#it's kinda a trash city with nothing in it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lnfours · 4 months

Text

everything | l.n

summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

masterlist | inbox | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.

you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.

and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.

so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.

you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”

you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”

his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.

and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.

the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?

he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”

you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”

he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”

you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”

you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.

“you know you can tell me anything, right?”

not this. not now.

you nodded, “i know.”

he nodded back at you, “okay,”

you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.

you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”

you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”

“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”

best friend.

you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”

he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”

he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.

he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.

you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”

he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.

“y/n!”

you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.

“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”

you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”

he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”

he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”

“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”

“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”

“not for the same reason i want to see you!”

“you don’t know that!”

you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”

you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”

you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”

“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”

“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”

“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”

he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.

but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.

two souls intertwined. that was you and him.

“lando-“

“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“

“lan-“

“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”

the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”

he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”

he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.

he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”

you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”

he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.

and it was all because of him.

1K notes · View notes

leonstoenailunderhisbed · 24 days

Text

American Psycho Killer

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.

Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.

A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3

“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!

Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.

Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.

What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.

His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.

He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.

Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.

When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?

He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.

Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.

But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.

Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.

He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.

Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.

The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?

He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.

So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.

The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.

He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.

He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.

Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.

So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.

Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.

He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.

After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.

And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.

Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.

He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.

There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.

He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.

Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.

He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.

Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.

With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.

A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.

You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.

“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.

You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.

As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.

Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.

As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.

Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.

You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.

The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.

This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.

He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.

He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.

He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.

So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.

“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.

You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.

“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.

“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.

Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.

You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.

Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.

Just for him.

That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.

His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.

His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.

He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.

You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.

And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.

He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.

He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.

He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.

When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.

Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.

Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.

Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.

Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?

Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.

The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.

It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.

It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.

Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.

Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.

The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.

In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.

You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”

You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”

He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.

You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”

He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.

He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.

“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.

He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.

One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.

He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.

Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.

“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.

Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.

He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.

His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.

You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.

He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.

For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.

777 notes · View notes

prettyinpink350 · 9 months

Text

Trailer trash

Dark Bucky x innocent reader. Dad Bucky x mom reader. Bucky is mean! 18+ don’t let me catch some kids in here reading this! I mean it!

Smut, mentions of previous hitting but nothing hard enough to leave marks. Yelling. cursing. Mentions of rough sex. Baby crying. Unprotected sex. Reader kinda has Stockholm syndrome. Bucky calls reader mommy like twice. Daddy kink

“I wanna get outta here!” She yelled after him.

“I know! I know kitten! Trust me I’ve heard ya bitch and moan about it for four years!” Bucky yelled back at her.

Y/n in a fit walked away from him. Going down the small narrow hall of their trailer, Bucky’s anger getting the best of him like it always did. He walked fast to catch up to her, then yanking her back by her hair.

“Owwww! Get off me James! Now!” She cried out

“Fuck no! You think I’m gonna let the love of my life and the mother of my child fuckin leave me! Your insane! I ain’t lettin ya get a god damn mile out of this town! Your mine.” Bucky said in her face, his nose touching hers. Tears streaming her face as little James came paddling through the hallway with his bottle in hand. The two year old crying from the yelling, him being able to sense the stress off his mommy.

“Let me go James” y/n said slowly to her husband. He let go of her hair, only taking a step back. His jaw tightened and eyes glared at her.

Little James came as fast as his little legs would carry him to his mother. Y/n bending down to pick him she began to soothe him with her voice.

“I’m here baby boy, it’s okay. I love you”

“Y/n if you leave me, I’ll hunt you down and you don’t want to know the rest” Bucky said, the two of them looking right in each other’s eyes.

“I didn’t say I was leavin ya, alls I said was I wanted a better life! With money and a better safer home and environment for our family” she said crying, little James now asleep in her arms his head resting on her shoulder.

Bucky’s eyes softened at the view of her and his son. He stepped closer, bringing them in his arms. He held her as she cried into him.

“I’m so sorry baby girl, I didn’t mean to hurt ya. I was just scared and let my emotions get the best of me again” Bucky did this quite often, he’d pull her, yank her, slap her, spank her, shove her on the bed and give her rough sex when he would get to angry. He never hit her hard enough to leave any marks or bruises though.

Y/n and Bucky met when she was 18 and he was 21. She was the farmer’s daughter young innocent and beautiful. They met at one of Bucky’s gangs parties, Wanda y/n’s best friend had made her come. It was her first ever party and when she walked in, wearing her little white sundress and sneakers and big doe eyes Bucky almost fell to his knees.

The small town didn’t see much of her because her dad and mother were protective of her. Bucky could see why because she was a play boy model with curves for days and a virgin. He flirted with her and smooth talked her all night.

After that they fell in love and they got married after being together for only six months. they moved into together in Bucky’s trailer. Him promising that they’d move away to the city and have money but then she got pregnant with little James and suddenly their savings for moving were used for a baby.

he was all she ever knew in the big world except her parents.

“Love you y/n Barnes, I mean that. I will die if I don’t have you or my son in my life” he said into her hair.

“I love you James, I just want out of here” she said

“I know, we’ll get there one day” he said in return “come on let’s go put the little slobber monster in his crib”

She giggles through her tears at what her husband said about her son because it was true he slobbered everywhere. They laid him down, watching for moment as he slept. He was perfect.

“Let’s go sexy mama, I wanna see my pussy” he whispered in his girls ear and slapped her bum. She giggled again now the sadness and hurt fading away because she knew Bucky would never hurt her on purpose he had problems and he didn’t mean to get rough it was an accident, that’s what he said all the other times. He would beg for forgiveness and little y/n’s heart couldn’t take it, she loved him and she couldn’t stand to see him hurt. So she took him back every time because to her it was normal. They both walked into their room

“Go get that lingerie I got you” he told her as he sat at the end of the bed naked. Cock in hand stroking in slow movements.

Y/n came out of their bathroom in a pink set of lace panties and bra, that were crotch less. Her soft pink bare pussy lips wet, her heavy tits looked so soft like pillows. Her nipples hard.

“Get your sweet ass over here” Bucky said his eyes filled with lust and love. She walked over to him standing between his legs.

