accused you of doing something you promised you would never do to her when you got together; but she didn’t. Natasha wanted to trust you, and she didn’t want her own insecurities to get the best of her, and the worst of you, again. 

Instead, all she did was nod towards Wanda, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. “N-Nothing. Come back to our room when you’re done with that. The bed’s too cold.”

–

It was in the way Wanda voluntarily paired herself up with you for missions. The way you could conveniently shove her out of the way of raining bullets, putting yourself in the line of fire for her without a second thought. 

The way you were the first person Wanda looks for at the end of said missions. The way you allow Wanda to ease her worries by laying her head against your shoulder afterwards. 

The way Wanda hugs you just a little too tight, too long, right after the team worries of your cut-off comms from a particularly hard mission. 

Natasha hates herself for noticing all of it. 

–

Tony called out your name to the common area one night, despite you and Natasha agreeing to have an early night-in for a round of doctor’s visits the next day. She was a little annoyed at you for being so ready to heed his request, but followed you anyway, hoping it would be quick. 

“As you can see,” Tony spread his arms, gesturing around the room to the other Avengers, “Your best friend isn’t around. She’s been gone from us for exactly two nights in a row now, and we want to know why.”

His game show host-style of speaking ticked you off, but you swallowed it down in favour of everyone else around, and smiled politely at him. He continued, “Rogers says it’s her time of the month, which, might be true, is totally boring and not helpful to this discussion at all. Danvers says she’s probably just sick of our shit, which, might also be true, but is being a Debby Downer and I do not stand for it. With the amount of vomiting Vision hears from his room, he says it’s because I gave her food poisoning when I tried to cook dinner on Monday, which is the least likely option there is, so I’m disregarding it. What do you say, huh?”

“She told me she has a stomach flu.”

This time, Thor chuckled from the corner of the room. Grinning, he sneaked in with, “Classic pregnancy symptoms, I say. Natasha’s been the one trying for a child, but have you accidentally knocked the wrong woman up, kid?”

He didn’t need your furious glare and Natasha’s choked sob behind you to know he had voiced out every insecurity of hers so perfectly, as the Black Widow practically stormed straight back to your room, with you hot on her heels, trying desperately to call out her name. 

–

“It was just a joke, Nat, and he knew it! You and I know it!”

“Was it really?” Natasha’s eyes were red and raw, throat hoarse from screaming, “Was it really a joke to you? Or have you really gone and fucked her and gotten her pregnant?!”

“That’s impossible and you know it!” You retorted, taking one step closer. Natasha took one step back. Your hands had raised, trying to reach out for her to see reason, but seeing her retreat only sent a knife straight to your heart, and you threw them up in the air, giving up. “Nat, I—I—Wanda’s a friend. That is all she is, all she will ever be. I don’t understand why—”

“—Do your friends touch you like I do? Do your friends get to lie their head on your shoulder, hug you goodbye and welcome home after every mission, be the outlet for your frustrations and worries, your celebrations and joy? Do your friends matter more than I do?” She cut you off, shoving you against the wall this time. 

You took the opportunity to grab her wrists, tilting your head so you were directly at her eye level. “Natasha.”

She refused to meet your eyes. “Natasha. Look at me.”

She shook her head, refusing to give in, refusing to let you see the insecurity, heartbreak, and jealousy in her green eyes, now dull and wearier than the emerald they once were. “Fuck you.”

“Natasha, what is going on with us?” You asked sincerely then, begging her to see reason, to see you. “We fight everyday, we barely spend any time together, and you don’t even bother trying to listen to me. To help me help you see reason. You hate me on most days, you despise what I am, what I do, and I don’t know how to fix this. Have I become so broken, so unlovable, that you cannot even stand to be in the same room as me anymore?”

Natasha slowly lifted her gaze, blinking away the tears. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“Because I don’t want to ruin whatever we have left!” You shouted, exasperated. “I don’t want to lose whatever shred of love my wife has left for me, I don’t want to make things worse, and I don’t want to make you feel worse. Tell me, is it the baby? Is us trying for a baby too much for you, Nat? Is this not something you want anymore? Because ever since we’ve started trying—”

“—It’s not the baby, it’s me,” Natasha freed her wrists from you, turning away. “It’s me, and my inability to be a wife, a proper wife, to you. Fuck, I can’t even give you one thing every married couple wishes for, a fucking child, and now you have to run off to an actual woman who can. I’m a fucking failure, that’s what I am.”

“Nat, not every couple wants—not every couple needs—a child. I’m perfectly happy with—”

“—Are you really? Are you really perfectly happy with the way things are? Do you not wish for more, something I can’t give? Someone who can understand you, love you, better than I can?”

You knew where this was going, and you rubbed your forehead in frustration. “What are you getting at, Natasha?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you.” 

You sighed. “I honestly don’t.”

“Of course you don’t!” Natasha’s voice broke, uttering the next words, “But I do. Because she looks at you the way I look at you. The way I wished you looked at me.” 

“Nat, don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself, and don’t do this to us. I can assure you Wanda is…is…” You trailed off, not believing the incredulity of it all. 

“Is what?” Natasha hoped with all of her heart you could finish the sentence. “Is what…? Tell me. Younger? Better? Easier to love, than I am?” 

But you could only shake your head once more, furrowing your eyebrows. “You know what, Nat? I give up. I truly give up. If you can’t get over yourself and your own insecurities, even though we are married, even if you knew I only love you, I cannot help you. I need a break…we need a break.” 

You didn’t tell her for how long, you didn’t tell her what you were going to do, or what she could do to fix things. You merely brushed past her body folding in on itself in anguish and absolute heartbreak, and packed your things. That night, you had left her all to herself, and she had only felt loneliness like this once. 

Suddenly, Natasha was twelve again, all alone in the Red Room to fend for herself. She had lost her parents, she had lost Yelena, and now, she had lost you too.

–

wanda was browsing through the menu, seated in front of you at the hotel balcony, celebrating the end of another successful mission together. it was a few weeks after the incident with natasha, and with no end goal or date in sight of when you were returning to her arms, you had resigned yourself to stick to wanda, much to the scarlet witch’s pleasure, too. 

“an aperol spritz or a negroni?” she had asked, but you were busy staring right at her. 

wanda’s eyes were blue, wide and ethereal. Her hair was a lighter colour than natasha’s, hands softer as they wrapped around yours, hugs tighter. 

natasha was all that you had ever known, and loved. you have been together for so long, you find it hard to believe that what you feel for wanda could ever be real. 

she was kind, patient and understanding; wanda never complained, never screamed or raised her voice at you. you remembered when the feeling began; the very night where natasha had practically banished you from your room, and her footsteps came pattering down to the common area where you were. wanda had just returned from a mission with thor and sam, but still insisted on staying up with you. as her head laid on your lap that night, her big, blue eyes staring up at yours, you felt something stir in your stomach; a feeling that you hadn’t felt in a long while with natasha. butterflies anew. 

you became concerned, protective, of wanda during missions. always worrying if she had eaten before a gruelling day, taking extra patience in training her for combat practice, you began wondering if you had really looked at her as just a friend all this while. when wanda and natasha both came home with a bullet graze on their arms on one mission, you found yourself worrying for wanda almost as much as you did for your wife. 

perhaps that was the moment you knew, and so did natasha. 

–

wanda called out your name lovingly, half-laughing as you stared into blank space yet again, dissociating as she stepped out of the shower. 

“you still upset that I chose the negroni?” she teased, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

getting up to change, you tried hard not to hyper-focus on the beads of water dripping down wanda’s body, as she bent down to find a spare change of fresh clothing. “of course. criminal, that you order everything but an aperol spritz in Italy, of all places.”

you found the t-shirt that she had been looking for, and whistled for her attention. but right as the woman stepped forward to take it off of you, you tugged it under her grip, side-stepping further into the room.

“apologise, for the spritz, for me, and everyone else in italy.”

wanda shot you an incredulous look, before your own serious resolve broke too, and the both of you ended up laughing, nearly tumbling forwards towards each other.  somewhere along the line, Wanda decided to take the opportunity to try to take the shirt, but your reflexes kicked in, and right as she reached forwards, you went for her legs; throwing her onto the bed to dodge her attack. 

giggling, still, Wanda tried to sit up as you pinned her down. but the woman managed to take one of your own, as she grabbed your hand, and with one swipe, had your wedding band in her left hand, taunting it over you. 

“got something of yours, too,” she grinned, handing out her other hand for an exchange, “Now give me my shirt.”

your eyes widened at the sight before you then. wanda, dressed only in a towel that was barely hiding anything from view, the compromising position you were in, the wedding band she had taken off of you at that moment. 

heart to heart, yours beating as fast as hers, wanda finally noticed too. slowly, but surely, her red magic came up to envelop the both of you, the warmth in them flowing through your senses, making your head fuzzy and lightheaded. 

she leaned up, mouth just inches from yours, hoping, begging, for you to close the distance. her towel had almost fallen off her body then, arms around your neck. if you dared look down, nothing would be hidden from view. 

“come on,” she murmured against your lips. 

you hesitated, the grip on her waist suddenly disappearing. “i…no.”

wanda pouted, you remembered shaking your head. “i’m married, wanda.”

“please.”

you snatched back your ring this time, throwing the t-shirt onto her body and looking away just as quickly. opening the door to the balcony, you found it hard to catch your breath. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”

–

though, that night, watching her sleeping figure sprawled out on the shared king bed, you took another swig of the gin leftover from the bar, wondering if you had made the right choice. 

the opportunity had presented itself, and yet you didn’t take it. 

natasha had left a text earlier on your phone, and you cursed when you remembered what date it was. it was almost an asshole move to simply text her back ‘happy anniversary to us’ too, when she had sent a long paragraph apologising for what she had done, and begged you to come back to celebrate your five-year wedding anniversary together. 

–

sleeping on the couch, and as far away from wanda as possible, you felt your phone vibrate in the middle of the night. 

getting up groggily, you had almost thrown it back to where it was, until another text came in, and another. they were from Natasha. 

i have to tell you something. you had texted her back with a question mark, but her only reply had been that she refused to tell you over text, and that you would only know when you got back. 

considering the state of your relationship with her, and the way you had practically ruined whatever hope of rekindling her affection for you with the anniversary text, you almost knew what it would be already. she would be taking the first step in ending your relationship, and marriage. 

looking back at wanda’s sleeping form then, you selfishly thought again if you should have proceeded with the kiss.

–

natasha was already waiting with the other avengers when your quinjet landed. wanda had gotten off first, looking back at you awkwardly, reaching her hand out to help you disembark, after an injury to your right rib. you smiled at her, but rejected her help. 

natasha strode towards you in two cool, calculated steps. you offered her a half-smile, but her face was determined, and hopeful. her arms were around your waist in the next second, and for the first time in the last year or so, the black widow tipped you over, pressing her lips against yours in the most passionate, loving kiss. In front of everyone, in front of fury, in front of wanda, natasha claimed you as hers. 

“what—” before you could finish your question, she was already dragging you to your shared room, leaving you even more confused than before. perhaps it was a goodbye kiss, perhaps natasha had felt the need to claim you one last time before parting ways, perhaps she had simply missed you over the time you were gone. the last one seemed most impossible. 

“sit.” she had gestured, forcing you on the bed. “close your eyes.”

you groaned, the injury on your ribs resurfacing. “nat, i’m really tired, the mission was a success but my side is—”

“please,” natasha begged this time, “please.”

you relented, and closed your eyes anyway, hoping whatever this was, would be over soon and that you could have a full night of uninterrupted sleep for once.

natasha rummaged for something in her bag, and opened your palm up. three small, plastic sticks were placed in them, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“open your eyes.” 

your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach when you saw what they were. time came to a standstill, the glaringly obvious image before you the prophecy for your past, present and future. three pregnancy tests, all positive. 

you finally looked back up at natasha, her eyes brimming with tears of joy and hope. her arms encircled your neck again then, tears fresh on your shoulder. 

“i’m pregnant,” she murmured into your skin, as if it would solve everything. as if it was the answer to all of your problems together. 

a/n: who's side are you on?

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #black widow #scarlet witch #marvel cinematic universe

[redrose10]

Here is chapter 2! Chapter 3 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated and inbox is also open. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 1,914

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

After getting home from signing the contract with Yoongi you started to worry that you had just thrown away the rest of your life to some man who couldn’t even look at you without turning his lips up in disgust which lead to a panic attack. Thankfully you were staying at Jimins and he was there to help you work through it reminding you that this was for the best and in the end it would all work out. You were hesitant but at this point there was no turning back anyways as you’d already signed your name. So you and Jimin decided to drown your sorrows in pizza and chocolate ice cream instead.

Waking up the next morning you felt like you got hit by a truck. Your body was sore and you could tell your face was swollen and raw from all of the crying. Wanting nothing more than to just stay in bed wrapped up in all the blankets, you purposely ignored the insistent knocking coming from the front door. When you realized that this person was not going to go away you got up throwing on an old sweatshirt and made your way to answer it. When you swung it open ready to snap at whoever couldn’t take the hint you were greeted with the same smell from the day before. Cinnamon and vanilla. Unfortunately the man standing infront of you did not match the same warm and comforting scent that he presented. He looked you up and down with one eyebrow raised, “So that’s what you decided to wear on our first date? I knew you weren’t much of a fashionista but I expected for you to at least have pants on.” Welcoming him in before shaking your head, “What date?” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose clearly irritated. “I texted you last night letting you know that my parents set up a reservation for us to have lunch and get to know each other. I had assumed you got the message or is reading not something you’ve mastered yet?” You bit your lip trying to stop it from shaking so you could hold back the tears threatening to spill. You didn’t understand why he had to be so mean to you. Yes this wasn’t ideal but you were willing to try and make it work or at the very least act civil. Why couldn’t he? It’s was all for his benefit anyways.

Yoongi noticed your tears and suddenly had a strange feeling course through his body. Was it guilt, regret, sadness? Either way he didn’t like it. No way was he going to let you chip away at his walls he worked so hard to put up. “Hurry up and change Y/N. I’m not going to be seen in public with you dressed like that.”, he said with a flick of his wrist shooing you away.

You quickly wiped away at the tears that were breaking through the dam as you made your way back to the spare bedroom. Digging through your clothes you knew you had nothing that would be up to Yoongi’s standards so you decided on a dark red sweater dress paired with black tights and black boots as it was starting to finally cool down in the city. You threw on some light make up and put your hair in a quick messy bun using a ribbon to tie a bow to add a simple accent. Grabbing your purse you took one final look in the mirror. You chuckled to yourself at your appearance and braced yourself for whatever snarky remark Yoongi was going to make about you.

Walking out to the living room you found him sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. You put on your best neutral face before making your presence known and announcing you were ready. Yoongi’s head lifted up and looked you up and down. You waited for his remark but he said nothing. Instead pushing past you to the front door holding it open and gesturing for you to lead the way.

The drive to the restaurant was surprisingly not as awkward as you had imagined. The restaurant, unsurprisingly, was extravagant and luxurious. The host sat the two of you at a private table towards the back corner and handed each of you a menu. Yoongi ordered the most expensive steak they had and paired it with a glass of whiskey. You on the other hand decided to go a more simple route and went with a chicken dish and a lemonade.

Yoongi sat looking at his phone, answering the occasional text message or email but ignoring your presence entirely.

“I thought your parents said we were supposed to get to know each other.”, you asked almost playfully.

You watched him roll his eyes at your statement but he put down his phone and gestured for you to continue.

Honestly you weren’t expecting that reaction so you didn’t know where to begin.

“Umm okay. What is your favorite color?”

He chuckled, “Don’t have one. I’m not a child.”

Alright, this will we harder than you thought. “What is your favorite thing to drink?”

He simply raises his glass of whiskey towards you and you nod while internally scolding yourself for such a stupid question.

You continue, “Do you have any hobbies or interests?”

“Well I like making and spending money, drinking whiskey, and women.”

Nodding your head in acceptance you’re pretty stumped on how to proceed at this point. “Anything you’d like to ask me?”, you questioned. “Nope.”, he said before taking a sip of his whiskey and returning back to his phone.

Thankfully the waiter returned placing your meals in front of you and the rest of the meal was spent in silence. You offered to pay for your lunch but Yoongi waved you off handing his card to the waiter. The ride back to Jimins was also silent and somehow more awkward than earlier and you couldn’t wait to get out of his car. The car had barely come to a stop before you were grabbing your belongings and reaching for the door handle.

“Thank you for lunch. It was very nice.”, you tried to be positive. He gave you a nod before turning his eyes back to the road. Just before you shut the door you heard your name whispered so you turned around and Yoongi was staring at you. “My assistant will contact you within the next week to set up a day for you to go over your selections for the wedding. Money is not an issue so you can pick whatever you want.”

You gave a small smile and shut the door watching as he sped off like he couldn’t get away from you quick enough.

The following day the announcement was made that Yoongi was set to be married. Social media sites were a mess trying to find out any information they could about the lucky woman that stole the heart of one of the worlds most eligible bachelors. Somehow they were able to find out most of your life story and plastered it all over their websites much to your dismay. It seemed like everything was working according to the plan. Most articles painted Yoongi to be the good hearted CEO that was turning his life around after falling in love with the a sweet foreigner who grew up as an orphan and was now set to marry a billionaire. One article even called you ‘A Real Life Cinderella’ which made you double over in laughter. If they only knew how your future husband was the farthest thing from a prince charming. You tossed your phone on the bed not wanting to read any more.

Just as he had said would happen Yoongi’s assistant contacted you about the wedding and that set off a whirlwind of events. The next two weeks were spent planning a wedding that you were trying your hardest to be excited for. Yoongi of course wanted no part of it so everything was on you. You left what you could up to the wedding planner. It didn’t even really feel like your wedding at this point so you didn’t feel the need to be apart of every decision anyways. Your only request being that the wedding flowers be Blue Hydrangeas which thankfully fit in with the theme that was planned.

The day of your wedding you slipped into the gown that was chosen for you. A beautiful one of a kind Valentino gown. The silhouette fit you perfectly with a train that was just long enough to be dramatic but not obnoxious. The lace detail along with the beading must’ve taken hours. The very low cut back made you feel beautiful and sexy. You’re sure the Mins had to pay extra to have it made in such short notice.

Hearing the door click shut you smiled when you turned around and saw Jimin walking over arms out ready to embrace you in a hug. “Wow Y/N, you look beautiful.” “Thank you Jimin. I guess a dress that costs more than a car can make anyone look good.”

He playfully shoved your shoulder. “Oh before I forget, Yoongi wanted me to give this to you.” Reaching for the black velvet box you gasped looking down at the two diamond earrings staring back at you. “Wow your man has good taste.”, Jimin chuckled. You softly scoffed to yourself while adding the earrings to your look. You figured Yoongi probably just had his assistant go out and buy the most expensive pair he could find. No way did Min Yoongi put thought and effort into a gift like this.

Standing behind the large double doors staring down at the bouquet in your hand you started questioning everything. You always believed in true love. Ever since you were a little girl you would imagine your own wedding. Never did you think you’d be in an arranged marriage and to someone who despises you so deeply.

Feeling someone squeeze your hand you looked up and saw Jimin giving you a comforting smile. You were thankful that he was there to walk you down the aisle. The music started as the double doors were swung open giving everyone the first look at the bride. Taking a deep breath you slowly walked down the aisle too afraid to make eye contact with Yoongi. You feared that if you saw him look down at you that you would just lose it and ruin your very expensive and time consuming makeup with tears.

Once at the alter you gave Jimin a kiss on the cheek and watched him walk off to his designated spot. Unfortunately, you could no longer avoid looking at Yoongi. But when you looked up it was worse than you could’ve imagined. Instead of looking down at you with disgust he wasn’t even looking at you at all. His eyes were fixated off to the side at something or someone in the audience. Following his direction you saw the cause of this distraction. A young beautiful blond woman wearing a dress that you would consider more appropriate for a club than a wedding. She was shyly giving him a discreet wave. Softly you whispered in shock to yourself getting the attention of your future husband who now looked back at you noticing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and for some reason he almost felt guilty. Almost.

#bts #bts fanfic #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #arranged marriage au #ceo au #suga #bts yoongi

[femscottlang]

The CPA and SSA- Part three

part one part two part three

Aaron Hotchner x accountant! reader

Summary- The case they're currently working on has gotten bad, the unsub has been stalking the team and they need a safe place to stay. Luckily, Aaron has a girlfriend in Arlington that he has yet to tell the team about. 

Contents/ warnings; description of cases, a little bit of hurt/comfort, established relationship, just overall kinda fluffy and sweet :) 

N/A- Sorry this took so long !! I am almost done with finals and will have a t o n of time to update and part 2 of S&M is coming soon!

Send me asks and requests! im happy to do blurbs on characters from CM and MCU :)

You silenced your watch buzzing against your wrist, opting for the vibration rather than an alarm in hopes of not waking the man holding you. You grumbled quietly and turned to face Aaron. This immediately erased your irritation from having to rise with the sun. For once, his brows were not furrowed and his face was completely relaxed. He looked 5 years younger with the worry washed away. You traced a finger along his jaw and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You struggled to wriggle out of his tight grasp, gently rolling the heavy sleeper over in order to finally escape. You stretched and then stood there watching him for another minute before going to the bathroom to get ready for the day 

Hotch rolled over to wrap his arms around you before feeling am empty space. He shot up before he heard the sink turn on and you humming along to the classical music playing quietly. He sighed with a smile and looked at his watch. 6:32 AM. Even though Jack wasn’t there, you kept to your routine of waking up earlier to take a little time to yourself to get ready before either of them woke up. He ran his fingers through his hair and rolled his shoulders back. You walked out as you were running a brush through your hair “I was just about to wake you up. Felt it was unfair to get you up at 6” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and kissing him on the cheek

“You know, I always wake up when you’re getting ready? I just don’t get out of bed so you can have your alone time” he mumbled, reaching out and pulling you into his chest “thank you” you rubbed his arm and tried to sit up “Aaron you're gonna wrinkle my work clothes” you squirmed “Hon, let me go!” you laughed as he squeezed tighter before letting you go, getting out of bed and helping you up 

“Do you have to go to work? Its honestly best if you don’t.” he said in a more serious tone. You looked at him for a second then huffed “should I really not go? Is it that serious?” 

He nodded “Please?” he added, giving a guilty smile, you reached around to run your fingers through the back of his hair, “I won’t go if it's that important to you. On one condition. You have to keep the shirt on until after breakfast.” you grinned, letting go of him and turning to look at the stupid shirt he had on. If you didn’t know any better you would have assumed he was like every other dad in DC, but Aaron was special. Different.

He groaned “Fine! Fine. I'll wear it.” he grumbled in defeat, running his fingers through his bedhead before leaning forward to put his head against your shoulder as a not-so-subtle way of smelling your perfume. Rhubarb, sandalwood, and gardenia flooded his senses. The scent that was so uniquely you. Like a warm spring morning after a storm, wandering through a farmers market in your rainboots. 

You let yourself take a moment and appreciate the sight in front of you. It was rare to see him so relaxed, even around you. Drowsiness radiating off of him, his shirt wrinkled from sleeping, slouching in order to be closer to you. Even though you couldnt see his face, you could feel him smile against your blouse.  “I’ll call out then.” you murmured, rubbing his back 

“it’ll give me a break from having to deal with interns”  you rolled your neck in a circle as an attempt to stretch out the crick in your neck from using Aaron’s arm as a pillow. You weren’t much of a cuddler before you had met aaron, preferring your space when you slept and claiming you just got too hot at night. But after the first night sharing a bed with Aaron you were hooked. He held you as if someone would steal you from him. When you would move away, he would find a way to always be touching you, even if it was just his hand on your back. 

“Good. They can find someone else.” He said, finally sitting up and pressing a kiss to your temple before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. You go to the closet and trade your blouse for one of aarons FBI t-shirts and your slacks for shorts.