He pulled her down on top of him, y/n now straddling him. He lined his hard 10 inch thick shaft with an angry pink tip leaking pre cum up to her tight hole. Pushing in, both moaned.

“God damn I don’t know how you’re so tight after taking me so many times and havin my baby” he said through a clenched mouth trying not be too rough with her.

“I love you James” she moaned when he stated to bounce her up and down in his cock.

“Love you too baby doll” Bucky flipped her over on her back, him now on top of her. His thrusts hard, he pulled down her bra sucking on her hard nipples.

“JAMMMMMESSS!” She moan loudly

“Shhhh honey, we can’t wake up the baby now” he said while he gave her a particular hard thrust as a warning.

“You’re such a good mommy baby girl. Feeding my boy with these tits and you’d save the the rest for me remember? I miss that” Bucky lifted her right leg up higher up to get deeper in her pussy. Y/n was so close to cumming tears were leaking from her eyes

“I’m gonna cum daddy!” She said breathy

“I’m close too, come on mama come with me” Bucky gave four more hard thrusts before they both were cumming

“Fuck yeah! I’m gonna get you pregnant again mommy. I’m gonna drink your milk and your gonna look so good pregnant with my babies again.” Bucky said well cumming making y/n moan at his words

“I want your babies Jamie! All your babies!” She cried out before at kissing him.

Bucky rolled over, both of them on their sides now. His cock still in her pussy, the two snuggled together.

“Love ya sexy mommy, you aint ever fuckin leavin me ya hear”

“I know daddy, I can’t live without you either. I love you too” she kissed his shoulder and then drifted off to sleep

#dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky smut #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes

520 notes · View notes

dailyunstableeve · 4 months

Text

She's just dropping by to gear up

Jill valentine x cashier/soldier!Fem!reader (at the gas station)

tw: This contains smut, interact with caution. nsfw, some breast play, fingering, dom!Jill, sub!reader, some alcohol, Jill loves to tease, kinda a fall in love in first sight

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

“Day 258,” you signed, crossing out a date off your notebook. Your work here has become more and more boring, can't help it, you gotta pay the rent or else you'll be on the street, turning into a zombie.

Ew, thinking of it makes you shiver.

Lucky for you, there's not much people actually come to this gas station for anything so it allows you to blast music, when all you need to do is keep this place clean. Afterall, this is not just some normal gas station by the road. This gas station is also counted as a safe zone from the virus, if zombies start to roam around this area, which means things get way out of hand.

It's not everyday a new virus is created.

From the day you've been assigned here, it's only Chris who appears here, he’s on mission more than anyone, eventually both of you become friends. Sometimes he would invite you to have a drink with him.

Other than that, taking out the trash has never been your favourite of all the stuff you gotta do, no one likes going to the dark back space of the station, you really should push the trash bin next to the station at least there's a little light there.

You heard a car stopped in front of the gas station that made you jump and run back to the cashier. It's a truck, looks very dirty, you silently judge it but when a woman with short hair walks out from the truck, you keep your judgement away.

“Welcome!” You put on your smile.

Oh my gosh, finally a customer after so many days.

“Hi, I would like to stock up,” The woman said, holding her s.t.a.r.s badge up, Jill Valentine, she looked so tired.

If only I can help her rest.

“Yeah, follow me,” you swiftly shut down the gas station, pressing the button under the cashier, then a secret room appeared, “everything you need should be there.”

“Thank you.”

You watched her walk down the stairs to the room then you followed behind.

“So, why is a girl like you here?” Jill asked you as she's checking up on the stocks.

“Well, the pay is high, and I need to pay rent,” you shrugged your shoulders.

“Won't it be boring? Missing out on the actions?”

“Well if it takes for someone like you to show up here, I'm pretty sure it's worth it,” you chuckled.

To look closely, she's just too hot for you to not take your eyes off, you can't stop staring at her.

“Say, too busy to catch a date after whatever you're gonna do after?” You asked, believing your confidence could get you a date with Jill.

“That will depend on if I made it back alive or not,” she softly chuckled.

“I pray for your return, Jill.”

“Thank you.”

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

A week has gone by, you're still hopelessly waiting for Jill to appear, for once you were looking forward to getting a date, especially since you work in a place that's basically isolated from the city. The whole week gave you a lot of time to think about what kind of date you and Jill could do, but also at the same time, who will take over your place if you asked for a leave? Chris is the first name that appears since you only know him but you can't possibly ask him for that because you're gonna go on a date and he's actually higher rank than you are.

Oh Jill.

You wanted to see her so badly, your mind has been nothing but her face projecting everything and everywhere.

“Y/N.”

“Oh Chris, stock up?”

“No, not today, I'm taking the time to rest,” he bitterly smiled. All those missions he went to must be hard for him, at some point you can't even think what you would do if you were sent to fight zombies.

“Well, if they are asking for you, everything you need is here to get ready,” you laughed and brought out your secret stash, “do you think you'll be able to drink?”

“Call it your lucky day today.”

Three bottles have been emptied out, and Chris is on the fourth bottle.

“Ugh, I am so needed to get my tolerance up,” you complained at your poor tolerances with alcohol.

“Don't beat yourself up, you did better than last time,” Chris laughed.

“Sometimes, I feel like it's a great idea they don't have cameras here, only for the road outside,” you fell onto the counter, the alcohol slowly kicking in, causing your vision to turn wobbly.

“Chris, do you happen to know someone called Jill Valentine?” You asked.

“Jill, yeah I know her, she's my friend.”

“Is she doing okay? I wanted to see her,” you mumbled.

“How do you know Jill in the first place?”

“She stopped by to stock up,” you answered.

“She just recently reported in from her last mission.”

“I see.”

Jill must've been taking a rest after the mission, she'll appear when she is finished. That's what you told yourself.

An hour later, Chris is fully defeated by the alcohol, you have to drag him down to the basement room to let him rest there while you're still trying to sober up. When you got back up to the surface, you spotted a motorcycle outside the gas station and someone was on it. You thought it's someone asking for directions so you talked to them through the small window.