You looked back at the bathroom to see Aaron trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt. You shook your head with a smile and walked down to the kitchen to start making breakfast for everyone. You heard heavy footsteps down your creaky stairs, not bothering to turn around to see who it was. The routine happens the same almost every day, with the exception of you being coerced into taking a sick day. After you preheated the oven, you poured a cup of black coffee into a cat-shaped mug and put a spoonful of honey in, leaving it on the edge of the counter for Aaron. He took the cup and replaced it with your phone and speaker, still playing the same classical music playlist you always had on. 

“You didn’t have to wake up, you’re no good in the kitchen” you hummed, reaching into the fridge to pull out a carton of eggs. 

“That may be true but if I didn’t wake up, I wouldn’t be able to watch you cook.” he said, leaning against the counter as he carefully took a sip of his coffee as to not burn his mouth.

“You’d think with how often you watch me, you’d learn a thing or two” you teased, cracking all the eggs into a bowl and handing it to Aaron to scramble.

“So snarky first thing in the morning.” he feigned offense as he grabbed a fork out of the cutlery drawer. You looked over at him with a grin, shaking your head “You wouldn’t be with me if I was agreeable.” you stated matter of factly, reaching around him to change the song. 

“That’s…true.” he chuckled, putting the bowl on the counter to watch you cut up some mushrooms and tomatoes. You put all the ingredients into a baking dish and stuck it in the oven before turning to face him. 

He put down his coffee and held out his hand. You took it as he pulled you into his chest, intertwining his fingers with yours and placing his open hand on your waist. You placed yours on his shoulder as he began to sway with you. He let go of your waist briefly to spin you with a downturned smile, leading you back to him to place a kiss on your forehead. 

Penelope got up out of Jack’s racecar bed and walked down into the hallway towards the kitchen, smelling the fresh coffee. She looked in the kitchen before halting her steps and going into the guest room. She shook Emily and JJ awake “you two get up right now and come see whats going on in the kitchen” 

“Garcia, is it really worth missing a little more sleep?” Emily groaned as JJ silently got up and stretched 

“Just get up, shes not gonna let you sleep any longer” JJ said before motioning for Penelope to lead the way. The two women followed her to the entryway of the kitchen, pointing at the two of you dancing.

The oven beeped and you went to let go of him in order to pull the frittata out of the oven. Before you could, he tightened his grip on you “C’mon, Ronnie. It’s gonna burn and I dont want to go out to get more food” You groaned 

“One more song, Pumpkin” he insisted, dipping you so you could not reach the stove. You squealed and swung your head back, letting you see what was behind you.

“Good morning ladies,” you said as Aaron put you back on your feet and went to grab the oven mitts silently. You covered your mouth to hide your laughter and mouthed “He is just embarrassed” silently to the girls. 

"Didn't know you were such a romantic, boss man" Emily snickered as you handed her a cup of coffee and went to set out cream and sugar for everyone

"I'm not" He grumbled, picking back up his coffee after he set the pan on the cooling rack.

"When you try to reprimand, your subordinates maybe don't be holding a cat mug, Hotch" JJ chimed

Once everyone was up and around the dining room table, you had gotten into a debate with Spencer about Pavlov's Dogs.

“I don't know how ethical that is…” Spencer muttered, you waved your hand in dismissal “No no. It’s for his own good. Every time he walks past me I give him a kiss and a sip of water. That way every time he walks past me he will get thirsty and want a drink of water. I'm forcefully hydrating him!” 

“You are evil, you know that right?” 

“I am fully aware. I already did this to my subordinates to get them to turn their spreadsheets in on time.” you grinned, grabbing Aaron's arm as he walked past you to get to the living room. You pulled him down and gave him a kiss on the cheek before holding up your water bottle “Water, honey?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

He smiled and leaned over, taking a sip “Thank you, love.” he kissed your hand that clung to his wrist before slipping away and going to talk to Rossi.

“Wow.” Spencer chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “Honestly I am more shocked that he has not catched on”

You smiled and shrugged “Honestly? He probably has.”

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fic #hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch fanfiction

[the-dungeonmaster]

Max Mayfield Rant | Warning: Major spoilers for season 2 to 4, watch out for that 💋

Can we please, PLEASE talk about the things Max has gone through for a second? She has lived with an abusive brother and father for what, 5 years? And it must’ve been pretty hard for her to adapt to this new lifestyle, her brother pushes her around and screams at her, taking out all his anger at her because he’s angry about his mother’s departure. And yet, she still cares. It is said that she’d bring Billy ice after her step-father would beat him up, she truly loved Billy as a brother-figure and it god, it’s honestly upsetting to see the way he treats her.

(Though Billy is for an entirely new rant, he’s another topic.)

Fast forward a few years, they moved from California to Indiana. She immediately catches the attention of the party and gets followed around. So she’s obviously creeped out by this and tells all of them to stop via her note (“Stop following me, stalkers.”)

Mike is annoyed by Max’s arrival and doesn’t stop commenting about how much she ruins everything. Mike is being completely entitled this entire season and thinks that Max is trying to replace El when she’s clearly just trying to make new friends after everything. And Mike doesn’t understand that, he is angry and upset because he thinks everyone has moved on from El (he thinks this, despite only knowing El for a week. Homeboy’s down so bad 😹)

Max is so irritated by this and won’t keep asking why Mike hates her so much. Along with Mike’s treatment, she also gets physically injured by El, making Max slip off her skateboard in a jealous rage (which was honestly a bitchy thing to do, what the hell?)

Anyways, now focusing on the good side, she’s made friends with Lucas and fully believes him with the entire UD thing. But before that, Billy gets angry. Again. He broke one of Max’s truly prized possession and leaves her to fix it. (Note that their parents are away on a date night during these few events.) This

upsets her and it just makes it even sadder to realize how horrible the environment Max lives in.

Ok, now lets go ahead and skip to the near end of the season, this is the part where Max finally stands up for herself :). Billy is looking for Max and plans on putting her back into her place, and Max is having NONE OF THIS. So, as her girlboss self, she drugs Billy with a tranquilizer and decides that she isn’t going to let him push her around any longer. And I’m just SO PROUD OF HER FOR THAT. ARGGHH!!!!

During the last episode of season 2, Max lets her mother braid her hair. Perhaps thats a small sign of her step closer to becoming more comfortable with letting herself loose, and trying to find herself. Since living with two men almost her entire life, she’s associated masculinity with strength, and that’s why her interests seems “boy-ish” at first. (I say it like that because this is the 80s. People expect girls to be girly and be interested in make-up and all that.)

| *Season 4* |

This season has shown that Max and Lucas have drifted apart and have broken up. And god, you can see that Lucas is so, so desperate to get their past relationship back because it was obvious that they were close and sort of (immediately,) clicked. Max has always been cold, you see. But Lucas helped with that, kinda. Lucas helped Max become more social but starting high-school and after Billy’s death, she’s grown distant.

Max is suffering from Survivor’s guilt and is wallowing because she’d been feeling guilty about Billy’s death, having nightmares, and PLUS her mom is drinking! Her mother is also distancing herself from Max instead of trying to help her through their loss.

So, Max is stuck taking care of her the house during the nights her mother is passed out.

Due to Max’s guilt of surviving and trauma, she becomes and easy target for Vecna, making her vulnerable. She knowns that she may only have a day to live left so she writes letters for each of them. Can you imagine? Max Mayfield doing something so sappy? But this is important. She could die.

During this time, Lucas doesn’t leave her side and always makes sure she isn’t alone because he’s also scared that he may lose the girl he loves all over again.

Now, let us fast-forward to the graveyard scene, jesus christ my hands are cramping up. Max is reading her letter for Billy, which further explains her feelings towards him and her pent up emotions she buried deep down.

While doing this, Vecna becomes a little shit and decides to make the move on her while she’s still mourning the loss of her dead step-brother.

Max Mayfield does the unthinkable.

While in Vecna’s trance, Max is in the Upside Down, fighting for her life. She’s so, SO BRAVE and when she sees an exit, she runs for it. She doesn’t care that she’s against a fucking PSYCHIC RIGHT NOW. Max sees the opportunity to keep on living and stay where she is safe and happy. And she doesn’t let it go. She grabs onto it and manages to escape Vecna’s trance.

Right after that, she immediately falls into Lucas’ arms, who holds her and it seems like he isn’t ever going to let go.

GOD, I LOVE MAX MAYFIELD SO MUCH!!! AND HER RELATIONSHIP WITH LUCAS IS EVEN BETTER BECAUSE THEY ARE SO RIGHT AND DESERVE TO BE HAPPY. We support Lumax in this household <3

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #lumax #what did the lumaxers ever do to deserve this 💔 #q rants because shes bored and this needs to be heard #LMAOO #eleven stranger things #mike wheeler #billy hargrove

[discoerot1ca]

there are three ways to chart this narrative. I am living in all of them.

just try to appreciate

what you’ve got while you’ve got it

so if it ever goes away

you can say you enjoyed it while it lasted

1.

I’ve decided to be comfortable irritating you. it’s already over, in my mind. I can relax now. I can say whatever dumb shit pops into my head and send you every single post I think you’d like and ask you to hang out as often as I want. let me give you this thing I made for you. can I take a picture of you? can I take another one? I’m going to hold both your hands. the story is over! we’re just waiting on the epilogue now. in the meantime, come over and drink wine with me tonight. I’m not worrying over how much you’ll enjoy my company.

I’m going to love so much and so hard, I’ll get my heart broken by the end of the summer. this thing does go away, and I don’t want the story I tell later to be one of holding back.

dance with me, lovely. oh my goodness, it is so wonderful to laugh with you.

I had my heart broken in 2017 and again in 2019. I was too hesitant for it in 2021, but I look around and all of a sudden it is 2023! and I look around and you are next to me, and I love you so dearly I took the sun out of my eyes to see you for real.

I am laughing- and believe me, I know the bittersweet that comes after the sugar rush. the creature in me is growling softly, so tired of trying to make it easier to be with me, trying to be easier, trying not to love so hard, so wholly, so envelopingly, trying to be less boring, less anxious, less clingy, trying to be less be less be less, tired of how the only way I know how to convince people to love me is to be less, tired of being sorry it never works.

you look so cute in those black and white polka dots. I tell you. you’re sending a picture of me to your friends, telling them how hot I look in my box-dye hair and my five dollar sunglasses. for now? for now. I can be happy in the for now.

and you don’t need me to tell it to you, that friendship breakups hurt the most. you say any one of the people you’ve loved, even the awful ones, could turn up on your doorstep now, and you would still offer them the couch. you say you always love full-throttle. I shift into sixth gear and say race me as reckless driver by lizzy mcalpine is blasting.

- I love you. I am through with trying to make it as forgivable an offense as I can.

I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love,

you won’t be able to see beyond it.

2.

sometimes I feel that I am restarting my younger years, writing a better life over the one I had. I split my trinkets with my friends 50-50. the two most important things in the world to know about zir, their favorite ice cream flavor alongside their parking spot preference. dying red into their hair and for a moment it could be sticky fingers and koolaid colors. I cut out hundreds of pictures to color my walls. I hang the string lights up, and I am so in love with myself it’s hard to imagine I’ve ever been alone. we snap photo after photo after photo like it’s muscle memory from a disposable camera at eight years old. I give myself the abundance to push back against an old scarcity. I hold both your hands! why shouldn’t I?

in our barbie movie marathon, we will only have pink drinks- strawberry gin, rosé, pink lemonade mixers. a friendship bracelet for valentine’s day, a frog for springtime, a felt bird in summer. let me sit with my hands in the dirt and make something for you. let me see if I can find it, push past the pillbugs and the millipedes and the worms, graze over the rocks and potatoes- yes! I pull it out for you.

needle in my hands, thread pulling through, and it comes again, this sense of deja vu I’m so prone to. perhaps in a dream, perhaps in another life, but I know I have done this before. and it’s nice- whenever I catch myself in a moment like that, it feels like an affirmation that I have been making the right choices, that this is the point I was predestined to arrive to. we are in the right timeline, because I am sitting here making art for someone I love.

- I’m worried, because what if you see how much I love you? I’m excited, because: isn’t that the point?

that’s the kind of heartbreak

time could never mend

3.

summer is only my third favorite season. I don’t think any of my selves would be upset by my saying it is the best of me, the one that comes alive in the first half of summer. she is brilliant, filled with laughter and confidence and a love untinged by anxiety. oh, I can’t help but love her, raining flowers and flashes of green. she loves herself better, and she loves him a little better, for coming to us in the cold months when the fear leeches out from me like a sickness and choosing to love anyway, for staying long enough to see the gold catch in our eyes in june.

no, they are not an answer to this thing within me. I sit with myself in this home, and I love both him and me enough. I love us all to the point of invention.

my sister has fallen in love for the first time. she is afraid of her first heartbreak. she can’t fathom how taylor could love joe for six years and not end up with him. I think of how I used to love in forevers. I fell in love with potential. I spent so much time in the future of various relationships, it became a detriment to their present. now, I romanticize the ephemeral as much as I can. I am here for the little stories of the morning, this afternoon, the brilliant night we are sharing together. I do not project into next year. I sit with you in the same room and I exist with you at the same time. it fills my whole heart up.

summer was the worst of me, for a long time. too many beginnings and endings and old friends’ birthdays. all the shattered things are stitched together now into this personhood. it is strong. I am not afraid of them breaking it. I have had the piercing ruptures, the departures that rended flesh from bone and hollowed my cheeks and left me gushing blood and hope for months. he will not cause that. whatever damage may come, time will be enough for. I will be enough for.

- and in this way I manage the eventual death of us. it is the death of us. it will not be the death of me.

xoxo

#one for the money two for the show #love letters

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny Pt 2

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny (Pt 2). The morning after and basically wayyyy to long so the smut is gonna have to be in pt 3. (word count: a little over 2k)

pt 1 here

TW: Yandere themes, day after dub con, reader is held against their will

You were sore. Your hips, wrists, back, pussy, everything ached. A silky sheet was the only thing covering your bare form. You could feel that you were alone in bed, Toshi's bulkiness was no longer weighing down the mattress. It must be mid morning because light was streaming through the curtains. Maybe if you remained still you could absorb into the mattress. Not only because of your tender body, but because you would prefer to never see your boss again. But speak of the devil. "Are we staying in bed all day?" You groaned. Hating how he worded his question. We. It was condescending, patronizing, and somehow filled you with butterflies. Something was placed on the bed, definitely not heavy enough to be Toshi. And then you realized, not something but a tiny someone. Baby Izuku crawled over to you, babbling, and tapped your sore shoulder. "Morning, Zuzu," You mumbled. Your joints crackled to life and you tightened the covers so you could face the little one. Behind him the clock read 11:00 am. "I need to get dressed." The villain cocked his head, "I tossed your clothes in the laundry do you want me to go get something from your closet?" No, you didn't want him running through your belongings. He would probably make a mess. "Just give me one of your shirts." That provided you enough modesty to get to your room and you were surprised the menace didn't follow. You scrubbed your body raw under the shower, subconsciously punishing yourself for taking pleasure from the night before. You were frustrated. Clean and covered in giant sweat pants and a hoodie you stormed into the living room where Toshi sat watching izuku entertain himself. "I quit." There was a pause. You tried not to look at the child. He would sway your resolve. This didn't have anything to do with him, it was between you and his father. "Alright." Oh. He wasn't going to challenge you? Figures, the man got what he wanted from you. You turned on your heels and rushed back to your room. You didn't own much so it wasn't hard to shove your belongings back into the suitcase. Opening your bedside drawer you froze. Your keys and phone were missing. This was their spot. The dedicated key-and-phone drawer. You check the room once, twice, then Izuku's room, the playroom, the kitchen. "Where are my keys?" You hissed, to hell with the phone you could buy a replacement. "Why would you need those," His voice was taunting. You felt your fists ball up and your nails dug into your palms. You stomped your foot like a frustrated child. "Because I'm leaving, I quit, now give me my keys." "I agreed you can quit, if that's what makes you feel better. I didn't say anything about leaving." The tension could be cut with a knife. He wasn't speaking or moving, he was eerily looming. In the other room Izuku was getting fussy. It knotted your stomach not going to check on him, but you kept your eyes on the villain. Toshinori was the first one to move, he went to check on his son. Clearly you weren't a threat. You could do without the keys, even sacrifice your suitcase. You made it all the way to the front door where you expected him to be, but he wasn't. He was with Izuku. With a twist at the knob the door didn't budge. You tried once more before angrily shaking the door. All Might called for you, "I told you that you aren't leaving. It's a two way security system but feel free to keep trying." When did he install this? You didn't see anything obvious like a box or camera indicating a security system. You could've thrown a fit or tried to break open the window but you had a feeling you wouldn't make it far. "What are you getting at?" You asked, rejoining the father-son duo. "Nothing aside from what we discussed last night in bed," he was making your cheeks burn red. "Making sure we stay a happy family." By the tone of his voice you knew there was no room for discussion. He didn't chastise you for slamming the door your room. He didn't pester you through out the day. He didn't even open your door to tell you he made dinner. He came by later to tell you (through the door) that he left you a plate in case you get hungry. By midnight you were. You tip toed down the hall, peeking into to the nursery to see Izuku fast asleep. You scarfed down the food before crawling back to bed. --- The next day you shuffled out of bed and into Izuku's room where you picked up the quiet but awake baby. You were gentle as you combed through his green curls with your fingers. He was still warm the way babies gets when they sleep. Holding him soothed you. Toshi melted when he saw you two curled up on the couch. He didn't want to ruin the mood so he stayed out of your line of sight for a few more minutes. Finally he entered the threshold of the room, "I'm heading out for the day but I won't be out late." You could've ignored him, but Izuku's grubbing hands were grabbing for his daddy. You had been defeated by the toddler. You weren't a monster. You moved toward your now ex-employer so he could tell his son goodbye. Goodbye before he goes off to commit atrocities. Toshi kissed the child’s chubby cheeks without removing him from your arms. He was too close for comfort. You took an awkward half step back before his huge hand caught your hair. With a tug, your chin jutted forward and he pressed his lips to yours. "Zuku, keep an eye on mommy," Chuckling as he stepped out the front door. Your mind was fuzzy for a moment before looked down at the boy on your hip who was giggling and clapping his hands together. --- The jovial villain was focused at work. He was on edge, quiet and irritable. Eager to return home and help you with his son. All Might wasn't delusional — well at least not entirely. He anticipated that this would be a rough time for you, but you were a good girl, you would adjust.

When he placed that ad to scout for someone to watch Izuku he didn't plan for this. But you were so perfect. He ached for you in a way he never hurt before. Had you been anyone else he would've killed you when you found out his villainous ways. But no, he could never bring himself to harm you. God, you even took the news in stride. Yeah, you weren't thrilled and may have walked out of their lives if he hadn't stopped you; but you weren't trashing his house or treating Izuku any differently.

And you were so pretty underneath him, whimpering while you took his length, your nails digging into the man's shoulders when he released into you. You slept like a rock afterwards, rolling unconsciously into him. Your body sought his comfort, knowing you were safe with him. He just needed to give you time to adjust.

--- It didn't take long for you to stop leaving the room any time he entered. And soon you were back to your normal routine of caring for the child and keeping up with the house. You resumed playing around with Izuku and began reading a ton of books to the boy. You told Toshi that Izuku could even pick which books he wanted you to read. It was nice that you were talking to him again, sometimes making jabs at his life choices and always kept a distance between yourself and him. Izuku was becoming quite the talker, well the babbler because he hasn't said his first word yet. He was figuring it out though. He knew he could say 'Ap-ap' for apple or to get picked up. You were sure he would say his first word any day. --- The three of you were in the living room when it happened. Izuku was watching some baby show, the first "lesson" was colors and the little one did his best to make nonsensical noises. The next subject was family members. Siblings, sister, brother. Parents. Mom, mommy, mama. Dad, daddy, papa. Grandma, grandpa. Aunt, auntie. Uncle. Over and over again until the show was done. Toshi looked at the izuku who was wearing the face of a thinker. He looked at his dad, the little one was trying to get something of importance out. You both cheered for him once he finally got out the word "papa." It was cute to see the man beam with pride, even though he was a villain. The butterflies were breaking out of their cocoons again. --- Toshi didn't get much alone time with his son and he liked it that way. That meant you were with them. But when he did get time with son he worked on teaching the boy that you were the mommy. Mama. And Izuku would try to repeat but hadn’t quite got it. --- You were struggling to maintain your composure in between watching the news and cooking dinner. All Might was robbing a bank. There were hostages. You recognized the location immediately as a bank you passed almost daily before working for Toshinori. Did you know anyone inside? A small part of you worried for the man, probably because you were thinking of him as Izuku's father rather than a villain. You shut the TV off when you heard Izuku start to wake from his nap.

That night you couldn't help but notice a slice on his arm; it was superficial, not even bleeding but enough to draw out the question: Why do you do it? It's easy, he shrugged. All Might never initiated an attack unprovoked nor directed his actions towards helpless civilians. He stole, dabbled in the black market, and made sure everyone knew not to mess with him or anyone in his circle.

You just couldn't understand. When Zuku gets older he will ask questions. All little boys idolize their dads. What if someone tried to hurt the boy? 

The two of you were whisper yelling with each other. You more so than Toshi but he was still running low on patience; it had been a long day, after all. Izuku was picking up on the changing atmosphere, watching you both through furrowed brows, the quiver in his lip worsening. You stopped when you heard the whimpering begin. He was a sensitive child. Maybe you just needed to sleep. Toshi picked up the baby, bouncing Zuku in the way that always prevented tantrums and wails. He kept babbling and you could tell he was doing his best not to cry. You started to head towards your room when a cry broke out for 'mama.' This time it wasn't Toshi “putting you in your place”. This time it was Izuku.

"It's okay, Zuzu," Toshi soothed. "Mommy just needs a minute."

The crushing realization of just how trapped you were knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't leave the house. Toshi was always being too kind and patient. Somehow he managed to teach Izuku that you were his mommy. The most infamous villain had ensnared you and no matter what he wasn’t letting go. You would never be able to convince him to leave you alone and you'd never be able to leave Izuku.

You were tired of stubbornly holding out. Pathetic tears cascaded down your face, gentle and oddly relieving. Izuku practically leapt into your arms. The tot clung to you and his crying calmed down. you turned away, not able to look at the man.

"Are you going to think the worst of me forever?" Toshinori whispered. Maybe? Probably not. It was hard to tell. You didn't want to.

He continued, "I'm a good father, I would never let anyone hurt Izuku. Or you. Sure I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities but there are some."

You were tired of being stuck inside. It wasn't good for Izuku either. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't so sure you would abandon them even if given the chance. You were tired of trying to hate the man behind you. Tired of pretending you didn't fantasize about that night when you were alone in bed. Toshi moved right behind you and you relaxed against his huge chest. He was surprised and hesitant to move in case he frightened you to your senses. He couldn't just stand there though, that would be weird. Two thick arms wrapped around waist. "Tomorrow I wanna take Izuku to the park," You whispered. Toshi was equally defeated.

"Okay."

---

After putting Izuku to bed you made your way down the hall. The shower in Toshinori's bathroom was running. That was fine. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. If this was going to work without you feeling like a hostage he was going to have to be open to loosing the reigns. 

He was surprised to see you in his room when he exited the bathroom in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants. 

"More fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow. 

You shook your head, "I hate All Might, just as much as I hate every other villain. But when you come home I don't see All Might, I just see Toshinori, Izuku's dad. That's the man I care about and no matter how much I fight it I can't stop caring."

It was hard to keep eye contact with him but you continued, "I want to be with you and Izuku, not with All Might. And I want to be here on my own accord. I want to be able to go out with Izuku and with you. Can't we just try that?" 

You didn't come in here to berate him again? Or to demand to leave? His heart softened as he realized that the person he wanted, wanted him back. You were willing to remain in their lives. 

"I can try that." 

Toshi trained his eyes on your body, fighting every instinct to close the space between. But you moved first, gingerly placing your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you straddled his lap.

"Can I sleep in here tonight? I want you to hold me," You whispered.

He nodded and rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. "Is that all you want from me tonight?"

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

[sidemari]

A, C and Y for Gorou nsfw alphabeth. Please, thank you and congrats

NSFW Headcanons

Pairings: Gorou and Kazuha x GN!Reader

Warnings: The title says it all. Don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with sexual content or with this specific theme. NSFW under the cut.