“Hi, sorry the station is closed at the moment,” you speak through the small window, if Chris isn't on a mission, no one is.

“I'm here to pick up my date,” that familiar voice that has been dangling onto your mind for the past few days.

“Jill?” you excitedly asked, hop out from the shop.

“Is this a bad time?” She asked.

“No, not exactly, it's just that I have a drunk passed out Chris Redfield down the basement,” you laughed.

“Chris? What's he doing here?”

“Well, to be honest, it's usually just him showing up here to stock up so eventually we became friends,” you explained.

“So, I'm taking it that you can't leave?” Jill asked.

“I can't, Chris is here and I'm actually still trying to sober up,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“That's alright, we can chill here.”

“I'm so sorry if you have any plans for today, I'm sure next time we can do it.”

Just like that, you and Jill had the date on top of the rooftop, it wasn't really bad, both of you took the chance to know more about each other.

“Well, I know I'm still trying to sober up, but can't spoil the fun for you,” you brought up the remaining alcohol that's left from you and Chris.

Both of you think that it would be fun if you and Jill play some games, such as truth and dare, so the game is on. You started out with asking simple truth and dare for Jill, taking it as a chance to try to know her better, Jill did the same, until you decided you wanted to do something more.

“Truth,” Jill chooses.

“Jill, why did you choose to be on this date?”

“Is that even a question that can be asked?” She frowned, hiding that slight blush off her face.

“C'mon, I'll let you ask the similar question to me later.”

“Well, you're cute, and you have the confidence to ask me out on a date, and from all those talks we had just now, you're an incredible person, and I would love to know you more,” Jill answered.

You hope it's illegal because of how Jill is making you blush at the moment.

“Truth or Dare?” Jill looked at you.

“Dare.”

“Do the one thing you wanted to do so badly right now,” Jill smirked.

“Oh wow, okay, embrace yourself then,” you chuckled as you moved from your seat, moving closer to Jill, both of you looked at each other as you leaned forward for a kiss on her cheek.

You and Jill hold eye contact, she rested her hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes then she leaned forwards, left a kiss on your lip. You returned one back, and she did the same. Jill pulled you closer towards her as she kissed you.

Jill slowly pulled away, holding your hands and rushed down to the basement, a different room from where Chris is sleeping in, she slammed the door, inviting you to join her on the bed that's supposed for pass by soldiers to rest in.

You can feel her touch, slowly caressingly running up and down your body as her soft cherry lip pressing onto yours, giving you the kisses you'll never forget. Her kisses were harsh but yet sweet, brushing your hair to the side as she played with your ear, giving that tingling feeling but all you can focus on is her lip, needing every taste of it.

Jill slowly moved her hand inside your top, drawing circles on your cute tummy, drawing a sensation in you, her hand moved more further up, lifting up your top, revealing that black lace bra. Jill breaks the kiss as she turns her focus to your body, “what a gorgeous you are, sweetie,” as she's sitting on you, looking down. Jill admired your body a little longer, when she met your eyes again, she could see the desire you are wishing so badly for.

You wanted to kiss Jill so badly.

You wanted her touch everywhere on your body.

You wanted to feel her.

You wanted to be hers.

But Jill just looked at you, with a small smirk on her face, she's enjoying this.

“Please Jill,” you mumbled, you felt the heat on your face so you tried to hide your reddened face as you tried to form words.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

You know, she wants you to use your words to beg for her, you slipped your needy side to Jill and now she’s waiting for you to tell her what you need.

“Manage to get the conversation out for a date, can't say what's next?” Jill leaned closer, whispered in your ear, fingertip drawing around your body, teasing your poor desire.

You started to blame the alcohol you drank with Chris just now, you can't think straight.

“I want you Jill,” you looked into her blue eyes, babbling out the words, “I need you Jill, I want to feel you, so badly.”

“Good girl.”

Jill single handedly unhooked your bra, removing every pieces clothings of yours, leaving your naked body bare on the bed. Her hand cupped up your breast as she gently sucked on it, while her other hand fiddled the other lonely breast, muffled moans started to fall out from your mouth, you had your mouth covered, afraid that Chris would hear you.

“It's okay, no one is going to hear us,” she looked at you, admiring the expression you have on your face at the moment, then continued back what she's doing.

You couldn't tell how long it has been for Jill enjoying her time with your breast, she made you feel so good but yet a part of your body is throating for more.

“You gotta use your words to ask for what you want,” Jill pinned down your lower body, you immediately looked down and realised what you did, a dark spot stained on her jeans.

“I want you Jill.”

“Where?”

You held onto her hand as you guided her to the between of your thighs, “here please.”

Jill leans in for more kisses as her hand continues drawing circles the area between your thighs, you wish her to touch, but she likes to tease you a little longer before giving you what you ask for. You squirmed under her touches, you started to beg Jill, mumbling words into her ears, letting her know just how badly you wanted her.

Jill slowly inserted her middle finger in your cunt, spreading up your inside, your body squirmed as you gripped on both of her shoulders, she started to push it more deeper in, as her thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit. Jill could feel every twitch you made, your sweet moans getting louder and louder in her ears, babbling words that can't be understood as she picked up her pace.

Your hip started to lean upwards to Jill, she knows this movement of yours proves that you're close so she pulled away, leaving you groaning and whimpering, asking why she pulled away. You know damn well the answer, she loves to tease and she will take every opportunity she has to tease you until she thinks you deserve to cum.

Jill gives your clit a few gentle rubs, then spreads your inside with two fingers this time. Jill quickly picks back up the pace, your slick juice dripping down from her hand and your thighs, the sloopy sound as Jill thrusted her finger in, hitting the spot, tells just how wet you are. Jill found your mumbling as you're trying your best to cum, cute. She wanted to tease you so much more until you can't even say anything but continually cumming on her fingers but you've been a good girl for her.

“I love you Y/N,” she planted kisses around your neck, your collarbone, your breast, your arch up tummy.

“I love you too Jill,” your arm wrapped around her shoulder, head resting on Jill's shoulder, mumbling her name with the mix of your moans.

“I'm gonna- cum,” you mumbled out, hooked your legs around Jill's waist, gripping harder onto her shirt.