A/N: I decided to make lots of requests in this one so people can find my works easily, I hope you don't mind. The letters you asked are here and many more, if you want to read them. The art is not mine, it is from akali_yue on Twitter!

Gorou 🐾

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Gorou is really sweet with you after you guys have sex.

He'll always make sure to clean you up from any mess by offering to help you showering or even using a warm towel on your body.

He's calm with you and he makes sure you're feeling comfortable, often bringing you water, snacks and blankets so you both can cuddle a little.

Usually you get worn out after being intimate with him, so when he comes back to the bedroom, most of times he'll find you asleep. Gorou covers your naked body and cuddle you against his body while he caresses the side of your thigh.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Gorou's preference is coming inside you, since it makes him feel more connected to you and the mess is a little smaller. If he don't cum inside your walls, he'll reach his high inside your mouth since your boyfriend thinks it's hot seeing you swallow his seed and show him your clean tongue afterwards.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Gorou is a pretty hardworking and busy person, still he tries his best to have some intimate time with you.

His sex drive is about average, perhaps 2 to 3 weeks a week.

But whenever you have some free days from your duties, this number will grow with ease.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's very caring towards you while having sex with you, always asking if you're feeling well, if you want to change positions, if you want him to go harder or faster...

Overall, Gorou's the one in control and sometimes he'll test your limits, but only until you're still comfortable.

If you're dominating him, he'll be way more delicate and will become a whiny boy due your stimulation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Gorou isn't much of a tease, actually. His only goal is your pleasure and he'll do his best to make you feel satisfied, not wanting to interrupt your journey.

But if he's feeling a little irritated or frustrated or even if you provoked him all day long with your soft touches and dirty words, he'll tease you until you're pathetically pleading for release.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Gorou loves the Lotus position, where you sit on his lap while he's doing kind of a meditation pose. Even with you being on top, he's the one in control, often changing the pace and depth of your movements.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes them. Gorou often doesn't have much of the time he would like to spend with you due his job, so, if you ever appear in one of the resistance camps only to see him, he won't hesitate about sneaking out with you and fuck you really quickly while trying to control your moans and not get caught by anyone.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually you both go for one round only and it's totally worth it.

But Gorou is the general of the Sangonomiya Resistance. He spent many days training endlessly to get stronger so of course he has the stamina to go for another rounds.

You could keep up with him until the fourth one because you got way too tired. Your boyfriend still had energy but he respected your limits, as always.

He always make sure to last more than you so you can enjoy yourself, so his time to reach his orgasm is pretty much based on yours.

Kazuha 🍁

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kazuha is a sweetheart with you after you guys have sex. Well, he's a caring boyfriend overall, but he'll treat you like the most fragile thing in Teyvat after it.

He'll pull your body close to cuddle you against his chest, as he whispers reassuring words into your ears and caresses your hair with love.

He loves pillowtalk! He'll get specifically more thoughtful after being intimate with you and will tell you some stories until you're fast asleep.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kazuha often walks on you sleeping, only to explore your body while you're resting.

Of course he would ask you for consent while you're still awake before doing that, so don't worry about it.

His hands would hoover all over your body, teasing your sweet spots and gaining soft gasps from your lips until he's satisfied with that teasing.

Some of the times you'd wake up only to beg for him to make you cum with his stimulation.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kazuha doesn't really masturbate often. He knows if he's feeling excited, he can always seek you to satisfy his needs.

But if you're away in a mission, or if he can't really visit you by any reason, he won't think twice before starting fantasizing about how would your tight walls feel around him, how soft your skin would feel against his, how hot your moans would sound and how sweet your kisses would be...

He could keep going with his thoughts, but only imagining you like that always had him cumming in a few minutes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Kazuha adores when you're the one riding him.

He is just so obedient to you, always following any of your words blindly, only because you're all that matters to him.

His hands would help you move against his lap by holding your waist tightly as you whimper above him and try your best to not cum just yet.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't provoke any pain on you even if you asked him to do so.

He's way too worried about hurting you to try anything of that matter. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kazuha prefers going down on you since he feels better if you're the one feeling pleasure. He's not really experienced since you're his first lover, but with time he'll learn really well the way you prefer receiving oral and he'll be extremely serious about his job pleasuring you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Your boyfriend enjoys them, but he likes having proper sex better.

Almost all the quickies you guys had were in the beginning of the day as a way to spend more time with each other before going to take care of your duties.

And most of those quickies would turn into proper sex at night when you both reencounter once again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually you both go for 2 or 3 rounds at max. Not really going much farther than that.

You both know each other's desires and body so well that sometimes only one round is enough to relax and satiate you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kazuha is a sucker for you being rough with him. He sometimes ask you to push his limits just because he feels so safe and good with you he can't help but being your little obedient boy.

"(Name), please, fuck me harder"

#gorou #gorou x reader #kazuha #kazuha x reader #gorou smut #kazuha smut #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction

[untaemedqueen]

The Deal

Drug Lord!Yoongi x Coffee Shop Owner!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 2.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Mentions of Drugs and Drug Deals, Blood, Smut, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings for This Chapter:  Mentions of Drugs

A/N: As always @xjoonchildx was my rock supporting me through this whole adventure!

The noise of your phone wakes you up before your alarm this morning.

It's been days since your first meeting with Yoongi.

You've tried your absolute hardest not to think about him but everything reminds you of the scarred drug lord, no matter where you turn.

The closest table to the register in the coffee shop, red wine, cigarettes, tattoos, even your fucking brother -- they all remind you of him.

It's actually insane.

You don't actually know why Yoongi is on your mind so much, in all reality -- you can't stand him. Even though you know that this is all Jeongguk's fault.

Huffing out, you grab your phone off of the bedside table.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Morning sweetheart, excited to work with me?

It's too early for this, you haven't even had your coffee yet. Sitting up in bed with bleary eyes, you grimace at your phone.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Are you ignoring me or are you just a lazy bones who won't wake up for work?

Sneering at the phone, you flip your middle finger at the screen.

"Noona?"

Why is everyone on your ass so early today? Jesus.

"Yeah, Gukkie?" you call back, yawning loudly.

He peeks his head into the room, hair soaked from a recent shower. "Yoongi is blowing up my phone. Please text him back."

"It's five o'clock in the fucking morning! Goddamn! Give a minute!" you whine, throwing the blanket over your head.

He chuckles loudly, the noise irritating you to no end. 

"Jeongguk, I don't know why the hell you're laughing. You're starting work at the coffee shop today!" you gripe, peeling the blanket off your head.

His jaw drops, eyes widening. 

"What? Are you joking? You're joking," he whispers.

Sucking a sharp breath between your teeth, you narrow your eyes at him. "Do I fucking look like I'm joking?! You got me into this mess, you have no job and when I'm not able to go to work you're going to be there."

He opens his mouth to refuse but you make a loud indiscernible noise to shut him up. "Do I make myself clear, little brother?"

Grumbling, he nods. 

"You're right. I'm sorry, noona. I'll get ready," he mumbles, trudging out of the doorway.

Picking your phone up once more, you throw yourself back to your pillow.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Do I need to take a journey over to your apartment to make sure you haven't run away from our deal?

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

If you don't reply… I'm coming over sweetheart.

Your eyes widen and your fingers fly over the keyboard at the drop of a hat.

To: Novelty Purveyor 😒

NO! I'm alive! I was just talking to Guk and I have to get ready for work!

Your fingernails scratch at the comforter nervously. The word delivered stares at you in the face and you scoff. Does he not even have the audacity to respond after he's just blown up your phone like the fourth of July?

To: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Hello? You woke ME up at five o'clock in the morning and now I can't get a text back?

Getting out of bed, you roll your eyes. Fine. If he doesn't want to respond he doesn't have to.

It's almost embarrassing how shifty your eyes are as you get ready for work. You keep glancing over to your phone as it sits heavily atop your made bed. You can see it at every angle you look. And no, it's not because you're waiting for his text.

...You just don't want to miss it in case he suddenly says he feels the need to come over.

"Noona! I'm ready for work!" Jeongguk calls from the living room.

"Wow, he hasn't answered in a long time," you blurt out, staring at your phone through the mirror.

"What?" Guk asks from the doorway of your bedroom.

"What?!" you yelp, turning to him and widening your eyes.

"Who hasn't answered in a long time?" he quips, tilting his head and leaning it against your door.

"J-Jimmy," you stammer, eyes fluttering shut.

"Who the fuck is Jimmy? I'll kick his ass. My big sister isn't going out with someone named Jimmy," Jeongguk scoffs, running his hands through his long hair.

Your phone lights up and you take a deep breath through your nose. Your heart starts to beat voraciously fast and you eye your little brother as he looks at your phone.

"That him?" he asks through gritted teeth, stepping into your bedroom.

You give a fake laugh, side stepping towards your bed. "What? No, don't be ridiculous. It's probably Hanna."

He hums unsurely, reaching for your phone.

You jump quickly, feeling as if you're in slow motion with your hands outstretched. This is fucking embarrassing.

When you grab your phone, Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.

"What're you sexting at five o'clock in the morning? You weirdo."

"No!" you wheeze, pressing your phone to your chest.

"Whatever," he mutters.

Peeking down at your phone, you sigh loudly at Yoongi's reply.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

It's not nice when people keep you waiting sweetheart, is it?

Rolling your eyes, you shoo your brother out of the room.

"Fine, fine. Jesus." Guk whispers, stepping out into the hallway.

To: Novelty Purveyor 😒

You make it sound as if I was waiting for you to text me back.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

You weren't waiting? I'm truly hurt.

To: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Yeah. I'm so sure you are. What do you want?

Why were you waiting for his texts again? He's so fucking irritating, like sandpaper on a chalkboard irritating.

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Well, why don't you come downstairs and find out.

To: Novelty Purveyor 😒

Don't fucking say you're in front of my house…

From: Novelty Purveyor 😒

I'm not in front of your house… I'm down the block………. NOW I'm in front of your house.

"Jesus fucking Christ. I can never catch a break," you mumble.

"Tell Jimmy I'm gonna fuck him up!" Jeongguk calls to you as you grab your purse.

"Tell him yourself," you gripe, opening the front door and ushering him out.

Stepping outside your apartment building, you can't help but sigh as the windows to the only Aston Martin on the block begin to roll down.

"Why didn't you tell me Yoongi hyung was here?!" Jeongguk hisses into your ear, fixing his hair into a bun.

"Oh. I don't know, maybe because he just decides to fucking show up out of the blue like a goddamn fairy godmother!" you retort, folding your arms.

As the window lowers, you take Min Yoongi into your sights. Wearing a blood red suit and a black tie, he raises an eyebrow at the both of you.

"Well, finally someone wants to go to work," he quips, scratching at his scar.

When he steps out of the car, you notice how dominating he looks.

"Want a ride to work, sweetheart?" he asks, the corners of his lips flickering upward as he waves his arm towards the car.

"No!" you retort, already taking off towards the coffee shop.

"Guk, get your ass in the car," Yoongi orders and you watch your brother spring into action.

You mutter to yourself, shoes slapping angrily to the pavement underfoot.

He's such a prick.

Why did he even show up here? What the fuck?

These past couple of days without seeing him have been so pleasant. You haven't had to be worried about him at all. Maybe he's like one of those horror stories where the killer shows up just when the main character is starting to be lulled into a false sense of security.

You can smell his cologne first, the scent completely enrapturing you and making your mind go blank.

"Morning, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, pocketing his hands in his suit pants.

You swat at the side of your face, folding your arms tighter. 

"Why are you here?" you gripe, trying to walk faster.

It's not difficult for him to catch up to you, his strides are cool and confident.

"When you didn't text me back I got worried, who knows what could have happened to you," he quips, smirking at your frowning face.

"You are literally the most dangerous person I've ever met in my life. Why would something happen to me?" you retort.

"I'm dangerous?" he asks, seemingly confused.

Scoffing, you stop in your tracks. The rising sun peeks through a canopy of trees behind you, highlighting his handsome features and setting a shadow to his skin around his gnarled scar. You eye his undercut, trying to make out every single dragon that dances around his scalp.

"What do you mean you're dangerous?! You're acting like you're confused! Are you aware of what you sell? What you do to people?" you gawk, tilting your head in complete befuddlement.

He shrugs coolly. "Well sure but that doesn't make me dangerous, sweetheart."

You laugh loudly, patting his arm. "Right. Good one, Min."

You take off again, catching the slow moving Aston Martin out of the corner of your eye.

"I have rules about what I sell. I don't just sell to anyone y'know," he grinds out, following behind you.

"I really don't care. It's almost six o'clock in the morning and I haven't had any coffee yet. I have a busy day. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine and you can fuck off back to your drug den now," you say.

"Why is your day so busy?" he asks curiously.

"I have to open up the coffee shop, train my brother how to use every machine. I have papers that need to be filed… I have a busy day."

"You also need to come home with me tonight, start your training, meet my crew. You're right, you do have a lot to do," he rambles, counting on his fingers.

You stop once more. You have a headache now. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused. Come on, sweetheart," he chuckles, pulling you towards your shop.

"I should have just killed Guk myself," you grumble, fighting against the drug lord as he pulls you down the street.

There's always been a sort of mysticality to entering the coffee shop at dawn. You could smell faint notes of yesterday's coffee and breakfast items, you could watch the sun catch on the mirrors sending beams of rainbow colors bouncing around the black and white cafe. It's usually storybook worthy. Most of the time. Just not today.

Stepping into the coffee shop today with a drug lord, your idiot brother and his hot idiot friend Taehyung -- it seems more like a Brothers Grimm tale.

"Morning Y/N! I hope you-" Hanna cuts herself off spotting the three men as they stand in the middle of the floor.

You don't even have words to explain what's happening. You simply scoff, entering the back office to throw down your belongings.

When you catch sight of the picture of you and Guk when you were younger on your desk, you slam it face down.

"I'm Yoongi and this is Taehyung," you hear faintly. He sounds so personable, so absolutely kind and it makes you shiver.

Where does he get off acting like he has the whole world in the palm of his hand?

Tying your hair up, you take a deep calming breath.

"You also need to come home with me tonight, start your training, meet my crew. You're right, you do have a lot to do." 

It echoes throughout your head, brushing all other thoughts out of your mind.

After many bottles of wine and reassurance from Jeongguk, you can ascertain that you probably won't be in any danger with Yoongi. So you aren't scared, you're more so annoyed than anything else.

He texts you. Makes you wait with bated breaths for response (let's be honest, you were hanging by a thread.) He has the audacity to show up at your apartment, which isn't the first time this has happened. And now he's going to just watch you make coffee until he can take you back to his house?!

Where the fuck does he get the gall?

Your attention turns to the shop when all the lights flicker on.

This is going to be so bad. And annoying, to say the least.

Putting on your apron, you step back out onto the floor, watching as Taehyung pushes buttons on the espresso machine carelessly.

"What are you doing?" you ask breathlessly.

He turns to you, a wide smile plastering onto his face. God, he's like an innocent puppy that sells deadly chocolatey poison to the other canines on his block. 

"I was trying to learn how to use it. I like espresso," he quips.

You watch as Hanna giggles sweetly, stepping away from showing Guk how to make latte art.

You find yourself smirking, shooing him out of the way. "I'll teach you."

Showing Taehyung isn't as difficult as you thought it would be. He picks up things fast and he's an eager learner.

"Jeongguk!" Hanna squeals, watching him overfill the coffee pot.

You sigh loudly, running your hands over your face. Teaching your brother on the other hand, that's like putting a live grenade in the shop.

You count your blessings that you have a lot of space behind the counter. It looks like a bomb exploded within ten minutes of your work day.

Turning your head to the first table closest to the counter, you can feel his eyes on you. When your eyes meet, he lets out a small snort seeing how irritated you are.

It's been four days since he's seen you and in his sinful mind, he almost forgot how gorgeous you are. He almost forgot how you roll your eyes with ease, how your sneer lights up the fear of God in others. Even how you huff out is intriguing.

He thought about you for days. Whether others knew it or not. He thought of how bold you were when you stuck up for his infamous little rat. How you loved your younger brother more than anything. He respects that.

He can remember how you begged him, how your eyes became blurry with tears pleading for Guk's life. Even how fierce you were when you silenced the younger man as he cowered by your side.

"Here," you mumble.

Yoongi looks up at you, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

He takes the coffee mug from you, looking down at the contents. A flat white.

"Thanks," he murmurs, watching the chaos behind the counter.

"Just take him back," you groan, sitting down beside him with a huff.

He chuckles gently, looking over at you. There it is, the gentle huff of irritation that makes him interested. 

"He's your brother," he quips.

"He's your rat," you retort, tightening your ponytail.

He snorts, tilting his head as Hanna throws her hands up in annoyance.

"Jeongguk," Yoongi calls him.

Immediately the younger man turns, patiently waiting for orders. The drug lord tosses his car keys to him.

"Go move my car," he orders, taking pity on you.

"Right away, boss!" he says, grabbing the keys out of the air.

You watch as Taehyung brings you a coffee. Your eyebrows flicker up in amusement, looking down at the latte. The latte art is a bit clumsy but overall it looks well prepared.

"Want a job?" you joke, leaning on the table and taking a sip.

"I think I'll stick with heroin, thanks though." 

You spit the coffee back into the cup, laughing loudly as he chuckles.

Taehyung isn't so bad.

Yoongi smirks watching your interaction. You were a good choice. 

"Show me how you made that," he orders his cartel member.

"Yes, boss."

Crossing your legs, you watch Yoongi deftly unbutton his suit jacket. His honey skin is highlighted by the rainbow beams that bounce off of the mirrored walls. His hands fold behind his back as both Hanna and Taehyung show him how to prepare it.

If you didn't know what he does for a living, if you didn't despise him for almost murdering your brother… you'd find him intriguing.

You could feel him boring holes into your body throughout your long work day. The morning rush moved in perfect symmetry with Hanna and Taehyung by your side. You're surprised Yoongi even let him work with you. But it worked out well. Almost perfectly.

Jeongguk was demoted to cleaning and you know he hated it with every groan he emitted when people left their tables.

"Don't whine, rat. This is punishment," Yoongi kept reminding him.

Finally when you were able to sneak off into the office to do paperwork, the drug lord wasn't far behind.

Sitting in the seat across from you, you raise an eyebrow at him. 

"Yes?" you ask, shuffling through the multitude of papers on your desk.

"Excited to come home with me tonight?" he inquires.

You sigh gently, purchasing your pen between your teeth. Leaning back in your chair, you kick your feet up on your desk. "Do I really have to go?" you ask.

"Yes, you do, sweetheart. Non-negotiable. We talked about this. We have a deal," he pushes.

"What do I have to do?" you inquire, pulling your hair out of your ponytail.

His thumb drifts over his lower lip, eyes trailing over the soft skin of your legs. "I need to train you how to deal with me in social settings. You can't be my girlfriend and sneer at me every ten seconds."

"Are you sure? Maybe we had a fight," you suggest.

"At every event we go to? Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

You grumble gently, pulling the pen from between your teeth. "Fine. What else?"

"I'll teach you about some of the other cartels from around here."

"How long do I have to stay at your house?" you breathe out, afraid of the answer.

"Until I say so."

You were afraid of that.

"I have a business to run, just like you," you remind him.

"Taehyung and Hanna can take care of it, I'm sure. Even Jeongguk, the good ol' bus boy, will work hard for you."

You run your hands over your face in disbelief. But, you signed a contract. Who are you to refuse?

"Jesus. Fuck. Fine," you gripe, shoving the papers away from you.

"Good girl," he praises, standing up.

The praise sends your body rigid and you hate it. 

"Relax," you mumble to him.

"You don't like nice compliments? You want to be berated? I can do both, if you want," he quips, pulling out a cigarette and heading to the office door.

"Berating?" you retort with a laugh.

"Get your sexy ass outside before I put you over my knee," he orders, leaving you on your own.

You blush furiously as the door swings shut. Without any care for yourself, you slam your forehead onto the desk in front of you.

"I hate it here," you mumble to yourself.

Standing in front of the Aston Martin, your head lolls back to look at the cloudless sky.

"Won't do you any good to just look at it," the drug lord quips, pulling from his cigarette and climbing into the driver's seat.

"Noona, are you going to be okay?" Jeongguk asks from the doorway.

"Do I have a choice, Jeon Jeongguk?" you retort, narrowing your eyes at him.

He makes himself smaller, blushing furiously at your annoyance. 

"I love you, noona," he whimpers.

"You're lucky I love you back," you seethe, opening the passenger's door and entering the car.

Looking over at Yoongi, his hand cards through his hair. "Ready, sweetheart?"

"No," you mumble, putting on your seatbelt.

"Perfect." he says, revving the engine.

He opens all the windows before opening up the top of the expensive convertible. You find yourself grateful for not having to be stuck in the stuffy car with him so close. Propping his wrist above the steering wheel, he pulls from his cigarette.

"Say goodbye to your coffee shop," he jeers, peeling off into the street.

As you drive, streets seem few and far between. A multitude of small forests and ponds greet your eyes.

"Where the hell do you live? In the wilderness?" you gawk, seeing a deer or two out of the corner of your eye.

"Don't worry about where I live, worry about what I'm going to make you do when you get there," he mumbles, flicking his cigarette out the window.

Does he think he's scaring you?

"Mhm," you droll, leaning back into the plush seat.

"Go in the glove box and grab me my sunglasses," he instructs.

You fold your arms, arching an eyebrow.

He takes a quick glance over at you, squinting as the sun goes in his eyes. "What's your problem?" he mumbles.

"I'm not a lackey. You can't order me around," you retort childishly.

He takes a deep breath, snorting at how fierce you are for absolutely no reason. "Sweetheart. Please grab me my sunglasses out of the glove box… Or I'll pull over and teach you why it's wrong to be a brat in my own fucking car."

You frown deeply, turning your head away from him as the wind blows through your hair. 

"I want respect. You don't know how to treat a woman politely? I didn't see a 'Let Yoongi verbally abuse you' clause in the contract," you huff out.

He peeks behind him, before turning the car sharply onto the side of the highway. You squeal loudly, gripping at the sides of your seat.

"Oh no, no, no," he whispers, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as the car comes to a halt. You don't want to look beside you… but you do.

Yoongi licks his lips, leaning in slowly with narrowed eyes. "Good girls deserve respect. You acting like a brat in my car right now, doesn't warrant my respect. It makes me want to teach you a lesson."

You clear your throat as his chest brushes against your arm, you can feel his taut muscles rippling under his crisp red work shirt. When he lifts his hand, you flinch away from him and he simply chuckles, punching open the glovebox.

"I'd never hit you, sweetheart," he mutters, grabbing his sunglasses.

You sigh softly, swallowing thickly as his fingers brush against your bare arm.

The warmth of his fingers sends tingles down your spine, the corners of your vision become blurry and you can't understand this feeling in the least.

When he pulls away, you feel your heart pang gently within the recesses of your chest. It's probably just relief.

Putting his sunglasses on, he turns his attention back to the road. 

"Your skin is soft," he comments, revving the engine once more.

The encounter that happened not too long ago wasn't exactly forgotten but it's pushed out of your head as the car begins to drive down a dirt road in the recesses in the forest.

"Don't tell me I signed this contract just to be murdered in the middle of a fucking forest," you whine, looking around for any and every landmark you can find.

"You're honestly more ridiculous than most crackheads I've met in my life," he breathes, smirking softly.

You go to retort something but you stop yourself as a huge mansion reveals itself in the midst of all the foliage around you.

Yoongi smirks, watching as you gawk at his home.

"What?! Do you sell to the queen of England or something?!" you whisper, angling your head out of the car for a better look.

"Yeah, she loves some angel dust with her mincemeat pies," he deadpans, pushing up his sunglasses.

You freeze when a man with a black haired mullet walks out from behind a tree with a sniper rifle.

"Boss," he greets stiffly, bowing to the both of you.

"Joon, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon."

You wave awkwardly, still staring at the gun in his hands. "Nice to meet you?" you whimper.

"Pleasure," Joon replies, slinging the gun over his shoulders and hanging his arms off either side.

When the gates open, you marvel back up at the house, ripping your eyes away from the muscled man beside the car.

"Do you like dogs?" Yoongi asks, driving into the gated compound.

"Yes," you reply truthfully.

"Good," he breathes out.

You're astounded at how beautiful Yoongi's home is. It's completely modern with clean lines of warm wood and expansive windows. The open concept makes you feel as if you've been transported to a completely different area of the world.

The large windows emit a warm glow, bringing life and vivaciousness to the forest around it.

This all seems so normal.

You half expected there to be men with bulletproof vests, patrolling a concrete compound surrounded by metal shipping containers.

You didn't know what to expect if you're being honest.

But it was not this.

Even with all the forestry around the home, the perfectly sculpted hedges that surround it make it feel so modish and chic. Not to mention the waterfalls on either side of the large glass entryway that falls into two koi ponds at the base of the home.

"Park my baby," Yoongi instructs Namjoon, opening his door.

"Yes, boss," Joon says quickly.

"Come on sweetheart, I'll show your room. Luckily for you, it's right next to mine."

And suddenly, he's ruined this experience.

Rolling your eyes, you follow him up the pebbled path.

Pushing his annoying words out of your mind, you find it easy to be amazed by his home.

There are men walking to and fro, laughing and drinking. Yoongi sighs loudly, picking up a piece of a wrapper outside the front door.

Once the door is opened, the house goes silent.

"Who the fuck is dropping garbage on my doorstep?! You idiots!" he chides loudly.

"Sorry boss!" they all reply, bowing deeply to him.

You can spot Hoseok and Jimin easily amidst the men.

You can hear claws against the stone flooring, getting closer and closer with each second.

"What is that noise?" you whisper appalled.

"My babies," Yoongi quips, clapping his hands together loudly.

You raise an eyebrow, freezing as the two wooden doors at the end of the living room bust open.

Two large German shepherds, two rottweilers and a Doberman pinscher come bolting towards the drug lord.

You squeak loudly, trying to make yourself smaller.

"Hi babies!" the drug lord cheers, bending down to accept the kisses and cuddles from his large dogs.

When a rottweiler notices you, the growl that echoes throughout the modern house sends you cowering against the large glass window behind you.

Yoongi whistles loudly, narrowing his eyes at the rottweiler. "No, Pesta. Y/N is welcome here," he says stiffly.

The rottweiler whimpers gently, coming toward you and knocking their head against your thigh.

"Hi," you whisper softly.

"Bend down, let them smell you. We don't usually have women here," he tells you, kissing the top of one of the dog's heads.

You do as told, bending down to let the dogs sniff you.

You giggle when the Doberman licks your cheek.

The sound sends Yoongi smirking. Standing up tall, he lights a cigarette.

"Holly likes you," he comments, watching one of the German Shepard's lay down at your feet.

"He's cute," you quip, petting the top of Holly's head.

"The more you're around, the more they'll get comfortable. They're guard dogs first and foremost," Yoongi says, walking farther into the house.

You smile kindly at the dogs, following after the drug lord.

"So, you already know Hoseok and Jimin. You know Namjoon and Taehyung. But this Seokjin. He runs things when I'm not around," Yoongi introduces you.

"Nice to meet you," you say awkwardly.

You spot the tiger tattoo on all the men's necks and it puts you in a weird sense of comfort.

"Do you all live here?" you ask, accepting a glass of wine from Jimin.

"No. We have houses a bit deeper in the forest," Hoseok replies.

Oh. So you'll be all alone in this beautiful house with this handsome drug lord and five adorable dogs. Great.

"Put your money on the table before you leave and don't break anything," Yoongi orders, walking over to the stairs.

"Yes, boss," they all chirp.

"Come on, sweetheart. We have some training to do."

The second floor is just as impressive as the first floor. There's bronze artwork that hangs on the wall is beautiful and perfectly placed.

Yoongi breezes past a room, not even giving it a second glance but you notice the heavy duty reinforced steel doors that are a glaring difference to the rest of the house.

"What's that room?" you inquire, trudging your way up the stairs with the accompaniment of a multitude of dogs.

"My office. It's off limits. Remember that," he replies, turning towards you with pointed eyes.

"I can't even ask questions?" you quip, walking down the hallway.

"Sweetheart," Yoongi breathes out, leaning against the glass banister.

Your eyebrows quip up at how serious he is.

"Fine, I won't ask about it," you mumble.

You stare at the doors as you continue to walk, your curiosity beginning to eat at you.

What could possibly be behind that door?

Your bedroom is breathtaking to say the least.

The modernist chandelier and impressively sized bed scream perfection.

"Your closet has been stocked," the drug lord tells you, shoving open the sliding wooden door.

Peeking inside, you raise your eyebrow at him.

All of the clothes seem to be appropriate, and honestly… really stylish.

"I'll let you get situated and you can join me in the living room when you're done," he says, tapping the door way.

He whistles sharply and all the dogs follow him besides Holly. 

"Seems like you have a new friend," he quips, smirking as Holly lays on the floor in front of you.

The water pressure in this house is probably your favorite thing so far. The waterfall shower is luxurious and the bathroom is something out of an art exhibit.

Yoongi seems to have bought you mostly dresses so you opt for a black lace dress that hugs your every curve delicately.

"Come on, Holly boy," you say cutely, adoring how the dog jumps up at your command.

With the sun now setting, you find yourself in awe. The gentle lavenders and peaches that sweep across the sky above the large tree canopies is something straight out of a glorious painting.

"Whoa," you breathe out.

Never in a million years would you think that a sight as beautiful as this would be offered to you.

Holly nudges his large head against you and it reminds you of the task at hand.

"Come on!" you giggle, walking down the stairs with the German shepherd in tow.

When you reach the first floor, you can see Yoongi counting stacks of money that have been left on the dining room table. His head turns to you acknowledging your presence but his mouth mutters numbers while his thumb slides over the bills in hand. He nods to the living room, throwing a stack of bills into a briefcase beside him.

"Five hundred thousand… Sit down sweetheart, I left some wine for you," he mumbles, putting a cigarette between his teeth.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know, it's bad for you," you tell him, walking over to the cream colored couches.

He snorts gently, picking up the last stack of bills. "I'll keep that in mind."

Picking up the glass of wine, you smile at the dogs as they come to keep you company.

They sit perfectly still, staring up at you with soft eyes and your heart clenches at how unbelievably cute they are.

Yoongi mumbles numbers under his breath, the sound of him rippling paper under his thumb is hypnotizing.

You fold your bare legs beneath you on the couch, staring ahead at the television mounted above the large fireplace.

The screen is muted but you watch men rushing around to create swords out of nothing but mere metal.

You hum inquisitively, bringing the wine glass to your lips.

You pat the spot beside you and Holly immediately takes the offer, jumping up and laying his large head on your lap.

Becoming entranced in the show, you don't even register that Yoongi has stopped counting.

When he closes the briefcase, he turns to you. Leaning back against the table, he ashes out his cigarette.

He takes this moment to truly look at you. You look enrapturing with your wet hair cascading over your shoulders. The black dress he's bought you hugs your body perfectly and your bare legs look so soft and delicate tucked beneath you. He finds it adorable how your lips part when you're interested in something. Your eyes are soft as you look at the television screen.

You've never looked at him with soft eyes. He can understand why though, his job, his whole being is difficult to love. He touches his scar gently, grabbing his glass of wine from beside him.

You giggle gently at the television and he tilts his head to the noise. When you're carefree, he likes that best. He's rarely seen it but he enjoys how widely and openly you can smile.

At the coffeeshop today, while he sat at the table closest to the counter, he could see how you smiled so kindly at customers. He could see how sweetly your face lit up when seeing your regulars.

You're gorgeous.

Looking at his dogs, how easily they've gotten used to you warms his heart. Especially Holly. When he first got Holly, he was an angry dog that was terrified of all people because of the terrible situation he came from. But to see Holly's head nestled into your lap, with his eyes closed and just enjoying your company -- it makes him feel overjoyed.

Clearing his throat gently, he walks towards you.

"You're into sword making?" he quips, sitting down on the couch beside yours.

Your head is slow to turn, obviously enjoying the spectacle before you. "I guess so. This guy John, he just made a katana but I'm almost positive it's going to break on the first swing."

Yoongi chuckles, throwing his arm over the lip of the couch. "Well, it seems like you're an expert blacksmith."

You wrinkle your nose, lips parting wider as the katana breaks on the first swing. 

"Guess so," you jeer, raising your wine glass to the t.v.

"You ready for training? Or do you want to just watch more Forged In Fire the whole night?" he asks, grabbing the remote.

"More Forged In Fire, please," you mutter.

He snorts loudly shutting off the television and you sneer at him.

Fiery little thing.

"What is the training anyway?" you inquire, sipping your wine.

"We're going to get used to each other's touch. Get used to some kisses on the cheek. You touch me. I touch you," he announces.

Your eyes widen at how serious he is.

"Wh-What?! I don't want to kiss you!" you squeak.

"It's just for show, sweetheart. If I touch you at an event and you pull away from me or tense up… It's going to look weird."

"Yeah, because it is!" you counter, appalled.

Yoongi sighs gently, chugging his wine and setting the glass down on the black coffee table.

"You're supposed to be my girlfriend, the love of my life, you can't be pulling away from me at the drop of a hat."

"Well then I won't!" you say confidently.

He laughs gently, standing up. "Let's test that theory then."

Your body goes rigid as he rounds the couch. Just the simple thought of him coming up behind you sets you wrought with nerves.

He clicks his teeth simply, dragging his hand along the top of the couch.

You can smell his cologne while your eyes flutter shut. Your heart begins to beat faster in the recesses of your chest.

"Hi, beautiful," he whispers in your ear.

You let out a gentle squeak, tilting your face away from his as you feel his warm breath coax over your neck.

"This won't do, sweetheart." he chides softly, running his fingers over your bare arm.

"O-Okay. I see what you mean, but just don't touch me then," you gasp out.

His skin is so warm against yours. When he drags his hand over your shoulder, your eyes spring open. He keeps his hand there, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb into your muscles.

"Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to take advantage of you, sweetheart. I'm just getting you comfortable with my touch," he coos gently.

Holly jumps off of your lap and your comfort blanket is well and truly gone.

"Stand," Yoongi commands.

You bite your bottom lip nervously, doing as told. Your knees are shaking quite a bit, if you're being honest.

Maybe you should just try to relax. He said he isn't going to take advantage of you and you believe him.

"I've never been, y'know… Touched sweetly before so…" you breathe out.

His head tilts at your words. 

You've never been touched sweetly? What kind of fucking men have you been with?

"Alright," he whispers, "We'll take it slow then."

When you round the couch, he's taken aback by how fucking frightened you are.

"Jesus," he whispers under his breath.

Your hands fall to your sides, fingers itching gently at the black fabric that keeps you snug.

"First things first, let's just go over what I'll be doing with you at events."

"Uh huh," you gasp.

It's kind of difficult to hear him over the loud roar of your heart in your ears.

"When we're at events there's an unspoken rule between drug lords and their women. It just kind of flows naturally. A drug lord's woman is usually all over them, it's their way of telling other girls to fuck off."

"They can have you," you surmise.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, his lips quirking up in a smirk. "Smart ass, listen to me when I tell you that you may not want me but the women that come to these events will fight tooth and nail to see just a glimpse of me in their bedrooms. You're paying off a debt. As of right now you have to be the best fucking actress on the face of this earth. Meryl Streep? She's a bug compared to you, got it? You need to show these women that I'm yours just as much as you are mine."

A whine leaves your throat, your foot stomps childishly on the floor. 

"Why do you even need a woman to go with you anyway?!" you gripe, folding your arms.

His hand grips your wrist, tugging you into his chest with a quickness that knocks the air from your lungs.

You gape at the action, eyes squeezing shut as he turns you around. His chest presses into your back and you swallow thickly at how taut his skin is through his dress shirt. He pulls your folded arms apart, fighting with you every inch of the way. 

"Just relax," he whispers.

"I need a woman with me because many of the other cartels around me think that I'm a pushover. They think I'm just some punk kid from the streets of Daegu that came up from dirt shillings. They think I don't belong and that I don't deserve what I've made with my own two hands. Any cheap moron can fuck a pretty girl. But, a woman as gorgeous as you. As fierce and beautiful as you are -- they mean something in my lifestyle. They demand respect, demand security. Men without women aren't respected. They look like fodder for the wolves. You will make me look like I have something. Something important. I'll have you."

You take a deep breath, letting his words shroud you like a cover.

"Alright," you whisper, feeling your legs straighten back up.

"I don't think carelessly, I don't just do things for shits and giggles. I have a thought process," he mumbles, his warm breath fans over the skin of your neck and you find it difficult to focus on anything but his arms around you.

His grip loosens slightly and he smirks when your tense back muscles lax against him.

"Just like that, you don't have to be nervous around me. I promise," he swears.

Your heartbeat has slowed down by now, the  praise of his words still enrapturing your ears. He thinks you're gorgeous… No one's ever said that to you before.

"When I hold you close to me like this when we're at an event, you're my comfort blanket. You're my bulletproof shield," he whispers, angling his head to look at your pretty face.

Even in the gentle glow of the living room, you shine as brightly as a new day.

"Are you ready for me to kiss you?" he asks.

"WHAT?!" you wheeze, spinning around to look at him.

He smiles then, the shadow of his scar deepening as he chuckles.

"I'll be kissing you in four places when we're in public. The hand. The neck. The cheek. And very rarely," his thumb glides over your bottom lip and you freeze at his gentle touch, "these pretty lips."

You swallow thickly, your eyes glancing up to meet his own. You're astounded at how soft his gaze is as he looks upon you.

When he takes your hand, his eyebrow quips up. 

"Very easy, sweetheart. This is normal," he promises.

When he lifts your hand to his face, your breathing becomes shallow. He keeps his eyes on you even when you press your lips into a thin line nervously.

His lips are plush and soft against the back of your hand. You can feel your knees knocking together at the simple kiss.

"That's it?" you whimper.

"That's it. I'm not Gomez Addams, I'm not gonna kiss up your whole arm," he quips, brushing some hair behind your ear gently.

You feel your neck heat up out of embarrassment.

"C-Can I get some wine?" you croak.

He leans over the couch, grabbing your glass from the table and you're quick to chug it all the second you receive it.

No matter how tough and fierce your exterior looks, Yoongi surmises that you're like a bowl of Jello inside.

How has no one doted on you before? You can't possibly be serious.

"I'll just kiss your neck next, okay?" he inquires, running his hand soothingly over your arm.

You give a small nod, grateful for the alcoholic warmth that flutters in your belly.

You can feel the ghost of his lips still on the back of your hand and it fills you with an emotion you've never quite had before.

Setting the glass back down, he waits patiently for you to turn away from him.

"Ready, sweetheart?"

You hum uneasily, nodding unsurely.

One hand falters to your hip while the other pulls at the collar of your black dress.

Taking another deep breath in, you catch your reflections through the television screen. You bite your bottom lip nervously, watching his head slowly creep towards you.

He looks so sensual, even through the reflection. You can feel his chest muscles pressing into your back and you remind yourself to just let this experience wash over you like a wave.

In all actuality, you want to get comfortable. You want to do well. You don't want to be afraid to be touched your whole life.

When you feel his breath against your neck, you shiver. Your eyes want to close but you're enraptured with the reflection before you.

Then you feel it -- his lips pressing against your heated skin. He takes a second, running his lips over the junction between your neck and shoulder. You could melt into a puddle and it wouldn't be enough. He feels so soft against you, so absolutely sensual.

When you feel his lips trail up your neck, your eyes flutter shut. There's a neediness to his lips you've never felt before, a yearning that you're dying to understand.

When you moan gently, it's swallowed by the air. Shivers run up your spine and you feel your body pressing deeper into his. His grip on your hip becomes rougher than before, pulling you back against him.

When he begins to leave hot, open mouthed kisses to the column of your neck, your mind begins to daze. It's so fucking erotic to watch him through the television as his eyes flutter shut.

His breathing becomes heavier and you let out a gentle squeak as your own eyes flutter shut. You can feel his gnarled scar graze across your jaw bone while he peppers kisses farther across your skin.

You almost want to turn around, to feel more. You want him to wrap his a-

Holly barks loudly, sending you both recoiling from one another.

"So yeah, just like that," he rasps, clearing his throat and running his fingers through his hair.

"Right. Yeah. Got it," you whisper, feeling your ears burn.

You both scramble for the bottle of wine, not saying a simple word.

When your hand touches his, he's the one that recoils first.

"Whisky," he whispers, walking over to the bar caddy and filling up a glass almost to the rim.

He takes a long swig, letting the burn swirl through his esophagus.

Your skin is so fucking soft.

He peeks back over at you as you greedily chug the wine. He notices your hands shaking and he can barely contain the smirk that wants to spread over his features.

He doesn't know what to say to you. He doesn't know how to cut the awkwardness.

"Well. That was-"

"Helpful," you finish for him.

"Helpful. Yeah," he mumbles, scratching at his scar.

His eyes narrow at Holly bitterly and he taps his fingers against the bar uneasily.

"Any more training?" you find yourself asking.

"I can just hold you," he suggests.

Turning your head to him, you take in how flushed he looks. You can see the pink blush that sits prettily on the apples of his cheeks.

"Holding is fine," you concur.

He straightens his shirt, pulling at the collar innocently to get some air flow to his heated chest.

When he sits beside you on the couch, you oddly don't find yourself pulling away from him.

"I'm just gonna sling my arm over your shoulders and you can cuddle into me."

When would you ever do this at an event?! You would never. But you allow yourself to be pulled into his chest.

"Good?" he asks softly.

You hum in agreement, staring at the television screen.

You fit perfectly into his side. Almost as if two puzzle pieces were suddenly joined.

His index finger swirls around the lip of his glass and he just stays still, appreciating how close you are.

As you continue to stare at him through the reflection, you can see how gentle he is. His thumb swipes over your bare arm mindlessly and once again you're comforted.

Maybe getting comfortable with him isn't the biggest hurdle. Maybe it'll be pulling yourself away.

<----- Last Chapter                                                                   Next Chapter ----->

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#the deal #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #drug dealer!yoongi #bts fic #yoongi smut #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub

[folklorelise]

The cadets are turned into kids and think you and Levi are their parents (2)

Here is PART 2 of this!

MASTERLIST

— You were mad at them.

Since the cadets turned into kids you were more stressed than usual – between taking care of them all, doing your paperwork in time and helping Hange with theirs, it was a lot. Adding to this, your sleeping hours were cut in half as well due to kids never sleeping. You were overwhelmed and on edge, ready to snap at any moment.

“Levi,” you called him after lunch, “can you watch over the kids for a few hours? I–.” you took a deep breath, “I just have to take a bath and rest a little bit… it won’t be long!”

“Of course, take your time.” Levi kissed your forehead before leaving your room.

Levi went to the children’s room while you went to relax a bit.

“Where’s mommy?” Eren asked when Levi came in alone.

“She’ll come later.”

“I want mommy now!” Jean shouted frowning.

“Stop whining or she won’t come here at all.” Levi told them which made them all shut up.

They continued to play together when Jean came to Levi. He struggled to climb on the couch but succeeded and sat on Levi’s lap. He turned around so he could face Levi and asked.

“When is mommy coming here?”

“I don’t know.” Levi answered calmly.

“Play with us then!” Jean pouted. “Come with us.” Jean stood on Levi’s lap when Levi ignored him.

“No. Sit down or leave.” Levi told him in a harsh tone. “No, don’t cry.” Levi’s voice softened when he saw Jean’s tears. “I’ll come and play ok? Just… don’t cry.” Levi stood up with Jean in his arms.

For a few hours, Levi had to play dolls with the kids who were really into it – imagining complex stories, doing voices etc. It was dinner time when they all started to get tired of playing.

“Where’s mommy?” Armin asked shyly.

“Aren’t you all hungry?” Levi quickly changed the subject.

“Yay!” they all shouted.

“I’ll go grab something to eat then, don’t move.” Levi ordered before leaving the room.

When Levi left the room, Eren stood up and told the others that he was going to look for you. Sasha, Connie, Mikasa and Armin were against the idea knowing that Levi would not be happy about it, then there was Jean who agreed with Eren.

“Fine, we’ll leave without you!” Eren opened the door with difficulty.

Mikasa quickly followed Eren and Jean as well as Armin because lately, Armin got the habit of following or imitating Jean. Wherever Jean went, Armin would follow – whatever Jean was doing, Armin would do the same. Jean felt irritated when Armin follow or copied him, but he never said anything. He did once – the first time – and Armin cried which made Jean felt bad and he swore never to make Armin cry again.

“Where is mommy?” Armin asked.

“I don’t know.” Eren said.

“Just go to her room.” Mikasa commented.

They all run to your room and it was not locked. You were trying to sleep in your bed after a few hours of work when you suddenly heard the kids yelling.

“Mommy!” Jean yelled, jumping in your bed.

Meanwhile, Levi immediately regretted his decision when he came back to only two kids out of six. He asked them where the rest of them went and Sasha told him that they were looking for you. Levi took them with him and directly went to your room. Armin and Mikasa were clinging onto you while Jean and Eren were shouting and jumping on the bed.

“Stop jumping on the bed or you’ll break it!” you desperately tried to stop them.

“Eren! Jean! Stop.” Levi ordered in a harsh tone which made them immediately stop. “Y/N,” Levi said more softly, “are you ok?”

“Is mommy sick?” Sasha asked.

“No.” you said.

“Then come play us!” Eren shouted.

“Stop screaming.” you warned him. “And let go of me.” you told Armin and Mikasa but none of them listened to you.

“Kids, come here and let’s go.” Levi tried.

“NO!” Eren shouted loudly, “MOMMY! Come play with us!”

“Mommy!” Jean joined Eren.

“Stop calling me that!” you shouted back which made everyone shut up, “I am not your mother so all of you… just –.” you felt tears falling down, “stop.”

“Mommy?” Mikasa whispered worried.

“I heard shouting outside.” Erwin came in. “What’s happening?” he asked worried.

“Take the kids with you.” Levi said. “And close the door please.”

Erwin did not questioned Levi’s request and took the kids with him in his office. None of the kids wanted to leave you, but Erwin easily took them in his arms. Levi walked to you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Levi murmured. “Let’s sit down.”

Levi brought you to bed and sat next you and let you cry on his shoulder. He would just hold you close to him until you stopped crying.

“I feel like shit.” you sobbed. “The kids probably hate me by now too.”

“They don’t.”

“Did you hear what I said? Th-they’re kids! And I- I just yelled at them.” you lamented, “I am the worst mother ever, and they’re not even my real kids!”

“I’m sure everything will work out.”

Erwin on his way to his office with the children saw Hange and brought them with him. Erwin, with Hange’s help, tried to cheer the kids up but they would not stop crying – they wanted to be with you and Levi.

“Is mommy going to leave us?” Armin sobbed.

“No!” Erwin said quickly.

“Y/N, she loves you all very much.” Hange said. “But you have to understand that she was… mh… very tired and she had a lot of work to do.”

“And sometimes,” Erwin continued, “you just have to let that person alone.”

“We have to leave mommy?” Connie asked.

“Yes,” Hange said, “but not forever. It would just be for a day so she can rest.”

“Is mommy not going to be our mommy because we made her upset?” Jean asked shyly.

“No, of course not.” Erwin reassured them. “I’m sure she’ll come back soon.”

Erwin and Hange stayed with the kids until night before Levi came in to put them to bed. Once they cleaned up and changed, they all went to bed without protest.

“Ok, I’ll turn off the lights.” Levi walked out.

“Daddy.” Armin called him before he closed the door, “Is mommy not going to say goodnight to us?”

“She’s n –.” Levi thought about it, “I’ll go and ask her.”

Levi came back to your room and you were already laying in bed, comfortably installed under the blanket. Levi sat next to you and rested his head on your stomach.

“The kids want to see you.”

“Aren’t they upset?” you worried, putting your hand through his hair.

“No, they’re just… they want to see you.”

“I should go then.” you stood up. “I’ll be right back.” you kissed him before leaving.