“Cum for me sweetie, cum for me, Y/N,” she whispered into your ear.

Your eyes roll back as your head throws back while you are still gripping onto Jill's shoulder, your hip leans upwards and stays there for a while as you feel the electric shock running through your body and letting out the loudest moans.

Your body immediately flopped back on the bed, trying your best to catch your breath. You could feel Jill caressingly brushing your hair, a soft kiss on your lip, “you did a great job.”

“I love you Jill.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

Hands holding onto each other, Jill flopped on the bed together with you, pulling you closer so she could cuddle with you.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

an: Here's my pardon approach, this is the first time working on the smut, please pardon me for any mistake I've made, and ofc, do let me know which part could be improve so I can learn from my mistake ;-; I hope you guys somehow did enjoyed it ❤️

Masterlist

Imagine this is how it ended:

“And I might have lied,” Jill softly chuckled.

“What did you lie about?”

“The room is not soundproof.”

“Jill!” You jolt up, looking at her.

“I'm pretty sure Chris is still asleep at the moment,” Jill pulled you back into her arms, “we'll worry about it later.”

#jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine fanfic #jill valentine fanfiction #resident evil jill valentine #jill smut #jill x female reader #jill x fem reader #jill x you #jill x reader #jill #jill valentine x fem reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x reader #jill Valentine #jill valentine #resident evil #resident evil jill

174 notes · View notes

bangtangalicious · 1 year

Text

nexus (m) part 3

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: taehyung x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 6k

warnings: explicit smut, rough penetrative unprotected sex, creampie, PRAISE KINK, degradation kink, dirty talk, lap dance, begging, petnames, some switch!tae action?, light choking, tae loves him sum ass, grinding, neediness/stuttering, oral (f), sexual tension, teasing, todays theme is LYING, manipulation, possessive behavior, mourning/fear, mentions of traumatic events, guns!, light violence/abuse, bad coping skills, drug use, obsessive themes, blackmail, gambling, psychiatric facilities and treatment **this is not realistic!!! the yandere is starting to show a lil oop, heartbreak, betrayal, but also like cute moments with tae, TWISTS AND TURNS BB this one kinda wild but not as wild as the next ones gonna be ;)

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Lost in the soft crinkling of flames, a young Jeon Jungkook hides—fearfully quivering inside his pantry. Heart racing with fear, hatred, all boiled up into his shaking hands. They had come to his house, tearing through it like it was nothing. Jungkook could merely watch as these suited men with their large guns trashed his home, breaking everything left and right while he hid, helpless. Utterly powerless.

Dad—his mind is spinning.

So he ran. Through the narrow alleys of the outer city. Stacked thing between tall, worn-down buildings—factories, apartments, grey smoke clouding the dark sky lit only by a gold shadow.

A sick feeling in his gut. A nasty premonition sending warning through his veins. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pausing a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t, not when sharp footsteps could be heard so near. He slipped behind a dumpster, hand pressed firmly against his chest as if it would muffle the pounding beats.

“You think you can get away with what you have done?”

Jungkook peeked out, eyes widening as he saw his father—on the ground, face covered in bruises with pure fear in his eyes. Unable to see much else. From the sounds of it, there must have been two or three others, but speaking was only one.

“I—I’m sorry” His father pressed his palms together, begging for forgiveness. Shame burned through Jungkook’s cheeks as he watched his father lay on his stomach, reaching for the shoes of the man who addressed him. “Forgive me, sir”

“Taehyung-ah” The voice addressed someone else, “Is this him?”

No response was heard. A moment passed. Seemingly, the slowest couple seconds Jungkook had ever lived.

And then there were gunshots. Jungkook shoved the side of his hand in his mouth, biting down as screams overtook him. Tears poured down his face—he couldn’t watch. He hugged his knees to his chest, sliding down the rough walls.

He heard the man spit on his father. He waited until the right moment before peering over the side one last time to see who it was.

He didn’t recognize the man. It was too dark to see his face but there was a vicious hate in his eyes. An anger that elicited fear from any who saw. His eyes diverted then to a younger boy by his side, trembling as he clung to the man’s sleeve.

“Hyung stop, please” The boy, clearly traumatized, was balling. “Let’s go home hyung”

The man smirked, dusting himself off before he lifted the younger boy into his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, let’s go home now, Taehyung”

The precinct was dimly lit. A sickly sheen reflecting from grimy tiled floors, walls with peeling paint, haphazard desks, stacks of manilla files. At this late hour, only a few officers remained, the stench of tobacco making your nose scrunch.

Jungkook ignored their disrespectful ogles. That Jeon, lucky fucker—pretty girl in cuffs tonight. He hovered his palm over the small of your back as though he were shielding you from their judgement.

You didn’t want his protection.

The interrogation room had a deadening silence. Your mind scrambling, attempting to piece together your next play. Your next lie.

A large, mirrored wall stared back at you—face to face with your opponent for the night. Could you keep it together? Or would you let Jin tear you apart from beyond the grave?

Jungkook’s fingers danced on the back of your neck, making you shudder. Unconsciously you arced your back to his touch, shocks down your spine as he unclipped your choker. He held it in his palm for a moment. The annoyed look in those dark eyes of his, as his fingers traced over the diamonds.

“Are these real?” You knew your answer would only piss him off, so you said nothing. Instead he took a seat across from you. A small pile of documents in front of him.

In front of you was a small machine. A polygraph. Jungkook placed the sensors on the inside of your wrist, ignoring the way you trembled at his cold touch. He was being careful. Your tears had the effect you had hoped. You could tell. His small gestures—your sadness made him uncomfortable. Stepping away, he observed you carefully.

“Did you know Jin was seeing someone?”

Typical Jeon Jungkook, you mused. To the point. No bullshit. Except you weren’t prepared. His questionrang in your ears. He was seeing someone.

“I didn’t” You said it, because it was true. Thinking back to the night. The kiss that had been years in the making. The kind of thing that inspired song—filled childish dreams. The kiss that wakes the princess up from a poison slumber. Instead, Jin’s kiss pulled you into his nightmare.