You walked very quickly toward the kids room and when you opened the door, you noticed they were all still up even though the lights were off. Sasha was the first one to see you and she jumped out of the bed to hug you.

“Hey.” you smiled, kneeling down. “Aren’t you sleepy?”

“No.” Sasha smiled.

“Let’s go back to bed alright?”

You sat down on the bed next to all the kids – they were all staring at you, waiting for you to talk first.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier.” you apologised. “I should never have yelled at you kids.”

“Don’t stop being my mommy please.” Eren frowned.

“We’re sorry mommy.” Jean said with teary eyes.

“No don’t be.” you comforted them, “I love you all very much.” you smiled.

You opened your arms and they all came to hug you, smiling and happy.

— They sleep between you two — captain dad and squad leader mum.

Armin:

Armin had a nightmare about you leaving for an expedition and not coming back to him. He had Levi coming back devastated and not talking to him or anyone. A stranger – someone from your squad – had to tell him the news that you were never coming back. He woke up panicked and ran to your room. You and Levi agreed that the doors to your room would always be opened if there were any problems.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Armin came in crying.

“Armin?” Levi woke up. “Hey what’s wrong?” he put Armin between you too.

“What’s wrong?” you asked still half asleep.

“Mommy!” Armin cried next to you which woke you up instantly.

“What happened?” you panicked. “Armin, it’s ok.” you patted his head, “I’m here.”

“You didn’t come back.” Armin sobbed.

“What?” you whispered looking at Levi.

“I don’t know.” Levi mouthed.

“Armin,” you wiped his tears away, “what happened?”

“Bad dream.” Armin sobbed harder. “You were n-not here and daddy was s-sad! An-and he wasn’t w-with me!”

“Armin, it’s ok.” you reassured him, “I’m here and daddy’s here too.”

Levi laid on the bed and put Armin next to him. You took the blanket and put it on the three of you and soon enough, Armin calmed down and fell back asleep. In the morning, Armin was found to be sleeping on top of Levi, with his hand resting on Armin’s back so he would not fall.

“This is too much for my heart.” you whispered to yourself.

Jean:

Jean had been feeling slightly sick for the past couple of days but did not tell anyone. He stayed in bed when it was time to eat dinner and you were worried at first which made you bring him dinner but he was asleep already. You brought back the tray and gave it to the kids who were not against the idea of eating more.

Jean woke up in the middle of the night, still slightly sick and extremely hungry. He discreetly go out of bed and went to your room. When Jean came in, he noticed lights were still on – Levi was still awake, probably working.

“Daddy?” Jean asked timidly. Which startled Levi.

“What are you still doing up at this hour?” Levi whispered, scared to wake you up.

“I’m hungry.” Jean admitted.

“Come here.” Levi put away his papers.

Levi took him in his arms and put him on the bed between you two which woke you up.

“Mh. What’s wrong?” you mumbled.

Jean turned his head toward Levi so he could answer for him.

“Jean’s hungry.” Levi said.

“Mh – I’m up.” you dragged yourself out of bed slowly. “I’m going to bring you some food alright?” you patted Jean’s head and noticed his forehead was a little hot. “Are you sick Jean?” you asked worried.

“No.” Jean answered.

“Jean, don’t lie. Are you sick?” Levi asked again.

“I don’t know.” Jean said looking at his hands playing with the blanket.

“Jean,” you said softly, “it’s ok. I’ll go and bring some hot tea too alright?”

You went to the kitchen and prepared some food and started to boil some water as well. You took two cups – one for Jean and another for Levi - and poured some water in it with the tea leafs. You put the smashed potatoes and the vegetables on a plate and put everything on a tray before going back to your room. Levi started to feed Jean while you prepared a cold towel for Jean.

“Jean, what did you forget earlier?” Levi said when you came back.

“Thank you mommy!” Jean smiled.

“You’re welcome baby.” you smiled back.

When Jean finished eating, Levi offered to cleaned it up while you put Jean to sleep. You thanked him and went back to bed. You put the cold towel on Jean’s forehead and laid next to him.

“You can sleep now.” you rest your hand on Jean stomach.

“Good night mommy.”

“Good night.”

“Good night daddy!” Jean said when Levi came back to bed.

Eren:

Just like Armin, Eren had a nightmare that night. When he first woke up, he tried to go back to sleep because he did not want to bother you nor Levi. But after thirty minutes of trying, he went to your bedroom. This time, both of you were asleep.

Eren hesitated a second about whether he should wake you up or not. He quickly decided not to and laid on the floor. Levi woke up not too long after Eren came in because he was thirsty. He only noticed Eren’s presence when he came back from the kitchen.

“Y/N.” Levi whispered

“Mmh?”

“Eren’s on the ground.”

“Mh.” you mumbled, “What?” you asked again a minutes later – your eyes wide open.

“Look.” Levi pointed at Eren.

“What is he doing on the ground?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bring him here.” you told Levi.

“You do it.” Levi argued.

“I’ll wake him up.”

“And I won’t?”

“You never did when I used to fell asleep in your office.” you reminded him.

“Fine.”

Levi miraculously brought Eren on the bed without waking him up and put him between you two. During the night, Eren ended up on Levi’s left side meaning Levi was in the middle. While he had his arms around Eren – so he would not fall – you had yours around Levi.

— Sasha and Connie would often sneak out and sleep with you and Levi.

— Mikasa never did. When she had nightmares she would only hug her teddy bear closer. She was scared to bother you. Once she did wake Sasha up and slept closer to her.

——————————

Shorter Stories

— Mikasa was known to be always quiet – she was afraid to bother people especially you or Levi. Even when she was hurt, she would stay quiet. Once during a meeting, she accidentality cut herself with a piece of paper. It was Eren, ten minutes later who had to tell you.

“Next time, you tell me immediately ok?” you told Mikasa as you cleaned the cut.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“You had to leave for me.” Mikasa explained.

“You are more important than the meeting, so next time just tell me alright?”

Mikasa only nodded and followed you back to the meeting.

— Jean is known to be a momma’s boy – he would always stay with you and play with you rather than Levi. He often cried when you had to leave without them. He loved to be held by you, he knew how to walk perfectly, but he would rather stay with you.

“Stop spoiling him.” Levi would often say to you.

“I can’t help it. Jean is adorable!”

When others were watching over the kids, you were the one Jean would be asking for, not Levi which surprised you when Hange came because Jean hurt himself while playing.

“Jean’s at the infirmary – nothing serious though!” Hange quickly added.

“I’ll go.” you stood up.

“Mh…” Hange stopped you, “he asked for Levi.”

“Are you sure?” you asked them.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” you gasped dramatically, “did you hear that?”

“What?” Levi asked ready to leave.

“My heart being broken by that kid.” you threw yourself back to bed.

When Jean got better, he immediately came back to you. You tried to be mad at Jean – in a playful way – but when you saw him nearly crying, you apologised and let him stay with you.

— The kids were staying with you in the morning, and it was decided that Levi would watch them after lunch because you had work to do with your squad. You were holding Eren in your arms and he refused to let go of you when Levi arrived.

“I want to stay with mommy please!” Eren cried holding onto you.

“Eren,” you calmed him down, “I will be back really quick, I promise.”

“Noo!” Eren cried as Levi took him.

Eren was desperately trying to hold your arms, but Levi was swift. Eren leaned over and grabbed your hair and pulled it which made you scream and lose your balance.

“Eren!” Levi yelled putting him down. “Y/N, are you ok?” he knelt down.

“I’m fine.” you reassured him, “it’s ok.”

“Mommy?” Eren hesitated.

“Eren,” Levi started, “go to your room with the others.” but Eren did not move, “right now!” Levi ordered.

“Levi.” you put your hands on his face, “I’m ok.” you turned to Eren who was now crying silently. “Eren, it’s ok, I’m fine.”

“’M sorry mommy!”

“It’s ok, now go with daddy and listen to him ok?”

Eren nodded and took Levi’s hand and left.

“Sorry daddy.” Eren sobbed.

“Mh.” Levi answered. “Don’t ever do that again am I clear?”

“Never!”

——————————

Short HCs:

— Sasha’s birthday happened that year when they were still kids. You all baked a cake together.

— Connie would often draw pictures of you all as a family during meetings.

— Erwin loved staying with the kids. He would often put them to bed.

— Hange loved the kids too – they would always play with them outside with Moblit, Mike and Nanaba.

PART 3 (coming soon)

#attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #squad leader mom au #eren yeager x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean kirstein x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #sasha braus x reader #connie springer x reader #platonic relationships! #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman #snk x reader #snk #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #i couldn't fit everything in here so there will be a part 3!

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

2.

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

3.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #not sfw #writing #jjk teacher aid au #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk writing tag

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [2/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: it seems this may be a little bit of a slow burn, based on the pacing and where I am in chapter three right now... Enjoy!

You woke up to the sound of metal clanging together, an unpleasant alarm if you’d ever heard one. “Get up, get dressed, and be in the training room in two minutes,” Four said, banging the metal together one last time before leaving the room. 

Everyone scrambled to get dressed in their new black Dauntless clothes, and as people entered the training area, they began to form a semicircle around Four and Eric. “Ok, let’s get started,” Four said, clapping his hands together. “There are two stages of training. The first is physical, you will push your bodies to the breaking point and you will master the methods of combat. The second is mental, again breaking point. You’ll face your worst fears and conquer them--unless they get you first. You’ll be trained separately from the Dauntless-born, but you’ll be ranked together. After initiations, rankings will determine what jobs you move into: leadership, guarding the fence, or keeping the factionless from killing each other.”

“The rankings will also determine who gets cut,” Eric cut in, rising from where he sat on a concrete slab. An uneasy whisper spread throughout the initiates. No one knew about this, and you had to admit, you were getting a bit nervous yourself. “At the end of each stage of training, the lowest-ranking initiates will be leaving us,” Eric continued. 

“To do what?” asked Al.

“Well, you can’t go home to your families, so you’ll be factionless.”

Another wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd of initiates, but it was quickly silenced by Eric’s glare. “Someone should have told us,” Christina said.

“Why? Would you have chosen differently? Out of fear?” Eric replied challengingly. “I mean, if that’s the case, you might as well get out now. If you’re really one of us, it won’t matter to you that you might fail, alright? You chose us. Now, we get to choose you.” Eric looked at each initiate, his blue eyes challenging each person to look away. Some people did, others didn’t. You didn’t. 

Instead, you held his intense gaze as the itch to prove others wrong that had been inside you since the day you were born rose up, ready to be set free. What Eric said was scary, but it didn’t matter--all your years of studying the faction system told you that they would try to scare the initiates, and while you hadn’t expected this, you had known it wouldn’t be easy. But you had worked your ass off for years to be top of the class in Erudite, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to do the same here, in your new faction. 

--

“Everyone, get some water before we move into the next segment of training,” Four called out. It took everything in you not to bend over as some others were doing; you knew standing up straight, getting fresh air in your lungs, would make the cramp in your abdomen go away faster, even if it hurt more now. 

“Tris, stand up straight,” you whispered to your friend, who was red-faced after running twenty laps around the room, which was everyone’s warm-up for the day. 

“Just so you know, tomorrow we won’t just be running laps,” Four said, surveying all the tired initiates. “So get used to this.” 

You sighed, mentally thanking yourself for joining a small workout group in Erudite. It was fairly new, and it was only created because studies showed that after some physical activity, the brain was better equipped to come back to problems it struggled with earlier and continue working whereas remaining stagnant was more likely to result in burnout and fatigue. The workouts were nothing like this, but you were still appreciative of them.

“Alright, everyone find a punching bag and start hitting. Eric and I will be walking around correcting your form, but it’s on you to put our advice into practice. Go,” Four announced after barely even a minute of the “break” had gone by. 

Turning on your heel, you walked over to the nearest punching bag and lined yourself up. Feet spread evenly about as wide as your shoulders, then step the left foot forward just a bit. Knees bent slightly, fists raised high. Then, you get to punching. 

After what felt like an hour of hearing Four quietly critiquing other students between Eric’s shouts of disappointment at other initiates, the two trainers finally got to your area of the training room. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Four walking up to Tris, slightly adjusting her position and giving helpful tips. Another set of footsteps came to a stop behind you, which meant Eric would be the one helping you. Your shoulders tensed for a moment, but you quickly forced yourself into a more relaxed position and continued punching. Just pretend he isn’t there, you told yourself. After hitting the punching bag six times, called out “Stop” from behind you. He walked over to your side and took a fighting stance. “Make sure your hips are square, like this, so when you throw a punch with the hand that is further back, you can twist your hips and use core strength to put more power into it,” he said stoically, and you did your best to mimic his stance. “No, like this,” he said, grabbing your hips and twisting them, holding you firmly in place for a second before letting go. “Try it now,” he said. You started throwing punches again, and he nodded before silently walking away. When you paused to readjust your stance, you heard Eric yell “Did I say you could stop, Y/N? No, I did not; keep going!” You took a deep breath and began the next onslaught of punches as the room fell quiet save for the sound of fists hitting punching bags, a rhythmic thumping sound. 

“First jumper!” Eric called out, disrupting the steady beat and sense of calmness in the room. “In the ring.” Beside him, Four sighed and looked down at his feet, and you had a bad feeling about whatever was about to happen. “Last jumper,” he continued, looking at a girl with dark hair--you think you may have heard her friends call her Molly, but you aren’t entirely sure. “Time to fight.”

Tris and the girl stepped up to the ring. “How long do we fight for?” the girl asked.

“Until one of you can’t continue,” Eric said in response. 

“Or one of you concedes,” Four interjected, stepping forward. 

“According to the old rules,” Eric corrected. “With the new rules, no one concedes.”

“You really want to lose someone in their first fight?”

“Well, a brave man never surrenders.” 

“Lucky for you, those weren’t the rules when we fought.”

Eric clenched his jaw, irritated, before saying “You’ll be scored on this, so fight hard.” Tris and the other girl squared up and began to circle each other, but Eric was getting impatient. “Go!” he barked. 

After nearly falling off the mat, Tris lunged, but the other girl dodged, twisted, and retaliated with a swing of her own, landing a punch to Tris’ face. As Tris retreated, the other girl pressed her advantage, catching Tris’ waist, bending her over, and punching her stomach a few times before Tris managed to break free of her hold. Just as she reached the end of the mat and turned, Tris was met with another punch to the face, sending her to the floor. The other girl--Molly--glanced at Eric since Tris was down, and he nodded, signaling Molly to send one last blow Tris’ way, knocking her out. As you watched the fight, you felt bad for your friend; she was much smaller than Molly, and part of you wanted to speak up about the cruelty that the trainers were showing, but you shoved it down. There was no need to compromise your position right now. 

“Next,” Eric yelled, pointing to a girl named Selene and a former Candor named Peter who had made fun of Tris, calling her a Stiff several times. You secretly hoped Selene would kick his ass, but it was unlikely, he was tall and strong, plus he was willing to fight dirty--he’d admitted as much in the dorm area. Guess he still couldn’t keep his mouth shut, even though he’d left Candor.

Selene was tough; what she lacked in strength she made up for in endurance, but after a few rounds of dodging Peter’s punches, he finally landed one to her solar plexus, stunning her, allowing him to sweep her legs out from underneath her and kick her as she lay on the ground. You clenched your jaw as he did so, feeling anger rise up inside of you. Selene was unable to fight, that was the stopping point of the fights, but Peter was still kicking her. And Eric, the emotionless person that he was, didn’t do anything. 

“Peter,” you said, “stop it.” Peter turned towards you and smirked.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he taunted. You considered for a second before turning to Eric. 

Looking up at him, you steeled yourself. “I know we don’t get to determine the fighting order, or who we fight, but I would like to fight Peter. Now,” you said, sure to keep your voice level and maintain eye contact with the leader. 

He raised an eyebrow at you curiously, and thankfully, Peter had stopped kicking Selene when you started speaking to Eric. Selene scooted to the edge of the mat, but that was as far as she could move without assistance. “You two,” Eric yelled at two initiates, “help Four get this one,” he pointed at Selene, “to the infirmary.” Then he turned back to you. “What are you waiting for, initiate? Get up there.” For a moment you were stunned, you didn’t actually think you would end up fighting Peter, and you knew that both Eric and Peter were expecting you to lose quickly. You caught Four’s eye as he carried Selene out with the help of two initiates, and you looked around to see Christina, Tris, Will, Al, Edward, Molly, and a few other initiates staring at you like you were mad. Maybe you were, but it was too late to back out now. You stood in a low, sturdy fighting stance, just like Eric had shown you. Peter did the same. For a moment, the room was dead silent as your eyes locked with his, and then both of you whipped into action. 

Peter went right for the face punch, but you quickly blocked upward and threw a low roundhouse kick at his knee, making him wobble. He recovered quickly, and he quickly used his height to his advantage, moving to grab your shoulder and slam you into the ground. You were smart though, and you let him move you slightly before turning the downwards motion into momentum that allowed you to do a somersault, twisting his arm and landing on your feet. As he was turning around to face you, you sent a snap kick right to the back of his knee, making it buckle. You moved quickly to his other side, ready to send a few punches to his face and knock him out, but he sprung forward, wrapping strong hands around your neck and squeezing. For a moment you panicked, hitting his arms, but they didn’t move. Everyone was sure that was it for you, but you had another trick up your sleeve--Peter was overly confident this would weaken you and in the process of squeezing, he had left his own body defenseless. So you kicked him in the groin. Hard. He called out and released you, and as he leaned over in an instinctual reaction to pain, you kicked his forehead with your knee, shoved him to the side, knocking him over, and kicked him again, this time in the solar plexus. You stood there, stone-faced, and when Peter didn’t make a move to fight back, you turned to Eric, who nodded, and you jumped down from the mat. 

You landed next to Will, Tris, and Christina, all of whom were staring at you in a mixture of horror and admiration. You blushed in embarrassment and looked at the ground, thinking to yourself, What the hell did I just do? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize the next two initiates were on the mat and fighting, and you only came back to yourself when Eric yyelled, “Hey! Are you deaf, initiate? I said go grab some ice for your neck, I don’t want to hear complaints about it tomorrow!” 

You nodded to your friends and said “I’ll be back in a minute,” shocked at how hoarse your voice was. “Just going to… yeah,” you trailed off before walking quickly towards the infirmary. 

A/N: can you tell I love writing fight scenes? also I do martial arts and have played sports my whole life, so I love when I get to use my knowledge of anatomy and physiology two write action scenes :)

Tag List: @shykoolaid

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent im #dauntless #erudite #divergent fanfiction #abnegation #amity #candor #tris prior #four divergent #tobias eaton #peter hayes #caleb prior #motherfxking-flannel #motherfxking flannel

[bunny-xoxo]

How They Cuddle

karasuno x reader

warning(s): none ! :)

a/n: some sweet luv for the hq boys :) I’m planning on doing a part for the other fandoms I write for too - aot, bnha, & jjk - as well as the rest of the hq teams/characters - so keep an eye out if you’d like! And as always I love interacting w you guys :) feel free to leave comments/flood my inbox :D!

characters: daichi, asahi, sugawara, nishinoya, tanaka, yamaguchi, tsukishima, kageyama, hinata, yachi, & kiyoko

Daichi

He’s a hugger for sure! If you’re on your phone, or reading, or doing anything before bed he’s snuggling up behind you and resting his head on your shoulder to watch what you’re doing - he’s nosey like that. Anyways, being the big spoon is a very convenient cuddling position for that, and he gets to wrap you up and hold you close <3

Through the night though he slowly scoots down off his pillow in his sleep, so when you wake up his face is nuzzled into the middle of your upper back with his arms still squeezing around your midsection so tight you know you’d have to wake him up to get him to let go 😭 he’s also for sure a light snorer, but it’s ok he makes up for it by being cute or whtv 🙄

Asahi

Another spooner! He’s not particularly bias to being the big or little spoon but he just can’t face you 😭

There’s a few reasons: 1) it makes him freak out and it’s like he can feel your eyes on him even if they’re closed. He’ll be constantly peeking one eye open to look at your face and he’s half scared he’s gonna open them and you’re gonna be staring at him like 👁👁 LMAO

2) the breath on his face tickles too much and will eventually start to irritate him and he gets pouty cause it makes it tough to sleep

And 3) what if he’s making a weird face in his sleep and you wake up to see it 😭

So spooning for the win it is

Sugawara

I don’t think he’d be a big fan of being held, it makes him feel too claustrophobic and he’d feel kinda bad moving you off of him if he had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night :( I also think he tosses n turns a bit while sleeping so holding him wouldn’t be the best option anyways, however!

He likes touching/lightly intertwining legs - one reason is because you can kind of get away with it from any angle but still find a comfortable position that suits you, the other reason is because his feet get cold in the middle of the night and this is the easiest way to steal your warmth

Nishinoya

Ok ok, so I know it’s cliche - but I do think he’s a teensy bit too excited for bedtime cuddles! Not in a restless way, he’s just too excited with the act of actually cuddling you, like every time. Day cuddles are different! When the two of you have some alone time and he’s snuggled up with you on the couch, leaving a bunch of kisses (his favorite are Eskimo kisses), periodically grabbing your face so your lips pucker and leaving a dramatic kiss there after he talks about how cute you are (“oh my god you’re so adorable I could crush you ☹️🥺”), and then squeezing you so tight sometimes your back even cracks, it’s fine! You’re not trying to sleep so it’s just sweet Noya doting on you - but you can see how this would be a problem when y’all are tryna get some shut eye 😭

Solution: back to back, but touching so you can still feel each other’s closeness <3, bonus: every time Noya becomes aware your guys’ butts are touching he giggles and wiggles a little until you remind him it’s time to sleep 😭

Tanaka

Ok but he needs to have a hand on your ass and not even in a sexual way 😪🤚🏼 he just grabs on naturally or rests his hand there and sometimes lovingly pats it when he kisses your cheek before either going back to falling asleep or being on his phone or smth :)

He also loves burying his face in your neck, it just feels so soothing to him and he also finds your smell so relaxing and makes him feel all warm inside! Like when he sees you after a long day he loves wrapping you up in a big hug and leaving kisses in the crook of your neck and burying his face there cause he just missed you sm <3

Yamaguchi

Very much like Hinata he also adores being intertwined with you!! He finds it particularly comforting with your face buried in his chest or neck while he has his legs wrapped up with yours. He thinks it’s the best position to lean down and press a kiss to the top of your head (his favorite kind of sweet kiss), which he always does right before he feels himself drifting off to sleep.

He also likes rubbing your back/neck this way until you fall asleep, or while you talk about anything you wanna talk about. Waking up this way is also his favorite, and if you guys have moved in your sleep, you bet he’s pulling you back into a hug. He periodically squeezes you in his arms, leaves feather light kisses to your shoulder, runs his hands up and down your back, sure you probably won’t be asleep for much longer now with all this movement, but he just can’t help it with how sweet you look sleeping! Don’t worry though he’ll keep up the soothing while you wake up and talk about your dreams and what you want for breakfast :)!

Tsukishima

Not much of a cuddly guy throughout the day but when bedtime rolls around you bet your ass he’s expecting some kind of physical affection. His favorite is when he lays on his back with his arm out so you can nuzzle into his side, and once you’re all comfortable he wraps said arm around you to pull you in close.

Your favorite is when he runs his hand up and down your side or draws little designs with his fingers on any exposed skin. His favorite is when you bring your face up to rest in the crook of his neck or rest your head on his chest, any light kisses you leave or the breath that puffs out of you and hits his neck every now and then never fails to give him goosebumps and make him blush.

Kageyama

I don’t think he’s particularly ~stiff cuddling with you but I definitely think it’s not his forte when it comes to bed time! He just finds a comfortable spot - usually on his side or back - and that’s that! He’s found it and is gonna be out in approximately 2 minutes, but he does love feeling you in bed next to him :(

A good compromise he’s decided is reaching his hand out next to him him so he can hold onto your hand while he sleeps, or being the little spoon! It actually feels super comforting to him to feel you all cuddled up to his back and keeping him warm no matter if you’re bigger or smaller than him <3 he also loves the way he has to pry your arms off of him when he has to get up in those early mornings, or the way he feels your face squish up against his back sometimes, he just loves you.

Hinata

He definitely gets hot in his sleep but he love love loves cuddling with you, so you’ll always start off wrapped up in each other somehow. Usually face to face with your legs intertwined cause he thinks talking to each other about any and everything is a good way to wind down before bed - and I mean anything. Sometimes it’s just him asking you odd questions he’s been thinking about recently before one of you remembers you can google it

But no matter how you two fall asleep at first, you always wake up clinging onto his sprawled out body (probably because he’s kicked the blanket onto the floor and you got chilly in your sleep) or far away from him with all the blanket to yourself as he peacefully snores beside you <3

Yachi

Play with her hair and she’s KNOCKED 100%! She also loves either holding you or being held, but there’s got to be SOME kind of holding going on for her heart to feel full <333

She’s also the queen of surprise hugs from behind once you’ve been together for a fair bit and she feels more comfy being publicly affectionate with you! And if you do the same to her it never fails to make her smile or cover her face cause she’s blushing from surprise

“(Y/n)!! You startled me!” And now you have a very excited & giggly gf 😽😽

Kiyoko

I personally see her as a pretty religious back sleeper so the most ideal position is you in her side or you laying between her legs while she holds you and your head is resting on her chest. PERSONALLY she prefers the second one but she leaves it up to you <3

She just thinks it’s most ideal how she could reach down and trace her fingers lightly on the side of your face; or play with your hair if she’s able to; or rub your neck, back, and shoulders to ease any stress from your day. She’s a big giver of private affection and thinks it’s so cute when you’re so tuckered out you she wakes up with a little drool on her shirt. Not to mention your weight and warmth is super comforting to her ! And even if she wouldn’t admit it, she likes being able to use not wanting to move and wake you as an excuse to get 5 more minutes of you cuddling with her.

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Ahhhh hehehehe I hope you like and comments and all that jazz are always appreciated!! Big smooches :)

taglist: @plutowrites @sweet-darling91

#hq <3 #queuetie pie #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #daichi x reader #asahi x reader #sugawara x reader #nishinoya x reader #tanaka x reader #yamaguchi x reader #tsukishima x reader #kageyama x reader #hinata x reader #yachi x reader #kiyoko x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #tsukishima headcanons #kageyama hcs

[luxeavenger]

Put Your Trust In Me

Chapter 3: Steve

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Rating: Explicit

Words: 4438

Series Summary: What if I needed to know what happened to Bucky in Wakanda, and I got tired of waiting for Marvel to tell us, so I made it up myself?

Chapter Summary: Steve is back from his mission. He and Bucky discuss when their future looks like.

Warnings: Smut, hand job, anal fingering, anal sex, switch!Bucky, switch!Steve, Nomad Steve, crying, mentions of abuse, mentions of trauma, Bucky has PTSD, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: big props to @samantha-lefay for beta-img this, and providing an endless avalanche of encouragement. she is massively inspiring, and i’m so lucky we’re friends. i love you, bestie 💜

If you like it, please support your creator by giving it a reblog. She loves that shit. <3

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1: Shuri | Chapter 2: Ayo | Ko-fi

His morning chores done, Bucky lies in the soft grass, while his goats frolic around him. He was thinking of taking a swim in the lake beside his hut, but he’s too delighted by the goats to want to get up quite yet.

He’d taken time to name each of the little goofballs yesterday.

The caramel and white spotted girl who gleefully follows him wherever he goes, and always falls asleep on him the moment he sits still, he named Delilah.

The dark brown girl with black spots who chews on everything that doesn’t move out of the way fast enough, and fusses loudly about all the things in the world that she can’t chew on is named Molly.

The light brown girl with the white face who would carry on conversations with him, bleating at Bucky every time the man spoke out loud, he named Penny.

The cream-colored boy with the dusting of tan spots over his pale nose, who headbutts everything in sight—Bucky’s legs, the other goats, straw bales, rocks—he named Steve. The name seemed a natural fit after he’d tried to headbutt his sister and instead ended up in the lake, an alarmed Bucky quickly wading in to rescue him.

Penny bleats for attention and Bucky chuckles and skritches her head between her tiny horns. He watches the clouds while Delilah snoozes against his left side, her head pillowed on his armless shoulder.

He’d decided not to wear his prosthetic for the time being. Shuri was right, it was incredibly comfortable compared to his old one, but he still needed some time to decouple from the soldat, and going without the arm was proving a very efficient way to do just that. The soldat no longer lurked in the recesses of his mind, ready to spring forth given the right cues, but the memories are still there, and the metal arm is a big reminder of his time as Hydra’s pet monster.

Besides, all of the chores on his little farm could easily be taken care of with a single arm.

Ayo visits him everyday, talking and playing with the goats, sometimes for hours. She’s the only person he feels comfortable asking for help if he needs to put his hair up, or knot the blanket he uses to cover his shoulder.

Ayo told him the goats were Shuri’s idea. They’re mini goats, and will never get much bigger than a medium-sized dog. They won’t grow to the large size of the goats he sees at many of the other huts. His rambunctious little goats aren’t meant to be functional workers, or providers of milk and meat.

Shuri had given him therapy goats.

She reasoned they would help him with PTSD he still struggles with daily, and the truth is, after just a few short days with the capricious little cuties, he has bonded with them. They keep him company, and rely on him for their care. He feels valuable, and needed. Wanted. It makes him feel important that they trust him so thoroughly. One interaction at a time, he begins to feel worthy of that trust.

His mama always used to tell him that animals know your true nature, they can always tell what’s in your heart. His goats didn’t see him as a monster, and it made him feel human again.

Penny lets out an irritable bleat, and Bucky sees her brother aggravating her.

“Come on, Steve,” he tuts. “Don’t be mean to your sister.”

“Did you just call that goat Steve?” a deep voice asks.

Bucky looks up, startled that was so preoccupied with his goats he didn’t hear someone walking up on him. The sun is blotted out by Steve Rogers broad shoulders. His amused face looking down at Bucky with affection.

Bucky blinks up at him. “Yeah, well, he’s blonde, cute but kinda dumb, and picks a fight with everything that moves. It just came to me.”

Steve bends down to rub Delilah’s head where she still sleeps against Bucky. The gesture seems to be the cue for the other goats to swarm him, their loud bleating wakes up Delilah, and she joins the ruckus.

Bucky sits up, and Steve holds his hand out to help him up, and for the first time since Shuri woke him from cryo a week ago, he accepts the offered help.

Steve wraps Bucky in a great big hug, and curls his hand around the base of Bucky’s skull to pull him in for a kiss.

It’s their first real kiss in six months, and Steve’s head spins because he’s so caught up in the way Bucky feels against him, he forgets to breathe.

Bucky pulls away, “Jesus Steve. You stink. And that’s saying something because I was just laying on the ground with goats.”

“I know. I came right off the quinjet. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Bucky tugs him toward the lake, “C’mon, let me clean you up.”

He lets Steve help him strip off his clothes before peeling off his tactical gear. They wade into the lake together. Bucky’s suddenly grateful that T’Challa and Shuri had put him in a hut that’s isolated from the others so he has some peace and quiet while he recovers.

It makes it easier to skinny dip with his boyfriend.

They swim out to the middle of the lake, and take turns dipping under the water and helping each other scrub off the accumulated sweat and dirt. Bucky spends extra time admiring Steve’s soft beard, and long, shaggy hair. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Steve this unkempt. He isn’t shy about admitting how much he likes it.

“Do I smell better yet?” Steve grins.

Bucky leans in to kiss him. He wraps his arm around Steve’s neck to plaster their chests together, and Steve guesses that’s as good an answer as any. His hands go to Bucky’s hips, and he hums into the kiss.

“God I missed you, Stevie,” Bucky breaks the kiss to gasp against Steve’s mouth. The three days without him seemed to stretch on for miles. A lot had happened in a very short amount of time, and he missed Steve’s strong and supportive presence.

“Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.”

Bucky’s cock is diamond hard, and he just needs a little friction, so his arm goes around Steve’s waist to pull their hips tighter, groaning a curse when their dicks slip together and he finds Steve just as hard as he is.

Steve grinds their bodies together with a desperate sound. “Fuck, I missed your cock, Buck,” he purrs. His hand dives under the water, and slips between them to circle their dicks. “Miss the way you taste, ‘n the way you fill me up when you fuck me.”

A shudder rolls through them both when Steve jacks a fist over their shafts. Even Steve’s big hand can’t go all the way around them, but it gets the job done. Bucky tangles his hand in Steve’s wet hair, and kisses him hungrily. Teeth nipping at soft lips, tongues greedily sliding together, mouths possessive, hungry, demanding. Their chests heave with panted breaths, as they swallow each other’s moans.

Steve works them harder, his hand jerking them fast, squeezing them just right. Bucky gasps, “Fuck, ‘m gonna come. Don’t stop.”

“‘M not stoppin’, sweetheart . ‘M close too. Need to see you come for me. Shit, do it now.”

They come together with loud groans, bodies squeezed so tight against each other their noses are smashed together and they share each other’s huffed breaths. Their cocks slip against each other like steel covered in silk as they throb and twitch themselves empty in the murky water of the lake.

Sated for the moment, they lean back in the water and float along silently for awhile shoulder-to-shoulder. The cool vibranium plating over Bucky’s shoulder keeps bumping against Steve, and eventually he pauses to take a good look at it. The gold and black metal catches the sunlight, throwing off sparks of light—a million golden diamonds scattering across his vision like stars.

“Shuri did a hell of a job with your arm,” he says, sounding a little awestruck.

“She sure did. The new one is so light. It almost feels like it isn’t even there. And quiet! It’s so quiet I almost forget it isn’t my real arm.” He presses his lips together before saying, “It’s still hard to wear it. Even though it looks different. I’m still wrestling with a lot of the Winter Soldier’s memories, and that damn silver arm shows up in all of them, you know?”

Steve hums his assent, and suddenly rights himself in the water with a splash. “Did it work, Buck?” It’s the question he’s been dying to ask ever since his boot touched Wakandan soil this afternoon. There’s no need to specify what it is.

Bucky rights himself now too. “It did. Steve, they can’t control me anymore. They don’t work anymore.” He taps his temple, “For the first time in forever I’m all alone in here. It’s just me now.” Suddenly there's a lump in his throat, and his voice breaks when he repeats himself, “They don’t work anymore.”

Unbidden, a sob tears its way out of his chest. Steve pulls him close, and Bucky buries his head against Steve’s neck, and lets loose the emotions he’s been carefully holding back ever since Ayo told him he was free.

Steve soothes him gently, tells Bucky he’s there for him, no matter what happens. But he’s in no hurry to end Bucky’s tears. The man had been through hell: brainwashed, turned into a weapon, controlled by monsters, and abused in ways he still couldn’t talk about—not even with Steve. So Steve would float here in this big, beautiful lake in Africa, and let Bucky unburden the weight on his soul for as long as it took to bring him some measure of peace. He needed the man he loved to know he’d never have to be lost inside himself again. He’d never have to be anyone other than Bucky. He’d never have to be alone. That Steve would march right into hell and punch the devil himself in the face just to save Bucky from the flames.

Because, even though Steve Rogers would break himself in half to save the world, he’d burn this whole fucking planet to ash just to save Bucky.

Finally tears give way to sniffles. Those give way to a soft apology mumbled against Steve’s throat. Tears have turned Bucky’s beautiful eyes a shade of blue so impossible it’s only written about in fairy tales. With an adoring smile, Steve refuses the offered remorse. Instead, he opts to baptize Bucky in forgiveness, love, and devotion, washing all traces of sorrow and regret off his beloved’s forlorn face with gentle kisses, and the warm water of the lake.

Bucky kisses him, wrapping his arm and legs around Steve’s sturdy torso. They slowly melt into each other, letting the lazy ripples of the water lap against their bodies and steer them wherever it may. But slowly the kiss becomes more heated.

Steve’s hands trace down Bucky’s spine to cup his ass cheeks, drawing out a wanton moan. “Stevie,” he asks, his voice soft against Steve’s lips, “will you fuck me? I need you.”

“Of course, sweetheart, but let's go back to our clothes. I’ve got lube in my gear.”

“Okay. But I’m staying right where I am,” indicating that he had every intention of remaining wrapped around Steve’s torso by tightening his arm around Steve’s chest, and nosing against Steve’s neck, “so you best start paddling, punk. Day’s a wastin’.”

Steve can easily swim for both of them, but in the handful of minutes it takes for him to get them back to shore their desperation for each other ratchets up so fast that, by the time Steve steps foot on dry land he’s hard enough to pound nails, and Bucky’s grinding against his hip and sucking hickies into his neck. Suddenly Steve’s painfully aware that it’s been six months since he’d fucked anything but his hand.

As soon as the bottle of lube is out of Steve’s gear, Bucky’s pushing him down into the grass, and impatiently motioning for Steve to squirt some into his outstretched palm. He does, and he’s trying to tell Bucky to slow down, but before he can even put the words together in his brain, Bucky’s already smeared the cool jelly over Steve’s cock, and is sinking down onto it with a relieved curse.

Which pretty much chases every coherent thought Steve’s ever had in his entire life right out of his head.

It has been so long since he’d felt Bucky’s familiar heat surrounding him, the exquisite tightness of Bucky’s hole stroking him, Bucky’s thick thighs working under his hands. Fuck, it felt like forever ago that he had last watched the man he loved fall apart on his cock like this.

Bucky immediately starts riding him hard and fast, almost as greedy for this as Steve is. Steve’s hands fly to Bucky’s chest, and he gasps, “Whoa. You gotta slow down, Buck. ‘M not gonna last like this.”

It’s been so long, the thought chimes in Steve’s head like a bell. The onslaught of Bucky he’s now faced with it nearly overwhelming in its intensity.

Desperate to get them both off, Bucky huffs, “Me neither. Don’t care. Need to feel you, Stevie, please.”

The last word is dangerously close to a sob. Bucky thanks every deity he’s ever heard of that Steve nods his shaggy head, and lets him chase his bliss.

“Fuck, I love the way you feel inside me, Stevie,” he moans. His hand is splayed over Steve’s broad chest, while Steve’s big hands squeeze bruises over his hips, and help Bucky ride his cock.

“God, you feel amazing.” Steve’s voice is full of gravel, and he groans low in his chest when Bucky’s hips twist just right. “Gonna make me come, Buck.”

“Me too,” Bucky’s voice is rough and strained.

Steve’s growing more frantic by the second, and he’s meeting each of Bucky’s movements, slapping their hips together with his insistent thrusts. He sounds wrecked when he buries himself inside Bucky’s tight heat and comes, his cock twitching and spilling warm wetness in Bucky’s guts. The feeling of Steve’s come spreading inside of him, and Steve’s broken groans are the push Bucky needed to fall over his own edge. His orgasm burns through him, and he’s striping come over Steve’s chest with a shout.

He rolls onto his back, but stays pressed against Steve’s side while they catch their breath. Eventually Steve rolls onto his side to look at Bucky.

“T’Challa and I are trying to get you pardoned,” he says.

“Ayo told me. Well, not that T’Challa was helping, but that you were working on it.”

“T’Challa still feels guilty over what happened between you two—what could’ve happened in Siberia—so he’s trying hard to make amends. The hope is that having the King of Wakanda as a character witness might grease the wheels. It would be a little easier if I weren’t technically a fugitive myself, but you know that shield can occasionally move mountains. Even though I gave it back to Tony.”

Bucky chuckles, “Because it’s not the shield that people respect, Steve. It’s you.”

“Be that as it may, it still holds sway over a lot of people, even though it’s not strapped to my back anymore. There’s still a lot of folks who owe Captain America a solid.”

“I thought you were going on missions though? How can you do that if you’re still a fugitive?”

A sly grin spreads across Steve’s lips, “I am working. Just not as an Avenger. Stark likes to pretend he’s the only hero game in town, but he’s far from it.”

“Well please don’t get yourself arrested,” Bucky snorts a laugh.

Steve twists so he can rest his head against Bucky’s chest. He replies with a chuckle. “What? Are you implying I’m unruly?”

“That is exactly what I’m implying.”

“I’m being careful. I promise,” Steve’s eyes are full of sincerity that helps allay Bucky’s fears.

“King T’Challa said I could stay here as long as I wanted.” Bucky says it with an air of incredulity, as if he’s still not entirely sure he deserves such kindness after everything that has happened.

“Is that what you want,” Steve asks, “to stay here?”

Bucky’s eyes survey Steve’s face, knowing he can’t lie to him. He never could. He presses his lips together and shakes his head no. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it here, but I want to be where you are, Steve. But I know I can’t go stateside. So…” he trails off with a shrug.

“Well, what if where I was wasn’t stateside?”

“You mean…. Here?” Bucky asks. Steve nods. Bucky looks around his yard, and back at Steve, “You’d really want to stay here? I mean, it’s peaceful, and beautiful, and the people are so kind and welcoming. I love it, but it’s a far cry from the luxury of the Avengers compound. There’s lots of chores to do, there’s no electricity or wifi unless you go into the city, and the roommates can get a bit rowdy,” he hikes a thumb in the direction of a straw bale where all four goats are sleeping peacefully in the warm sun.

“A: I love chores. B: I already love your roommates—that Steve fella sounds awesome–” Bucky snorts a laugh at that, “and C: the electricity and wifi thing may be an issue, but I’ve been discussing some options with Shuri, and I’m pretty sure I can work around it.”

“Does that mean you’ll still be going on missions and stuff?”

“Only if it’s okay with you,” Steve says softly. “If you want me to stop, I will, without question.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m not the only person in the world that needs Steve Rogers. And no one can keep them safe the way you can. Just as long as you come home to me when you can.”

Steve’s eyes shine with happiness, “Sweetheart, trust me when I say every single moment I’m not on a mission–I’ll be right here with you. And the kids.”

“Did you just make a baby goat pun?”

“I did, and I’m proud of it.”

“You know what? I’m having second thoughts about all of this,” he struggles to sit up, and Steve laughs and wrestles him down again.

“You know you love it,” Steve laughs.

“Damnit, I do,” Bucky grumbles.

The smile slips off Steve’s face. With deep sincerity he asks, “You know I’d put you above everyone else, right?”

“I do,” Bucky answers quickly, “but you know I’d never ask you to. Right?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. I do, Buck.” He lets his fingers skate lightly over Bucky’s body. Outlining all of the dips and valleys where skin is pulled tight over hard ridges of muscle; the soft curves that pad his stomach, hips, and thighs; the freckles scattered over his skin like stars.

Steve doesn’t shy away from the scars either. There’s the scars he remembers from when they were rowdy little boys much smaller than they are now. Then the scars Bucky gained when they were brave men much younger than they are now. And the scars Bucky received over the decades as the Winter Soldier. After Steve had locked himself away under an ocean of ice, his aching heart still unbearably full of the fresh pain of losing Bucky.

Steve pays particular attention to the saddle-shaped line of scars that drape around Bucky’s shoulder, where Hydra marked up their brand new monster seventy years ago.

Bucky shudders as Steve’s finger skates around the edge of the metal plating.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asks softly.

Bucky shakes his head. “Never,” he whispers, and drags their mouths together with a hand cupped against Steve’s cheek.

Steve kicks a leg over Bucky’s hips to straddle him. Once again Steve’s shoulders blot out the sun, casting a bright halo around him, outlining his silhouette in brilliant golden shards of late afternoon sunlight. His wide shoulders taper down to a narrow waist, his beautiful face coming back into focus when he bends to kiss Bucky. Steve is America’s golden boy. He’s also a textbook example of the golden ratio. More important than any of that—he’s the burnished gold center of Bucky’s lovestruck heart.

“I love you so much,” Bucky sighs.

His hand slips over Steve’s chest, slowly tracing down his pale, freckle-dusted skin. He runs the pads of his fingers over Steve’s Adonis belt to circle his heavy cock. Steve blows out a shaky breath when Bucky’s tight fist leisurely drags over his shaft. He noses along Bucky’s scruffy jaw, his huffed breaths tickling over Bucky’s neck.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” Steve moans, “that feels so fucking good.”

Bucky teases Steve by nipping along his throat, “Does it now?”

A blurt of precome spills over Bucky’s knuckles, and Steve gasps, “Fuck yes.”

“Well, why don’t you scoot up here a little, and let me suck your cock?” Bucky smirks as another wet drizzle drips from Steve’s slit, and slides over his fingers.

Steve shakes his head with a whine. He’d love to have Bucky’s mouth wrapped around his dick, but right now he wants something else. “Need you inside me, Buck.” He gently pulls Bucky’s hand off his cock, and pushes it back behind his balls.

Bucky’s fingertips graze over Steve’s hole and Steve makes a strangled sound. Bucky curses softly. “Baby, where’s the-” He’s about to ask where the lube went, but Steve’s already got the bottle in hand, open and ready to coat Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky presses a slick fingertip over Steve’s asshole. He pushes it in, and Steve immediately groans, “More. Another. Please.” Bucky obliges him by slipping a second finger past his rim. A loud rumble bubbles up out of Steve’s chest, followed by a moan of approval.

“Fuck,” Bucky swears softly, “you’re so tight baby.”

Steve sobs quietly, “I missed you so much.”

“Shh. I know, baby. I’m here now,” Bucky reassures him with a kiss, swallowing the needy sounds Steve makes when Bucky starts fucking him with his fingers. “Not going anywhere,” Bucky whispers.

Steve nods against Bucky’s neck, and presses his overheated forehead against the cool vibranium plating of Bucky’s shoulder. “Stevie?” The whispered word next to his ear makes Steve realize he’d gotten completely lost in the sensations. “You okay, baby? Did I hurt you?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” he reassures Bucky. “I’m ready, please. Want your cock.”

He whines softly when Bucky takes his fingers back, but it turns into a sound of pure unadulterated lust when the head of Bucky’s cock presses against his hole. Steve rocks back against it, a grateful groan rumbles out of him when the tip breaches his rim.

Bucky’s hips impatiently meet him halfway, but Steve is greedy. “Jesus, Buck, please,” Steve sounds wrecked when he begs Bucky to fuck him.

With a strong hand steadying Steve’s trembling body, Bucky gives him what he wants. “Baby, fuck,” Bucky swears through clenched teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” He growls a curse when Steve’s hole clenches around him at the praise.

“You too, Buck,” Steve gasps, twitching out more precome over Bucky’s abs.

“Get your hand on your cock, baby,” Bucky purrs, and Steve eagerly obliges, jerking himself with a tight fist, in time with the push-pull drag of Bucky’s cock in his ass.

One thrust at a time, Steve breaks down. Pretty soon he’s rocking himself over Bucky’s dick, begging to come. Bucky quietly shushes him, then tilts his hips just right, and after a few more strokes Steve’s body goes rigid while he spills ropes of come across Bucky’s chest and abs.

“Shit, Stevie,” Bucky grunts, “you feel so fucking good.”

“So do you. You gonna come for me?” he groans.

“Yeah, fuck. I am,” Bucky rumbles. He fucks up into Steve harder, and Steve’s hands fly to Bucky’s shoulders, sun-warmed skin under one palm, chilly Wakandan vibranium under the other.

“Please, Bucky. Need to feel you.”

Then with a last hard push of his hips, warmth blooms in Steve’s guts as Bucky gives him what he asked for.

Once their breathing evens out Steve rolls over, molding himself to Bucky’s side, and propping his head up in his hand.

“When do you have to leave again?” Bucky squints at the fading sun, trying to hide the hope in his eyes from Steve.

Steve doesn’t need to see Bucky’s face to know what he’ll find there. Steve shakes his head. “I don’t. Not for awhile anyway. Told Fury I was going to take some time off. A month, maybe two. I’m gonna get us both settled here. Make up for lost time, you know.”

Bucky’s heart is a fragile thing, rapture at Steve’s words making it flutter frantically in his chest like a caged bird. “Really?” His eyes are blue and as pure as the sky after a summer storm when he looks at Steve. “You know you don’t have to? I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” His eyes drift over Bucky’s yard. “But I need a break. I haven’t stopped moving for six months. If I stood still for too long I just wanted to come back to Wakanda and wake you up. And that wasn’t what you wanted. So I distracted myself with work. I haven’t slept for more than a three hour stretch since I had to leave you behind.”