Jungkook bit back a smirk.

“Who?” Your voice was embarrassingly hoarse. Jealousy lacing every word.

You knew Jungkook must be enjoying watching you suffer. You’d be damned if you’d give him the satisfaction. Your nails were digging into your palms—the pain distracting from the pulsing hopelessness beating through your veins.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This was a game. It had to be. You didn’t know how—you didn’t know why. Somehow Jin was still fucking with you. Would he really have hidden something like that from you? A relationship. Had he loved them? Had he loved you? He said he did. Over and over and over again. You wondered if the meaning had faded.

Jungkook motioned to the document, “Namjoon didn’t want to force you into this marriage. Seokjin signed over Kim Enterprises to Namjoon in exchange for a promise of your engagement to Kim Taehyung, as well as control of Nexus—which is your mother’s company—right?”

The trick in poker, Jin had said—never let them know what you’re thinking.

Use pain. Focus on the most painful sensation in your body. It wipes your face of your real thoughts.

“I did not” The polygraph twitched.

“Interesting. Because all of these things combined give you a lot of motive to want Seokjin gone” Jungkook finally took a seat in front of you. “I wouldn’t blame you. They ruined my life too. Stole everything from me”

You stayed quiet. Jungkook was a new opponent. You weren’t familiar with how he played, yet.

“They killed my dad, ten years ago. Your mom disappeared too, didn’t she?”

Ten years ago. No bodies were found. No deaths declared. No explanation nor closure. Jin was there for you then, arms wide open to accept you in. Later the same year, Taehyung was sent away. You moved in immediately. You never asked why. You assumed it was what your mother would have wanted. The Kim’s took care of you, nursed you back to life. Jin, especially. He had always loved you so much.

Jin was seeing someone.

“Ever wondered what really happened to her?”

Your eyes were watery. Red with anger. You stared at him with hatred seething through your teeth.

“I know what happened to her”

The polygraph twitched. Jungkook grinned.

“Maybe we can help each other out then”

“Hi princess”

Jungkook released you shortly after. Walking out of the precinct, hands rubbing against the raw imprints of the cuffs, you saw a white sports car. Standing by the door with a dozen roses in his hand, was Taehyung.

Smiling softly, he welcomed you. He really was extremely attractive, eyes so magnetic you simply couldn’t look away. Pulling you into his space. He gave you a light hug—respectful yet comforting.

Jin died. He’s dead. “I need to go home,”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “I know” Is all he said. His eyes sparkled as he let his lips graze your forehead. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through”

Your heart pulsed. Taehyung had always been selfless. You crumbled into his kindness. Resting your face against his chest. Alone—the ungodly hour. The parking lot of the precinct. The faint sound of crows on the horizon.

“I missed you” He exhaled, meeting your gaze. “You have no idea how bad I missed you, princess”

The petname stung. You wondered if it always would. For Taehyung, you were his princess. For you, you were Jin’s. His princess, his love, his everything.

Because Taehyung hadn’t been here. He left you.

“If you missed me, why didn’t you just come home?” Your voice was shaking. “You never called. Never wrote. You even missed the funeral”

Taehyung let the roses fall from his hand. Gently he stroked your back, swaying your body side to side.

“I promise I will tell you everything, but right now just let me hold you”

The moment retreated into silence. Nothing but the slight swing of your hips. Taehyung’s hands explored your back, stroking you gently. His steady heartbeat lulling you into a sense of ease. He kissed the top of your head, humming softly.

After some time, Taehyung cupped your cheek. You looked at him questioningly.

“Let’s get you home”

Yoongi arrived in the precinct the next morning. His eyes crusty, dark circles from the night he lay away—in front of his computer digging for the truth. He was obsessed. It occurred to him how pathetic he was being. An ex-boyfriend trying to prove his girlfriend’s fiancée was no good. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

From his understanding, Park Jimin was a practicing psychologist. His age matched Taehyung’s—meaning the plausibility of Taehyung simply going under an alias was still there. He had no way to connect Park Jimin to the Kim family—at least not publicly.

But Yoongi had seen one too many serial killer movies. He thought of how brilliant it could be for someone to kill the only living person who knew what Kim Taehyung looked like to take his place. Whether he was right or not, he needed you to be safe. You were currently off with this man doing who knows what—the thought alone disgusted him.

He wanted to tear all the tiny fingers off that wretched heir. He wanted to burn him into the ground.

“Min Yoongi” The detective arrived in the room where he sat, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hi sir—yes, you’re Jeon Jungkook right? The detective investigating Kim Seokjin’s murder?”

Jungkook nodded slightly.

“I was wondering if you had information on Kim Taehyung” Yoongi gulped, pulling out his phone. He slid it over to Jungkook who looked at the screen skeptically. “That man—that’s Park Jimin. But—” His voice was a stuttering mess. But Jungkook deduced what he was trying to say.

“This is Kim Taehyung” Jungkook grumbled. “Interesting”

“I couldn’t find a connection. I was hoping maybe you would be able to use police resources to see? I’m just worried. He could be Jin’s killer”

Jungkook took a seat, pulling out his laptop. After scrolling for some time he paused. Chewing his lip.

“Who else have you told about this?”

Yoongi shook his head. “N-no one, I noticed it yesterday. He has a tattoo that I don’t think he should have if he was really Kim Taehyung because Taehyung wasn’t there when his mom died and Y/n said that—”

Jungkook held his hand up, “Breathe” He instructed firmly. Yoongi gasped. His palms were sweaty. Eyes quivering. “Y/n—are you a friend of hers?”

Yoongi’s movements stilled. “Um, kindof.”

“Ah, so you were fucking her” Jungkook folded his arms over his chest. “So you had motive”

Yoongi huffed, “I wouldn’t be here if I had something to hide”

Jungkook hummed in agreement. “Well Min Yoongi…looks like you might be onto something. Park Jimin was a registered patient at the Children’s Correctional Clinic ten years ago. That’s when Taehyung left—isn’t it? It looks like they must have altered his identity to protect their family or something”

“I see…that makes sense, I guess.”

“Don’t poke holes, these guys don’t play around Yoongi” Jungkook warned, shutting his laptop. “They do stuff like this all the time. Digging will only put you on their radar.”

Yoongi nodded, thanking him for his time. He hopped into his car—googling Children’s Correctional Clinic on his phone.

He called the number.

“Namjoon” Hobi emerged from his room, nothing but a fluffy blue robe adorning his figure. Outside the window, the late morning sunrays of Paris glimmered through into the penthouse. Hobi never stayed in one place too long, but he made enough to have multiple permanent homes. He preferred the consistency. He had lots of things he liked to collect—he was a hoarder, if you will. “I cannot keep harboring a fugitive”

Namjoon sat at the piano, glasses on the rim of his nose, staring at the document in his hand. “You knew about this—and you didn’t tell me?” His hand was shaking.

In his hands was his mother’s will.

In his hands, was all he ever dreamed.

“He wasn’t exactly eager to share the information” Hoseok sighed, walking up to Namjoon. He curled his fingers around his shoulders, massaging him gently. “Took some persuading—God, you’re so stiff you need to relax. Stress looks horrible on you, Joonie”

Stepping away, Hoseok slid open a mini decorative jar, studded with little jewels. Inside was a small bout of white power. Taking the matching little spoon he poured a little bit out onto a tray. Reaching into his robe’s pockets, he pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Rolling it up, he inhaled the powder quickly. “You want some?”

Namjoon ignored him, simply too stunned to react.

“Jin never got the company. I just never knew because he went to the will hearing while I,”

Hobi gave him a knowing look, “You need to forgive yourself. God knows she’s moved on. Honestly she’s better off for it, she’s killing it now”

Namjoon winced, recalling what he had done to you that night. It had all been for nothing—him crushing your spirit. The dirty deals he made with his brother the very next day, signing away things that were rightfully his—rightfully yours—without even realizing.

There could have been a different story. He could have gone to the will hearing. He could have had more faith in himself instead of stopping so low he needed to hurt Jin before he even had a reason. Maybe you would still like him. He would have learned to love you back. Maybe things could have been simple.

“He tricked all of us”

“That’s Seokjin for ya” Hobi sighed, walking over to the wall. It was decorated with a line of automatic rifles. No bullets, of course, but he liked to show off his collection. Reaching, he dismantled one. A personal favorite. A gift. Toying with the weapon in his hand, he smirked, “Greedy little fucker, that one. But Joonie I gotta ask, and you know I support you no matter what” He turned again. “Was it you? Did you kill your brother?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I don’t remember. But yeah, it’s possible”

The man at the clinic handed Yoongi a box. “These are all of our visitor logs from ten years ago. Hopefully that helps”

Thanking him, Yoongi immediately began digging through the files. He scanned the names of the visitors—until his eyes narrowed down—Kim Seokjin. So, he had been here.

Tracing the row with his finger, he noticed the patient Jin had come to see—patient ID 1230. Setting it aside, he pulled out another stack of files—room assignments. He located the patient ID, registered under KTH. Kim Taehyung. His roommate was patient 1013.

“Excuse me, do you know who I should talk to if I am trying to find someone who was admitted here?” Yoongi called out to the receptionist.

“Usually patient files are confidential, sir. But when most of our patients grow too old for our facility, they get transferred to another luxury facility, The Rose House.

“Perfect, thank you so much”

Everything reminded you of him.

The same steps you used to fall down. He’d reach out his hand, pull you up, not letting go until you’d stop crying. Your room—the doorway in which he would come in, leaning against the frame as he would ask you about your day. His room, where you would sneak into at night, snacks in your hand, getting high under the stars.

The bathroom where you stared at your own face. Instead, you saw him. Smiling. As he would place the choker around your neck. I got you this. Happy birthday, princess. Diamonds suit you. You gasped—turning the sink on. Letting it fill to the rim. You ducked your head down, letting the cool sensation cover your face.

You held your breath.

You won’t lose me, ever.

This was all your fault. Wasn’t it?

“Y/n!”

Dizzy—you blinked as a hand pulled you back. It was Taehyung, eyes quivering with worry.

“What the fuck” He mumbled, grabbing a towel, and wiping your face. You sighed, helplessly. The last thing you wanted was a confrontation. It was just something you liked to do—it helped you clear your mind. God knows what Taehyung thought he was walking in on.

Taehyung stared at you, dabbing your wet skin.

“You’re hurting” He said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes”

Stopping his movements, you shook your head. “I’m alright, Taehyung. Go back to sleep”

Taehyung pouted. You smiled immediately, remembering how bratty he used to be. He would hate seeing you sad—always wanting to see you smile.

“I honestly can’t sleep” He confessed, setting the towel aside. “It feels strange, being back”

You understood. Ten years was a long time—specifically to be the age Taehyung had been gone for. He was a little kid, and now he was a man. If you had met him on the street you probably wouldn’t have even recognized him.

“Do you wanna sleep in my room? I don’t really mind. It’s pretty fucking big” You chuckled. Taehyung gave an eager smile, nodding quickly.

“That would be great, noona” You scrunched your nose in distaste. Taehyung giggled. “No? No noona? Alright I’ll just stick to princess Y/n” He poked you playfully.

You rolled your eyes, pinching his cheek fondly.

Guns. Guards. Yoongi shuddered nervously as he stared at the facility gate. It looked less like a hospital, more like a resort. He would expect nothing less for the Kim prince.

“I’m here to see Kim Taehyung” The words left his mouth before he could even process them.

“Right this way” Yoongi exhaled in relief. He followed the receptionist into the space. Palm trees all around. A group doing yoga. Another painting flowers. Some people simply meditating on their own.

Not a bad set up. Yoongi mused.

“Mr. Kim isn’t in this wing” The receptionist noticed Yoongi looking around, confused. “We keep extreme cases in the basement”

The basement. He followed the receptionist down a dark series of stairs. Opening the door, he squinted. The white light was nauseating. Slick like a hospital, nurses scurrying about. The rooms were glass. Walls plain.

Just looking at it made him feel crazy.