Bucky wants to say he’s sorry. He wants to say thank you. He wants to fuss at Steve for spreading himself so thin. What he says instead is, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck. I’m so glad you’re back.”

Soft bleating behind Steve signals that the goats are waking from their afternoon nap. There’s a soft rumble of tiny hooves, then Steve’s shoulder jerks forward suddenly, and he makes a surprised noise.

“I bet I know what just happened,” Bucky says with a grin.

Steve rolls over and retrieves little goat Steve from behind him. He scolds Bucky, “You hush your mouth, I won’t have you saying one bad word about my son. He can headbutt his daddy all he wants.” He hugs baby Steve, and sets the little goat down between them, and the wild little boy immediately headbutts human Steve in the chin with an excited bleat.

The three girls dash over to check on Bucky when he laughs so hard he chokes.

If you liked it, please smash that reblog button so others can find it too!

#bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #stucky #stucky smut #stevebucky #stevebucky smut #winter soldier #winter soldier smut #soldat #soldat smut #captain america #captain america smut #nomad steve #nomad steve smut

[taechaos]

Web of Lies

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying.

warnings: angst, panic attack, dry humping, the TINIEST bit of fluff

word count: 4.3k

Obstacles are inevitable in relationships; there’s always something that must go wrong. They can come in the form of arguments, disagreements, actions, or people like Taehyung. One physical obstacle that always knows when Jungkook is with you.

A few days after the fight between the two close friends, Taehyung’s nose somewhat healed and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from you as frequently. What’s the point when the people he tried to hide you from found out about his relationship with you anyway? The only reason he doesn’t approach you every time he sees you is because: 1. He doesn’t enjoy being clingy; that would mean he likes being around you all the time which he refuses to admit. 2. You would probably get tired of him and stop loving him. 3. He kissed your friend who always sits next to you outside.

Now that he’s taking most of his opportunities to talk to you, and maybe kiss you, Taehyung is growing restless. Every time Jungkook is with you, so is Taehyung. Some. Fucking. How.

To name one of the busts: when Jungkook was kissing you in the university’s hallway two days ago, Taehyung popped in out of nowhere and shouted, “Get a room, you sluts!” It made for a good laugh between the students, especially when Jungkook ran after him out of the building. 

Another time is when Jungkook was watching you work in the yard and Taehyung joined you two to ask about that “one hot friend of yours”. You ended up telling him about Soyeon and Minnie while Jungkook glared at Taehyung that conveyed a clear message: Don’t. So, he didn’t. It didn’t have anything to do with getting elbowed when you weren’t looking.

It was because that would ruin the fun, and he has a sense of purpose while roaming the entire campus to make his fourth bust of the week. He’s searched the hot and empty spots, but he just can’t find the passionate couple anywhere. If he can’t keep disrupting their displays of affection, how will Jungkook get annoyed enough to spill the truth to you? You deserve that much, and if you still accept him, then Taehyung’s out of the picture.

Why can’t Jungkook see that?

For starters, one of the reasons is Jungkook is distracted and growing very irritated by the heavy stare he feels digging into his skin. Who the fuck is watching him? He thought it would be nice to keep you company in the main campus library by controlling your hand under the table over his clothed erection while you skim through your textbook for a light revision, but a pair of eyes behind a bookshelf won’t stop glaring into his soul through thick frames that he can’t see. 

He blows out a breath and screws his eyes shut. His jaw clenches and you immediately catch on, worriedly asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s fucking watching me and I can’t get off,” he grits. Your cheeks heat and grow crimson when you glance down at your occupied hand, palmed by his bigger one in a tight grip. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “we can go to my dorm, if you’d like? Whatever you want.” In an act of comfort, you stupidly start caressing his length until he stands up. 

“Gotta confront the fucker.” 

Right when he raises his foot to take a step in the direction that his senses lead him to, Taehyung joins in on the mission. “Who are we confronting?” he asks casually with an arm over Soyeon’s shoulder, who is trying to suppress a grimace at the intervention. Jungkook glances at him and then your friend before sucking his teeth and rolling his eyes.

You grin brightly at the greeting and explain, “Someone's watching him. He’s going to find the stalker.”

“Might’ve been me, oops,” Taehyung raises his brows guiltily before slumping on a wooden chair adjacent to you, looking around the spacious area that makes him feel too loud. When he notices Soyeon still standing, he tells her, “come, sit,” and pats the seat next to him. She does so timidly. “Isn’t it so wonderful—”

“Why are you here?” Jungkook interrupts, but Taehyung continues, “—that we’re forming a friend group of our own? We’re all so familiar with each other.”

“Oh, Soyeon hasn’t met Jungkook yet.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you with a scrunch of his nose. “Sure about that?” Jungkook strides behind his chair and starts massaging his shoulders; a very harsh massage that has him holding back a wince. “Oh, Kook, that’s a bit rough. Tell me, is he like this in bed too?”

You gape at him in surprise, bashful because your lover doesn’t kiss and tell, and he doesn’t look too happy about it either.

“Tae…” Jungkook snarls.

“Well, is he, Soyeon?”

The library’s silence graces your table as everyone falls quiet, if you don’t count Taehyung’s groans at Jungkook’s bruising hold that is. Soyeon’s jaw drops and her eyes widen at the sudden switch in your gaze, searching for answers from her. “That’s not funny, Taehyung,” she breaks the silence with her blunt statement.

“Don’t mind him, baby, he has brain damage,” Jungkook spits and brings a hand up to Taehyung’s hair to yank it back. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he whispers in his ear.

Your features begin to soften from its hard expression until Taehyung smiles wickedly at you. “Oh yeah, it wasn’t sex, was it? It was a tongue battle-” His voice cuts off the moment Jungkook starts choking him with his elbow, and his gags fall on deaf ears. Soyeon tries to push him off, but you’re just blank because Jungkook isn’t denying it; it was as if he was expecting it, trying to stop him all along. 

The sudden interest in your friend, the constant interruptions, the hits…

“Soyeon?” you call quietly with welling up tears. “Did you kiss him?”

Your best friend doesn’t lie, and apparently neither does Taehyung. Does Jungkook lie? You’re conflicted between living in bliss, ignoring the dying man in front of you because your boyfriend might have kissed Soyeon, and facing reality by asking the hard questions.

Her hands are still tugging on his shirt to save Taehyung, but her persistence weakens when she looks at you: guilty and… exposed? “I didn’t know it was him,” she confesses. It is indirect, and doesn’t reveal much except that she kissed the one man she wasn’t supposed to. 

“When?”

“The party,” Taehyung wheezes as he struggles against Jungkook’s arm, his nails drawing blood on his skin. His face is red from the lack of oxygen but he isn’t worried about dying.

“Oh, he put you up to this, didn’t he?” Jungkook speaks through clenched teeth to Soyeon. “They’re setting me up, and who the fuck is watching me?!” 

You stand up slowly and close your textbook with a soft thud, packing your materials so graciously. Your hands are shaking, but the tears blurring your vision don’t matter to you. Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. You sling your bag over your shoulder and trudge to the exit, counting your steps to calm down. You ignore Jungkook asking you where you’re going, Taehyung gasping for breath, and Soyeon telling him to leave you alone. It’s all muffled and you’re too sad to care.

It’s a case of he said she said, but your heart is siding with your friends with how painfully it pounds against your chest. Your trust in Jungkook couldn’t have been that fragile, could it? Why did it break with one sentence? 

Heavy footfalls follow you beyond the exit, but you’re too distracted by trying to move your legs steadily to notice. It isn’t important enough to distract you from someone calling your name though, or the light weight of a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hm?” you say without looking up, frozen in your steps.

“A-Are you okay?” A smooth voice asks.

“I’m a bit sad,” your voice cracks and wavers from holding back a meltdown, “hurt.” You want to recognize the blurred image of the man standing next to you, so you blink and a tear sheds from each eye. “I told you to never talk to me again, Jimin.” You feel overwhelmed, and yet the memory of the blackmail has little impact on your mess of emotions, but it doesn't help you feel better either.

“Sorry,” he breathes, “I still don’t understand why, but you can do the talking for me. Wh-what happened?”

“Why do you ask? So you can use that against me too?” you scoff through the lump in your throat. Confusion washes his soft features, so you add, “maybe another handjob for it?” You shrug off his hand and continue your walk of shame. 

“I-I’ve never used anything against you, what are you talking about?” He’s chasing after you and it’s a bit of help in swaying your thoughts in a different direction, and your emotions towards anger and disbelief instead.

“Does a video ring a bell? The one you threatened to leak if I didn’t touch your…” You groan to yourself and quicken your pace towards your dorm. Maybe you could mope comfortably in there without the annoying presence of an arch enemy, who is feeding you more lies than you’re capable of consuming in one day. 

“What? I never— Listen, I deleted that video the second I received it. Whoever told you that was lying, please!”

It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying. His love was a lie too, apparently. Maybe the Jungkook you know is just one big fat lie who can’t seem to tell you the truth in any moment you’ve been with him. How many times do you need to hear from others and yourself that Jungkook is lying?

“I know,” you whimper and run off.

Once Taehyung catches his breath after coughing for a minute straight with a fresh bruise blossoming on his neck, he interrupts the hushed argument between Jungkook and Soyeon by asking, “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know, but you’re going straight to hell once I fucking kill you for good,” Jungkook fumes with flushed cheeks. 

“If you die by murder, you go straight to Heaven. How do you not know this?” His voice is low from the assault and his throat aches, but he still attempts to lighten the mood. 

“I swear to fucking God, Taehyung—” Jungkook stops his threat when he sees Soyeon sneakily walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Air,” Soyeon vaguely answers.

“Bullshit.” Jungkook tries to go after her, wanting to be the first to find your dorm so she doesn't say more about that night, but Taehyung holds onto his wrist to stop him. 

“She needs time—”

“Fuck off.”

When Jungkook begins to walk off after yanking off his hand, Taehyung immediately searches around the room and takes out a pen from a cup on the reception desk before jumping Jungkook from behind just as he was about to leave. They struggle against each other and start rolling around, but Taehyung is driven by adrenaline as he grounds himself on top of him. He holds him down with his legs and uncaps the pen to start writing on his forehead.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Everyone in the library peeks at the commotion due to Jungkook’s loud yell, but neither of them pay mind as he tries to move away from the pen.

“See if she takes you seriously with dick written on your forehead,” Taehyung chuckles before sprinting off with him hot on his tail. Jungkook is stronger, but Taehyung is much faster as he loses him pretty quickly by hiding in an occupied lecture hall. The professor looks at him questioningly but he thinks fast and breathlessly asks the students, “Is Jeon Jungkook here? The headmaster is looking for him.” Some people search for him, but when no one makes a peep, he escapes the room and Jungkook’s wrath.

Now to go to your dorm before Jungkook scrubs off the ink…

“I didn’t know his name,” Soyeon murmurs while fidgeting with her fingers. When she came in the room, you were muffling your sobs with your pillow and all she saw was your jerking shoulders. She tried to comfort you, to hug you, but you weren’t exactly being friendly, and the setting is pretty much the same except she’s sitting on your bed while you still cry. “I asked people what he looked like, but it was just a description of every guy in the room. He wasn’t around for them to point at, and so I thought maybe he didn’t come. Then this guy kisses me on this couch, feels guilty about it, and tells me his name. I-I didn’t know it was Jungkook. He left for you anyway…”

Her attempt at consolation is fruitless because it only makes you cry harder. She rubs your back soothingly before standing up. “I’ll check up on you later. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod against your stained pillow. 

The moment she opens the door, Taehyung’s fist misses her head by an inch. “Oops,” he says before gently pushing her aside by her shoulder and entering. His eyes fall on your fetal position first thing and he pouts at you. “Aw, baby—”

“She doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“I’m good company,” he dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, “you can go.”

She rolls her eyes before shutting the door, and it’s only you and him now. Your hiccups fill the room as he sadly watches you, a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. “I tried to tell you. Well, I tried to get him to tell you.”

“Y-You said,” you snivel against the sheet, “th-that he was whipped for me.”

I said that to get you to open up. Even in his head it sounds cruel, so he rethinks his response with a grimace. “Jungkook told me he liked you.” Maybe shifting the blame wasn’t exactly much better, especially since he told him that after the claim, but you have enough on your plate.

“H-He told me he loved me,” you hiccup, releasing your death grip on the poor pillow. It’s a mask rather than a silencer now. Taehyung widens his eyes to himself and purses his lips. He takes Soyeon’s former seat and turns you on your back. His heart sinks a little when he sees your face: red nose, heavy lids, bloodshot eyes and quivering lips with messy hair. You look really pretty to him right now. “He lies so much. H-He even made me give Jimin a handjob.”

“Made you?” he repeats with his thumb drawing circular patterns on your collarbone. 

You nod. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to talk about it. It was horrible.”

His brows furrow at your tone. “That’s so fucked up... Man, you need to avoid him.”

“Jimin?”

“Jungkook. That’s too twisted, even for him. You’re an angel…” his palm reaches for your cheek and his thumb continues its soothing motions. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you mouth and fresh tears brim as you try to swallow. It feels like you’re sick all over again, except there’s no misunderstanding to clear this time. He wipes a stray teardrop and smiles down at you; it’s a relaxing gesture. You close your eyes and hold onto his wrist, snuggling into his warm hand.

“I sound really cheesy, don’t I?” he chuckles. “Can’t lie, wish I had someone call me an angel after I caught my ex cheating on me.”

An involuntary giggle erupts from your mouth at his joke. “You’re an angel, Taehyung. An angel in disguise.” You peek at him before fluttering your eyes shut again. A pursed smile graces his lips, and he’s convinced he isn’t interested in you romantically, that it was just an invisible force drawing him closer to you, that he wasn’t the one aiming for your lips until a pound on the door resounds in the room.

You flinch away from his hand and he pulls back instantly; both of your heads shoot to the source of the noise. 

“Open up!” Jungkook yells and continues fisting the door. “Open the fucking door!” Taehyung holds a finger against his lips, signalling you to stay silent until he leaves. “I want to talk. Open the door… please.” Neither of you say anything.

“Fine,” he agrees, “don’t talk. I’ll talk, but at least give me a sign that you’re here.” Before Taehyung can stop you, you rush to the door and knock once. You hear him slide down the door, presumably leaning his back against it and sitting on the floor. “Okay. I’m sor— They were lying—” you slam your fist against the door in denial. “Okay! But they weren’t telling the whole truth back there. I was um… on drugs. I was really fucking high, okay?”

“Yet your high-self still managed to yell at me! Clearly you weren’t high out of your mind,” you snap menacingly. He flinches at your sudden shut-down; he’s never heard you yell at him before, nor has he ever been the victim of your anger. It makes his heart drop.

“That was like, three hours after I got high! I was practically sober, plus, you weren’t talking to me that day!”

“I had lost my voice! I didn’t want you to get sick—"

“I DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW THAT!” 

He gulps at your silence and inhales a deep breath to calm down. He hears you sniffle on the other side. “I-I didn’t know that. You wouldn’t kiss me, wouldn’t talk to me, and I didn’t know why. I thought you stopped loving me and… that really upset me.” He sighs to himself because he’s never opened up so honestly and it’s difficult, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. It just feels so embarrassing.

Taehyung opens the window of your dorm and climbs out. You don’t see or hear it happen, too invested in your argument to even remember his existence. “Do you remember what I told you the night we did it for the first time?”

His face scrunches as he tries to replay the events beside the sex. The corner of his lip tugs upwards when he recalls you calling him a slut, but he’s still clueless as to why you’re bringing it up. You don’t leave him in the dark for long. “I told you I wouldn’t forgive you a second time.” He gnaws on his lip as his palms feel clammy with nervous sweat. 

“W-We weren’t dating then,” he tries to justify. “I didn’t need forgiveness then. You’re so unfair!” He stands up and knocks with his fist again. “Let’s talk it out face to face, I’ll explain everything. You’re putting me at a disadvantage! Don’t you want clarity? Don’t you want this to work out?!” He starts chanting your name when you don’t answer. “I will break down this fucking door if you don’t open it,” he doesn’t sound nearly as intimidating as he usually does when threatening; he sounds more like he’s a second away from breaking down himself. “No, no… please. I-I’ll kiss another girl if you break up with me! You don’t want that, right? So just open the door.” 

His tough façade crumbles the longer you ignore him, and he can’t believe the heavy weight he feels all over his body wants to leave in the form of tears. It stings in his eyes but he doesn’t dare let them fall. “You’re so fucking cruel!” He twists the door handle violently; desperately. A dry sob escapes him as he kicks the door one last time. “Oh God, oh God…” he tries to breathe but it doesn’t enter his lungs. It’s like being choked with a noose as he gasps and a tear runs down his cheek. His wheezes become so loud that you start hearing them and grow concerned.

You consider the possibility that it’s one of his tactics, trying to manipulate you, but you open the door anyway. It’s a slight crack and you barely get a look at him before he pushes it open completely and forces his way in. He sits on your bed and his shoulders hunch, breaths still shallow. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t like her, never did, I only— I was mad, and I couldn’t go through with it, and I’ve never shown you affection b-because I’ve only ever received it from you—” you hush his rambling with a hug, but he continues with his head against your stomach anyway, “I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m a fucking mess and I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me, but please don’t leave me. I’ll do my homework, I’ll stop being mean, I won’t even talk if you don’t want me to, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“Jungkook…” you trail in shock. “I’m here. Take a deep breath.” When he tries, it’s so shaky that it makes you tear up for the umpteenth time. You’re a mess with him. “In and out, love, in and out.” You would do it with him like an instructor, but it’s not possible when he’s squeezing your waist so tightly. It takes a few minutes for him to relax his grip and he looks up at you pitifully. “It’s okay,” you assure and pet his hair, “you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” he exhales. “I mean… I realized that night, that I only want to be with…”

“I get it,” you whisper to comfort him, knowing he has struggles with expressing himself, but he doesn’t stop. He wants to get it off his chest, and he quietly tells you, “I kissed another girl when I wanted to make you jealous, and then another to forget. I don’t want to do that, I mean I only want to kiss… you.”

You initiate it first by leaning down to peck his lips, and you don’t pull away too far. You peck him again, and then start kissing him. He’s never been this slow with you before, but the panic attack must have drained him. It’s the way that he doesn’t immediately turn it heated with the intent of taking it to the third base that warms your heart. He’s hesitant and taking his time, mindful of your reactions because you’re in control for once. You’re aware of how vulnerable he is being with you, and he conveys that with the gentle press of his lips. 

He whimpers into the kiss, and it’s so quiet and mournful that you lean back but he chases after you. He doesn’t want to stop like you’d assumed, so you place your knees on either side of him and hover over his thighs. Even his hands are hesitant as he lightly sits you down on his lap by pulling your waist. You smile against him and with his submission, you swipe your tongue across his lip. He opens for you. You roll your tongue around his, and he eventually begins to suck on yours. There’s a pit in your stomach that confuses you; is it arousal? Flattery? You feel so special because you know he hasn’t been like this with anyone else; so powerless and passive.

It’s passionate. You inch your body a little closer to him and he grunts when you brush against his crotch before settling down. This isn’t about sexual needs, and you don’t treat it as such but your body has a mind of its own with its constant shuffling that turns him on. He doesn’t want to feel that way, but his hips have a subtle way of thrusting beneath you. His hums rumble and you kiss him harder, losing all your senses except for the warmth of his skin. You don’t notice him controlling the movement of your hips because he’s taking it slow, and you don’t need to know why he’s quietly moaning into you.

At least no one’s watching him now. 

You pull back in surprise when he groans loudly, and you know he’s back to himself as his actions grow rough. You’re practically jumping when he grinds on you with his spit all over your mouth because of his explorative tongue. From past experience, you’ve figured out that Jungkook is more honest when he’s in the heat of the moment, so you inquire against his lips, “Why did you lie to me about Jimin?”

“That fucking freak,” he growls, “I needed a reason to get you to hate him. He didn’t stop you when it happened, did he?” 

Still manipulative. “Will you do the same with Taehyung?”

“No, I,” his thrusts slow down, “I’m gonna, err…” He looks at you for help.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and talk things out with him, right?”

“Right,” he breathes, “talk.” He slams his lips against yours again, and it’s not long before he sighs at his climax with your cooperation. There’s a small patch growing on his pants through his underwear, and he cusses when he notices it. He pecks you one last time before hugging you and laying on the bed, cuddling you like a blanket. “Do you forgive me?” 

You rest your head on his chest and feel his pulse to contemplate. He brings a hand up to your hair and starts running his fingers through it, unbothered by your lack of answer. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “Do you…” he clears his throat, “do you maybe want to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date?” you tease with a grin.

“Yes.”

“There’s my answer,” you lift your head to wink up at him. “But if you test me again, I’ll break your heart just as you did mine. Don’t worry though,” you whisper, “I’ll never leave you.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts #networkbangtan

[mythiccheroacademia]

What You Fight About

part 2

A/N: just something I thought about

Headcanon: what you two would fight about the most

Warnings: toxic behaviors, yelling, cursing, angst

Midoriya Izuku:

his absence

being the number one hero is demanding

it’s also been his dream since he could remember

you understood that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate you when he’d disappear for days at a time

izuku tries to balance his job and home life

but it isn't enough

~~~

You and Izuku don’t fight much. In fact, you never really do. You’re both so compromising that disagreements rarely happen.

But when your kid is involved, that complacency slips away. Even when it comes to one another.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Honey, why won’t you just listen to me?” he begged, but the irritation in his tone gave it more sharpness than he intended. “[S/N] doesn’t need the tutor. It’s just the teacher.”

You began to pick up the leftover toys from floor more so to expel pent up energy rather than to simply clean. You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Excuse me?” Midoriya snipped. His eyes followed you as you discarded the toys and crossed your arms beside the couch, finally giving him your attention. “I think I know my own son, Y/N.”

Izuku cared so much for your child and you knew that. But that underlying message your brain processed within his words pissed you off.

“And you think I don’t?”

“I just don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

An incredulous laugh left your lips before they moved into a frown. “He’s failing 4th grade, Izuku. We can’t move him to a different classroom every time he gets a bad grade. At some point, we have to take responsibility! He needs the extra help!”

“You just don’t understand,” the hero muttered, running a hand through his hair.

What he said shouldn’t have set you off, but it did. Everything suddenly flooded your head. All the stress you had to deal with alone bubbled up your throat and exploded.

“No, you don’t understand!”

“Yes I do!”

“How!? You’re barely in his fucking life anyways!”

It went silent shortly after that.

The outburst felt good, but the aftermath made your squeeze with guilt. Izuku’s frown softened into shock before melting into something deeper than pain.

Once your words finally processed through your head, you immediately tried to take it back.

“Izuku, I didn’t mean that—”

“Yes you did.”

You thickly swallowed and averted your eyes to the floor. He was right. You did. You’d been wanting to say it for so long, but this wasn’t the way you planned to deliver those thoughts.

Your gaze moved back to your husband once he gathered his duffle bag and slid on his shoes.

“Baby,” you sighed, your voice much softer than before. It was almost insane how easily the anger left you. “Where are you going?”

You wilted with his next words. “I’ll stay over at the agency. To give you some space. We’ll talk more after we’ve both cooled down,” he sadly smiled.

Despite the hurt silver-lining his green eyes, Midoriya softly held your chin and kissed your forehead. Something he always did when your disagreements didn’t end on a good note. As if to reassure you that, even though he was upset, he still loved you all the same.

And that just made you feel worse.

“’Zuku—”

“Don’t worry about [S/N]. I’ll take him to school tomorrow.” He paused to look you in your eyes. “I love you, always.”

“I love you too,” you quietly resigned and watched him disappear behind the front door leaving you to let your head fall into your hands.

Bakugo Katsuki

his jealousy

bakugo is confident in many areas of his life

it’s one of his qualities that won you over

but he still had those tiny insecurities that showed up in large ways

aka losing you

and he had no idea how to handle it

~~~

The alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea considering Bakugo was already noticeably pissed on the way to the house party. But everyone assumed it was just another one of his moods he’d get over sooner or later. He wasn’t a drinker, but a beer or two usually loosened him up.