“Don’t worry, they can’t see you” Yoongi stared at the patients, each in their own space, some crying, some screaming, some staring aimlessly into space. “They’re treated well. Get to go outside, supervised, at scheduled times. They eat, sleep. See their doctor. All from rich families so, money serves them good”

They halted at the end of the hall. Yoongi peered into the room. A man sat on the bed, legs crossed casually, reading a book.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. The resemblance to his mother was uncanny.

“Buzz if you need anything” The receptionist walked away. Gulping, Yoongi carefully opened the door.

The man’s eyes shifted in his direction. Carefully he set the book down.

“T-Taehyung?”

He stared at Yoongi for a while. As though he was trying to figure out who he was. Finally, a smile crawled onto his face.

“Ding ding ding” His grin widened, “We have a winner”

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Fingers tracing the lacey ends of the stockings as you pulled them up to the top of your thighs. The small floral pattern, dainty and delicately crafted, fit for an angel.

Your lips quivered at the irony.

Jin had bought it for you. Jin had bought a lot of things for you. Gifts or on request. He never denied you of anything material thing you could ever want.

The bathroom was cold, as the stocking did little to subdue the goosebumps running up and down your legs. You shivered, reaching for your lip gloss—the final touches.

Taking a deep breath, you exited the bathroom. Your long white stilettos knocking against the tile. There was less light in the room, only the dim halo from your bedside lamp.

Taehyung sat on the bed, thighs spread, leaning back against his wrists—waiting for you, patiently. He suggested a nice dinner. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little better. From what you could gather he was very observant. A great listener, and an amazing person to get comfort from.

“You look…amazing” Of course—that had been your intention. Taehyung wanted to talk—but you were tired of talking. He made you feel good. He made you feel seen.

Taehyung himself looked delectable—white shirt tucked into tight black jeans. Approaching him you ran your fingers through his hair.

“You clean up real nice yourself”

He traced the strap on your shoulder. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Your hands glazed over his thighs before you slid to your knees.

“Wait what are you—”

You flattened your palms, running them across his legs as you blinked at him innocently. His breath quickened, watching in awe as you stood up again, crawling into his lap.

“Something wrong?” One by one you popped his buttons open, not letting your eyes leave his. Your fingernails scraped against his chest, making him hiss.

“Princess” He warned, still not moving. You unzipped his jeans, hooking a finger into his belt loop before sliding back down to your knees—taking his pants with you. You kissed the tops of his knees, travelling up his thighs as he shuddered.

Your fingers fanned out over his bulge. Taehyung cursed inwardly. You wanted to put on a show for him. Wanted him to need you so bad he couldn’t take it. Because you wanted him. Wanted to feel him everywhere. Taehyung leaned forward suddenly, tilting your face up. Thumb tracing your lip. You stuck your tongue out, wrapping his thumb in between your glossy lips.

He watched you suck on his thumb obscenely.

“Stop” His voice was stern. He was not fucking around. He looked serious in a way that gave you chills. “We shouldn’t”

You released him. You were tired of being told no. What was the point of all the wealth—all the luxury—if you couldn’t have what you wanted? Was it so wrong—was it so fucking wrong for you to want to sleep with your fiancée? The man that your lover was forcing you to marry—the man who you barely knew?

“Please” You pressed your chest against his, pulling his face into your neck. His nose traced your jaw as he inhaled sharply. Hands finding your lower back.

“Please fuck me” Your lips dragged against his ear, making him shudder. Voice barely above a whisper. Seductive—as you rolled your hips teasingly.

You asked so nicely, there was no way he would say no.

A low growl left Taehyung’s lips. He immediately stood up, lifting you by your thighs. He tossed you down onto the bed, quickly climbing over your frame. Vicious—desperate—his lips found yours, tugging at them. Tongue piercing through, swallowing you in. His fingers gripping your legs, pulling them apart, nails digging into your flesh as he slotted himself where he wanted.

“You bitch” He breathed out, rolling his hard cock against you. “Such a fucking tease”

You mewled, wrapping your legs around him. The friction sending shocks through you. His touch was electric, grabbing handfuls of your ass as his lips slanted across your jaw. He scented all over your neck, nipping your skin.

“Here I am trying to be so good to you, but you’re such a little slut” You cradled his head against you, moaning out as he nibbled your ear. Heat pulsed through your chest, down between your legs.

“Yeah I am. And what are you gonna do about it?” You smiled against him, knowing he could feel it. You arced your back, allowing him to unzip your little dress. He slid it off you in a swift motion, tossing it aside.

Hovering over you, his eyes scanned over your body—licking his lips. His fingers traced your panties, slipping inside briefly. He grinned watching you blush—your wetness leaking against the flick of his finger.

“So wet for me. So needy—fuck” Immediately he climbed back over you, latching his lips to your chest. He kissed you all over—mouth open wide, sucking and tugging at your flesh. You gasped—legs failing in the air as he continued to trail his kisses down your stomach. Dragging your panties to your knees, he pressed his nose between your legs. Heat burned through your face.

You reached for him, grabbing a handful of his hair. He carefully licked your throbbing folds. Twitches overtook your body as he drank you up. Tongue slipping deep inside you. His fingers tracing your stockings, holding your thighs up over his shoulders.

“T-taehyung” You screamed, gasping loudly as pleasure seized every fiber of you. Abruptly he pulled away, causing you to whimper.

“Don’t” He gritted his teeth, “Don’t call me that”

You gulped, “What do you want me to call you?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder it for a while. “Anything just—not my name”

You would have questioned it more, except he shed his boxers. His cock eager for you. He towered over you, aggressively jerking along his length. You propped yourself up, licking the tip cautiously.

Your panties painfully jut into your thighs, but Taehyung lined his cock up with your folds. He let a glob of spit fall onto your clit before rubbing it all over. You panted heavily, sweat collecting on your forehead. Eyes clenching shut as you felt his tip burn into you.

“Look at me” Taehyung growled, reaching for your neck. He gripped it tightly, forcing you to watch as he pushed his length in.

“F-fuck” Your eyes rolled back. Pain shot through you, your legs trapped. Taehyung didn’t care. He groaned loudly, hissing curses as he bottomed out. Without another thought, he began to pummel into you. The slippery noises making you dizzy with need. His fingers wrapping fully around your neck, nose brushing against yours. The bed creaked under you. His cock twitching as he fucked. In and out. Hitting you deep in your core.