However, your friends looked at each other with worry behind the door to the room you two were in. Despite the party lights and booming stereo, they could hear the angry muffled yelling you two were doing.

You were 100% drunk, but you were 110% sure this man was telling you to stay away from your friend. Your best friend.

“If it’s one thing you have, it’s the audacity,” you sassily quipped.

“I’m not fucking playing around with you, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped with too much bite than you cared to hear. “I want you to stay away from that two-bagged eyed bastard!”

“You always do this! Shinsou’s my friend!”

The redness in his ears wasn’t only from the drinks as his nostrils flared with barely contained irritation. “Friend my ass. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, and that fucker had the nerve to grab you in front of me!”

“He was moving me out of the way!”

“He fucking felt you up is what he did!”

You smacked your teeth, entirely done with the argument. You weren’t getting anywhere. “Now you’re just being delusional.”

Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out in a desperate attempt to calm himself. A feat even he was surprised about considering the situation. He tried so hard to not be as explosive, to reign in his emotions, for you. But his jealousy burned hot within his veins.

“Y/N. I’m asking you, as your man, to put some distance between you and Shinsou,” he lowly warned.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Like hell I will. Hitoshi’s been here longer than you have by years. I’m not gonna drop him just because you feel insecure.”

That withered away any form of self-restraint Katsuki had left. He felt exposed and hurt. And dealt with that the best way he knew how.

His hazy brain clouded over with anger and he went on the defensive.

“I bet you want him.”

“What? No I don’t?”

“You’re probably sleeping with him behind my fucking back,” he dryly laughed. “Am I not good enough anymore? Is that it?”

You were quickly sobering up. “What the fuck is wrong with you!? Of course not! I’m not a cheater!”

“Then why won’t cut him off, damn it!?”

Your voices rose in volumes too high for comfort. The crackle in his palms didn’t scare you one bit, but it was enough for Kirishima and Mina to come in and try to separate you two.

You ignored their pleading and the two of your found each other in the other’s face.

“Why are you so jealous!?”

“BECAUSE HE’S TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!”

“NO HE’S NOT!

“IT’S SO EASY FOR YOU TO DEFEND HIM AND PROBABLY JUST AS EASY FOR YOU TO SPREAD YOUR FUCKING LEGS—"

A resounding slap cut him short. That seemed to snap him out of whatever alcohol induced rage he was in. However, Bakugo only had a moment to register your expression of disgust before Kirishima pulled him away.

“Fuck you, asshole” was the last thing you said before Mina lead into the hallway.

Kirishima watched his friend’s breathing turn ragged with each puff.

“Come on, man. Let’s just—”

“FUCK!” Katsuki roared before throwing a nearby water bottle to the floor. He fisted his hair and clenched his teeth.

He messed up. Big time.

And as upset as he was with himself, he couldn’t help but be even angrier at the thought of who you’d run to first.

Todoroki Shouto:

how blunt he is

he was a bit socially inept and you loved him for that

but sometimes, you get frustrated

todoroki does too because 9 times out of 10 he doesn’t understand why

when you get angry, he completely shuts down bc he doesn’t know how to handle it any other way

and it didn’t help that he was petty asf

~~~

“Okay.”

You looked up and folded your lips in a tight line. It was the same monotone answer he’d been giving you all day and it was getting on your nerves.

“Sho, baby, can you at least try and act like you somewhat care about this vacation we’re planning,” you said as sweetly as possible.

Although you were annoyed, you understood that things flew over your boyfriend’s head sometimes and, hopefully, a little nudge would point him in the right direction.

“I’m listening, prince(ss),” he dimly responded.

He didn’t bother to look up from the papers he was reading at the table and it made you huff. Folding up the magazine, you just stalked your way out of the kitchen.

“You know what? Don’t even bother. I’ll do it myself.”

That made Shouto look up. His brows furrowed in confusion and he caught your hand before you could completely pass by him. Why were you suddenly upset? He told you he was listening.  

“Hey, wait. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked.

You let him pull you in between his legs. He looked genuinely lost and it was enough to soften your exterior.

“I just feel like you don’t care sometimes,” you said, deciding to just be blunt.

“Huh?” he hummed. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know…it just seems like you don’t have an interest in anything I have to say if it doesn’t involve hero work, your family, or something like that.”

Todoroki took offense to that. Of course he cared about what you had to say. He loved you. Just because he wasn’t gripping on to every word you spoke in mundane life didn’t mean he didn’t care.

There were ways to express his thoughts, but Shouto wasn’t always the best at gently doing it.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” he said.

You looked off to the side for a second before looking down at him. “Well that’s how I feel,” you retorted.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.”

You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself. However, he just stared back at you as if there was nothing else left to say. The silence was sickening.

You snatched your hand out his grip. “Okay, Shouto,” you bit and left.

He hadn’t heard his first name in a while.

Your boyfriend dumbly blinked already feeling more lost. He didn’t understand why you were so angry.

He called Midoriya about it and was told he was being intolerant. The entire conversation honestly made him feel like an asshole and Todoroki didn’t like that at all. So he gave you some space before finding you in the kitchen again, this time equipped to right his wrongs—even though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he did.

He called your name once and instead of responding, you just kept going about your task. That sort of miffed him, but he tried again. This time, you hummed back but the tension behind it made him feel defensive for some odd reason.

“Can we talk about this morning?”

“What? Are my feelings suddenly valid to you now?” you sarcastically replied.

Todoroki raised a sharp brow at your attitude and decided he was over it already. Here he was trying to apologize, and you were being difficult. He wouldn’t fight with you over something so insignificant.

“Fine. When you’re done with your little tantrum, we can talk about this like adults.”

You’d never spun around so quickly. “Really, Todoroki?”

Last name basis. Petty.

But he was even pettier.

“Yes, really, [L/N].”

His half-lidded bored stare made your scalp prickle.

“Fine. Me and my little tantrum are gonna go somewhere and you can plan the vacation all by yourself like the adult you are.”

“Fine. I’d probably get it done faster anyways.”

You let out an offended gasp. “Fine!”

“Fine!” he tsked, crossing his arms.

You two looked away from one another and stomped out of the room in childish anger.

#bnha headcanons #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya izuku #katsuki bakugou #todoroki shouto #bnha #mha #bnha bakugo x reader

[mystic-sky]

Summary: Gojo sneaks into your dorm cause he sort of “misses” you. Oh, and Shoko’s there too.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru/reader/Shoko Ieiri

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, NSFW, threesome, cream pie. If you weren’t gay for Shoko before you will be after this.

yeah no one asked me for this lmaooo, but it’s Shoko loving hours✨

Shoko Ieiri is deep in sleep on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half eaten snacks and DVDs. After a girl’s night in, she felt too tired to walk just two doors down to her own room and crawl into her bed. So here she was, inhabiting your extra futon on a school night.

You’re dozing off just 2 hours past midnight. That is, until you heard a few light taps at your window. The sounds peck you out of your light slumber, making you groan and slide downwards underneath the comforter, assuming it’s a tree or a bird. The noise persists further, making you groan an even louder and irritated noise. Finally you sit up, crankily sliding out of bed. You stare at Shoko enviously, who is un-phased by the noise.

You slide the blinds open on the sliding doors, jumping back at the large frame peering back at you. You clutch your chest, before letting out a large heave, unlocking the glass pane door.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” you whisper-yelled.

Satoru leans against the doorway, staring back at you in baggy night clothes. “Yo.”

You’re staring at him with tired eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” You whisper.

“I missed you,” his hand reaches the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead before casually brushing past you.

This was normal, you suppose. He’d snuck into the girl’s dorm at the school countless times to sleep with you. You both weren’t dating, only frisky classmates. You did however enjoy the spontaneous pop ups.

“Shoko’s here.” You say simply as he tosses his phone on your desk. “And you should’ve texted me.”

You’re still standing there with the patio door open, thinking he’d leave as soon as he saw her there.

“My bad,” he’s smiling cheekily at you. “And I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to spend the night.”

You sigh and shut the door, realizing he was definitely staying. You pull the blinds shut as he removes his sweatshirt and slides. He lets out a whine as he realizes what Shoko is sleeping on. 

“My futon...” he whines. He’s so bothered by it. He never slept on the thing either; you stole it from him a while back.

You aren’t worried about Shoko waking up in the morning to him in your bed, she’s seen it all before. She can hardly understand your infatuation with Satoru. But, she’s a pro at minding her business. A good friend overall, considering boys are forbidden from being in the girls dorm after hours. 

You ignore him, and brush past his lanky body to climb back into your bed. He follows, squeezing onto it with you. It was barely full sized— somehow still the largest in the girls dorm, resulting in majority of your hook ups to be in your room. Sometimes, Shoko would crawl in bed with you, and sometimes you two would do more than sleep together on school nights.

You’re so tired, so groggy as he snuggles into you. The deepest hum pours into your ear. His strong bare arms are intoxicating, the way they wrap around you like he needs you— but he doesn’t. He typically acts like he doesn’t need anyone actually, so when he clings to you like this it sort of throws you off. But you know he’s just indulging in human touch. It’s not such a serious thing to him. He’s such an airhead. You know he’d never actually go out with you. 

“You and Shoko had all the fun without me...” He whines it, and it’s pretty loud. He doesn’t care if she wakes up. He’s already hard and his length is stabbing your back. 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say simply. His hand slides up your shirt, and his finger tips are cold. They sting the flesh of your breasts, but your body’s so hot you don’t even flinch. “And your hands are freezing.”

One of your nipples harden into the center of his palm and he feels it, using his thumb and index finger to squeeze and pull at the thing.

“Ah, so I made the both of you wait long? I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. You roll your eyes, and he can’t even see you do it but he laughs anyway.

“One day,” he purrs, and the sound is enough to send chills up your spine.

“Like she’d ever sleep with trash like you,” you scoff, turning around and wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Your jealousy is showing.” You finally get to see his toothy grin.

“Hardly,” you roll your eyes again. You don’t allow him to speak any more, pressing your tired lips against his. The movement is groggy— a sleepy lovers kiss of sorts if you’ve ever had one. He’s tired himself, but his ever growing bulge won’t let him rest in his own dorm. 

“A quick fuck, so we can sleep.” Satoru says the words so quickly, but he doesn’t miss your nod. 

“We have a 9AM,” you feel inclined to remind him about your class in the morning. Your hands are trailing up his back, feeling along the muscles.

He hums before sliding down beneath your comforter, disappearing from your side. His finger tips are warmer now, wrapping around the hem of your pants. You realize what’s happening, and shift your body to help him slide them down. His mouth is buried in your sex in seconds, making you grip the blanket above your head to watch him eat it beneath the covers. It’s not like you can see much though, but you love to hear the sound of his tongue on you. 

It’s a loud noise even though he’s muffled. You let out soft whimpers as not to wake Shoko. He loves to suck on your clit more than anything. He gives soft licks in between to relieve your center from the extreme stimulation but it doesn’t do much. The pattern edges you every time, and he does it on purpose. He says it makes you restless and a lot more needy for him.

He hums his mouth against your clit, making you roll your hips into him.

“Put it in already,” you’re teething at the edge of the blanket, but he hears you nonetheless.

He rises up, chin running a muck of juices with the blanket over his head like it’s a veil. It was weird how his eyes would ignite like that in the dark, like they were made of that glow in the dark fluid. The moonlight finally poured over the clouds, giving the room a bit of light.

“Pretty boy,” you say quietly, spreading your legs in front of him. 

“You think so?” He’s quick to lather up two fingers in his mouth before plugging them in you. He sits there, flicking upwards against the resisting flesh of your walls, making you wriggle in pleasure. 

“You’ll wake Shoko with a pussy this loud,” he’s immersed in the slick covering his hand with every motion. You head locks onto the girl on the floor whose back faces you both, shoulders rising and falling softly.

“Unless you wanna,” he withdraws his fingers from you, sucking tightly on them before releasing them with a pop. “Dirty girl.”

He’s sliding his raw length against you now, “So wet for me too.”

You’re bobbing your hips downward towards him, nibbling at your bottom lip, anxiously waiting to be penetrated. “Mhmm...” 

Disagreeing with him would only slow down the process.

“That’s right,” he’s hunching over you now, flicking his hard tip against your soaked cunt.

“Now gimme a kiss,” the taste of you is still prominent on his tongue as he cups your face to kiss you. He slides himself into you while still attached to your mouth, feeling your tongue and body contract from the penetration. He’s shuddering into you softly, sucking and pulling on your bottom lip. He gives you air after the first few plunges into your sex, forcing semi-loud sounds from your throat.

The feeling of his curved length is always welcome, stretching you out just right. He knows that you’re so whipped, no matter how much you ignore him at school or pretend to be annoyed with him. When he has you like this, drooling for him, he knows he could probably convince you to do anything. 

The sound of skin slapping skin was thankfully  muffled by the blanket over the both of you. The bed is creaking slightly as he speeds up. You and Satoru would make it a habit to fuck on the futon you took from him to avoid excessive noise at night. 

“I can’t go as fast as I want to,” he grits. He’s frustrated about noise all of a sudden. 

“You should’ve waited until tomorrow, now I’m all worked up. Hurry up and finish.”

“Believe me, I’m trying sweetheart.” 

“Do you both talk this much all the time when you do it?”

The futon speaks, or rather, the young woman now sitting upwards on top of it did. She’s rubbing her eyes and shifting from underneath her blanket. 

“For fucks sake,” she muttered. Satoru smirks wildly, making you slap his arm.

“Sorry Sho,” you say sheepishly. She hardly looks angry at you. Her own eyes are warm and tired as she crawls over to the edge of the bed right beside you.

“It’s okay,” the words are sweet like honey on her tongue. She’s never been angry at you for anything. Even in moments she probably should be. Her hair falls against your chest as she brushes her lips against yours, initiating a kiss. 

Her mouth is soft and feathery, and she doesn’t care for Satoru’s presence at all, inserting herself between you both with her kiss. You find yourself sitting up and kissing her back, even with him still between your legs.

Seeing you kiss someone else, especially having that someone be Shoko, was a different kind of attractive. Still inside of you, Satoru pumped slowly while she hung over the edge of the bed mouthing you off. A sweet moan from you poured into her mouth, her favorite sound, making her smile against you. 

She parts her lips from you, and the look you give her is so smothered and needy. You wanted her in this bed with you too.

“Please,” you whine to her. And she can’t think to say no because it’s you. 

“Of course,” she’s willingly removing her shirt for you. She’s confident about her body, stripping just for you. You nudge Satoru, who separates from you in order to make space for her. She climbs in beside you, making herself comfortable.

“Why don’t you sit back and watch for a bit,” her lips curl into a smile, using a single foot to push him back onto his knees. 

“Beat your cock or something, whatever men do,” she smiles smugly. He laughed deeply before nodding.

“Give me a show,” his voice is low when he says it, positioning himself at the end of the bed. He obediently starts stroking his length covered with your fluids. You on the other hand are waiting for something— anything to help yourself cum. Shoko feels you spread your legs as she presses her hot, bare breasts against your ribs. Her fingers are so slim and smooth, sliding between your folds to play in your slickness.

“Let’s show him how fast I make you cum,” she lowers her voice, blowing air into your ear. She spread goosebumps across your arms and legs, adding a kiss just beneath your ear. You nod loosely.

Her fingers rub delicate, rhythmic circles on your clit. Her mouth is on yours again, tonguing you down while he watches ravenously. Soft squeals pass through your lips while you roll yours hips at her silk touch. 

Two of her nimble fingers prod at your entrance while her tongue swirls around your own. You moan greedily, asking her to stimulate you further by using your body. 

She knows what you want, she always does. And that’s why she pumps them into you, curling at your center. With each curve of smooth padded fingertips against slick flesh, several sounds emanate throughout the room. Ragged breathing, ragged moaning, dick stroking, wet mouths— wet sounds.

Its a lude feeling, being watched like this. They both want nothing more than to ravish you, and you feel it through Satoru’s piercing arctic eyes and Shoko’s refined touch. She’s immersed in you, climbing half way over you while she continues to pump your sex. Her hard nipples irritatedly rub against yours while she pours her tongue into your mouth. She feeds off of your moans, humming back in affirmation. She knows you’re going to cum, you don’t have to say anything to hint at it.

Your cunt splashes against her palm while your body rolls against her. She pulls away to watch your eyes fall back. Sweet relief at last, you think, but she’s hardly done with you.

Shoko pulls her hand from your slimy cunt, laughing softly as she slides her tongue between the two sullied fingers.

“You got all that?” Shoko says, peering back at Satoru, who had been gritting his teeth at the two naked women in front of him.

“Mhmm,” he chuckles. “And are you questioning my ability to make her cum?”

He’s not actually offended, but he’d give anything to put this chick in her place. 

“You were talking a whole lot more than anything else.” She teases, now looking back at you. You’re panting at the two of them, twitching and aching for more like the spoiled brat you are. “Can you get up?” Shes asks.

You nod, pushing what you could of your upper body up. She runs both hands through her hair so confidently, she almost intimidates the both of you. “Good. And you’re gonna be on the bottom, since I can’t stand hearing you talk.” 

She says this without even looking at Satoru, moving over to allow him space to lay between you both. He chuckles, not really paying attention to the insult. “Optimizing the space? I get it now.” 

He lays back flat, arrogantly resting his head against his arms. “Choose your slot, ladies.” 

Shoko rolls her eyes, swinging her leg to hover her steaming sex over his face. You realize what’s happening as she opts you to straddle his lower half. You waste no time, sinking yourself onto his length and shuddering from the extra ripples of pleasure from your previous orgasm. You grip Satoru’s torso for support, nearly resting your head on Shoko’s shoulder. This prompts a moan from him, and the sound has this low growl in it. You clench yourself around him, soaking in the feeling some more.

Shoko wants to see your face while you rock against his length. She pushes your body up, and her eyes are soft on you. You were truly what she craved. Your weak and furrowed brows, your needy expression— everything about you made her ache. She takes your bruised lips in for a wet kiss, sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’ve got a pretty pussy,” Satoru says, blowing cool air against Shoko’s glistening slit.

“All the more reason for you to shut up and eat it,” she parts her lips from yours for only a second to say this. You feel her lower her cunt onto his tongue as she deepens your kiss. He chuckles again. 

“You’re so mean Shoko...” he fake whines. He wraps his mouth around her drenched clit, sucking on it as if he had something to prove. The repeated sucks force a loud moan from her lips and the sound pours onto your own. The song of his scorching tongue against her sex finds your ears, making you rock on onto his sex more with far more need than before.

He’s humming delightedly against her as her slickness pours down his throat. He releases his suction and replaces it with consecutive licks, giving her a break from the almost violent prior stimulation. She’s surprised, bewildered by her classmate’s seemingly flawless pussy eating talent. The short interaction showed her why you tolerated him at least a little bit. She swung her head back, scarfing back a moan as you wrapped a hand around one her breasts, tugging at her erect nipple.

Satoru is merely a prop at this point, allowing the both of you to make a mess on top of him. The experience is somewhat of a dream, as it may be for most men. He’s on cloud nine with the two of you on top of him like this.

You can hear him snickering beneath her as you rock weakly on his length, he was clearly proud of himself. She’s not shy on suffocating him in response, pushing more of her weight against him. He welcomes the action, groaning  at the taste of her dribbling down his chin. He welcomes the action by stuffing his tongue inside of her, earning the highest of pitches from the brunette.

It’s the hottest scene for you, seeing her pant above him like that, but she never takes her eyes off of you. Her mouth his wet, and her gaze pours over your a naked body as your breasts bounce all for her to see. She loved it like this; the best view in her opinion. She sticks out her tongue, practically begging you to suck on it. 

You can hardly deny her looking like this, attaching your mouth onto hers again. 

“(Name)...” she moans your name so punily against you, eyes partially open and glossy with pleasure. She’s dangerously close to orgasming, and Satoru is eerily telepathic. He applies his suction again, humming in affirmation for her to cum for the both of you. 

He reaches one hand to settle against her hip while his other hand firmly holds her upper thigh, somewhat locking her in place. He sloppily buries his face into her while her cunt squelches against his mouth. Keen on making a grand first impression, he worms a hand underneath her and dips two of his large fingers into her sex. Her mouth pops off your yours, throwing her head back as he curls his digits inside the bundle of flesh. She splashes against him, sullying his face. He ejects his fingers, drinking up most of what she creamed out onto his face.

Collapsing in the crook of your neck, her hot breath ignited your body even more, making you rock against Satoru’s length with fevor.

“Fuck, that’s sexy...” He released his mouth from her, groaning between clenched teeth. 

You’re under the impression that Shoko’s done for the night while you attempt you give yourself a final orgasm on top of him. Her hot mouth connects with your neck, sucking and dragging her soft lips against your fiery skin. 

A decadent moan passes your lips, and she hums against you. “Pretty girl, let me spoil you some more...” 

Feathery lips glide down your neck and chest as you brace back, still grinding away. She rolls one of your nipples against her tongue, palming your free mound for you while you focus on reaching your high. Raising her ass from the nest that was Satoru’s face, she smirks at the mess of fluids on his chin that she made, feeling a bit too proud of herself. She crawls up behind your body, pressing her boiling skin and still erect nipples against your back. You relax into her delicate touch, holding one of the hands that groped your breasts for you. 

“Tapping out?” Satoru asks, watching the two of you seemingly phase him out yet again. You’re rocking into him, but seeking so much attention from her. 

“No, I’m prioritizing this sweet lamb of mine,” the words drip from her lips like molasses. Her lips meet your neck yet again, nipping her teeth against the skin before sucking in a way that would surely leave a mark on you. 

“Yours huh?” Satoru grits his teeth. He was inches away from his orgasm just from watching the both of you all over each other like that. His large and calloused fingers grip you hips, guiding your loose humping above him.

“Mhmm,” Shoko hums softly. She doesn’t actually care about laying claim to you. You came to her for a different kind of sex— something he couldn’t provide. “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

You’re entirely faded, head being cocked back on her shoulder for support, only begging her for extra stimulation. She knows this all too well, sticking two of her fingers into your mouth. 

She plays with your tongue shortly before pulling a string of saliva from you. She places her glossy fingers on your clit for you, rubbing in intricate circles. 

The smooth rhythm along with being filled up with his ever-twitching length finally spirals you into another orgasm, one that had been poking at your insides for a while now. You quiver on his length, throwing an arm back to caress Shoko’s hair while you ride it out. She’s moaning with you; she knows how good you’re feeling right now. 

The room is hot and loud with moans, and Satoru can no longer hold his crowning load. His fingers are squeezing (a bit too hard) at your waist, almost bruising you as his toes curl in ecstasy. Watching Shoko grind her naked body against yours was something he would engrave into his brain. She claimed you were the spoiled one. He could argue otherwise, having gotten to see the both of you like this. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out. Thick wads painted the insides of your searing flesh, so much that you were already leaking onto his lap. 

“Good little lamb,” her hot breath finds your ear as your grinding finally subsides. She draws her fingers from you, soundly licking up the juices in your ear.

Your body twitches as it relaxes into her chest. She turns your head for a messy kiss, making your groan against her tongue. Satoru sits back up on his elbows, pushing some of his hair out of his face— as if he did much during this entire interaction.

Shoko gets from behind you, plopping in the space closest to the wall. You rise off his length, weakly motioning him to move over to lay between them.

“This bed is barely big enough for the three of us,” Satoru snickers, snaking an arm over both of your waists.

“You could always go sleep on your futon,” Shoko says, quick to remove his hand from her hip as she reaches for the comforter to cover your bodies. Satoru scowls a bit.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that.” He rolls his eyes, snuggling closer against you. 

“Yeah~ you could use your futon.” You sleepily  slur, closing your eyes.

“Not you too,” he says quietly into the crook of your neck. 

There was more groggy and teasing conversation, not that the three of you would remember it when the morning came. You all slept in far past your 9AM class together. The best part though, was probably waking up to a half naked Satoru asleep on the futon in the morning. You and Shoko kicked him off the bed throughout the night, and he gave up on trying to separate your bodies from one another.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo sensei #shoko ieiri #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko smut #jjk shoko ieiri #jjk