“Princess” He sighed loudly, lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, squeezing him for all he was worth “You don’t know h-how much I wanted this—how bad I prayed for this, Y/n—I always wanted you so bad. So bad”

His words sputtering as he began to pump you even faster. “Wanna fuck you all the time. Want you so bad princess—this is all I want. Wanna cum inside you, make you all mine—fuck—you’re all mine princess, you always were”

Wet skin echoed through the room. The feeling of his cock filling you up just right. Sutffing you deep before he’d slam his hips, fucking into you again.

“You wanted me to take you like this, just always looking so pretty to fuck—that pretty little dress you had on—your little games—just wanted my fat cock in this little cunt didn’t you? Didn’t you princess?”

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your neck. “Dressing up pretty for me. Begging for my cum. Go on, beg for it princess. Tell me what you want” Releasing his grip you gasped for air.

“Please cum inside me baby” You traced his face fondly, “You feel so good”

Taehyung smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Huh? You like this?”

You nodded, kissing him deep. “I love it baby” Taehyung’s hips jerked.

“Yeah you do. Fuck.” He sped up, eyes rolling back in pleasure “Take it. Take my cum—fuck—gonna fuck you so deep”

You moaned against his lips. He shuddered, grabbing your hips as he spilled inside you. Panting heavily, he buried his face in your chest. You too were out of breath, twitching with pleasure.

Taehyung kissed your shoulders, staying nestled inside your warm folds. He rolled over, holding you close. “You’re amazing” He sighed before kissing your lips again—this time soft, sweet. “You’re everything I dreamed of”

You smiled weakly. “That was really good Taehyung” You noticed him flinch at his name. “Thank you”

Taehyung kissed your cheek. “I can’t say no to you” His breath steadied, Pausing for a moment, he continued. “But we should have waited. You’re going through a lot. Now, I’ve loved you for a long time, I thought about you every day I was gone. But for you, this is sudden. This is fast. I understand that” He gazed at you as though you were so incredible, so precious, it made your heart melt.

“You were being forced to marry me” He cleared his throat, tracing your lips, “But I want you to want me. Want you to love me like I’ve spent the last ten years loving you”

What you had felt for Jin—it was strong. Overwhelming. Made you want to fall to your knees in defeat.

But Taehyung was here. He was the calm in the storm. The two of you were connected. And at the end of the day,

Jin was dead.

And you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Yoongi couldn’t even believe his eyes. He sat at the foot of Taehyung’s bed after explaining who he was, watching as the heir flipped to the back of his book. There was a section carved out—filled to the brim with small white pills.

“They were drugging me. To keep me here”

“Oh my god” What the hell did he just get himself into? Yoongi thought about the test he could be studying for instead of acting like a maniac. It was your fault. You made him like this. He would only do these things for you.

Taehyung shrugged “Figured it out, eventually...so I stopped taking the pills”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Ten years. The thought alone creeped him out. Being trapped in a place like this. The kind of trauma this would cause a person—it was beyond cruel. They might as well have killed him off.

“Why?”

Taehyung blinked blandly. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. So they sent me away. Convinced me it wasn’t real”

Yoongi felt queasy. He knew the Kim family was fucked up—but this was bizarre, even for him. “I’m so sorry” Truly, he didn’t know what else to say.

Taehyung scoffed, “Few years ago, Dr. Park got assigned to me per my guardian’s request. Put me on new meds—the wrong meds”

A few years ago—Yoongi pondered, maybe around when Chairwoman Kim died? Could Jin have orchestrated all of this? Yoongi wouldn’t put it past the lying bastard.

“I guess using whatever you’ve told him, Dr. Park convinced everyone that he’s you” Yoongi confessed. Taehyung didn’t react. “He stood in for you at your engagement”

“Engagement?” Taehyung tilted his head. Did he not even know?

“To Y/n”

The name made his eyes widen. The book fell from his hands. Pills scattered everywhere. Still. Motionless, he stared at nothing.

“Sir” Jungkook groaned as an officer approached him. He hated being interrupted when he was focusing. He hadn’t heard from you—he wondered if you had considered his offer. Together he was certain he could tear the Kim family to pieces. They deserved nothing less, not after what they did to him, you, and who knows how many others. In his pocket was your diamond choker. His fingers traced the rough edges of the jewels.

“What?”

“Min Yoongi is here again to see you” Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes. The last thing he needed was to waste time on a jealous ex-boyfriend of yours and his conspiracy theories.

Jungkook walked out towards the interrogation room. Stepping inside, he immediately noticed the another man. Tall, extremely handsome, messy black hair and sickly pale skin. Eyes thin, sinister. A face somewhere between bored and amused, Jungkook couldn’t quite tell.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to Yoongi, unphased. “What now Mr. Min?”

“Detective Jeon. Meet Kim Taehyung”

Jungkook inhaled as Yoongi went on to explain how he tracked the young heir down. He watched the man carefully. The man stared at him right back. He felt something tight in his throat.

It was a power play. The man was unwavering, but Jungkook wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. So we meet again Kim Taehyung. It’s been a while.

When Yoongi finished his story, Jungkook simply shrugged “Prove it”

The man smirked, eyes dropping, scanning Jungkook’s figure up and down with intrigue.

“I know who killed your daddy”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jungkook continued to glare at him, fists clenching. He did bear the resemblance. The twisted look in his eyes was a classic Kim trait after all.

Jungkook rolled his tongue in his cheek. This isn’t good.

“Yoongi, you and Taehyung stay here. I want you both under police protection. I will go get Y/n and make sure she is safe. Then we will figure out how to prove all this and arrest Park Jimin. Maybe he’s connected to the murder, maybe he isn’t”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a look. Taehyung tilted his head. “What murder?”

Oh. Jungkook tapped his finger against the table lightly. “Your brother—Kim Seokjin, was murdered”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Hyung? He’s dead?”

Both Yoongi and Jungkook stared at him, unsure how to proceed. “Yeah, and right now the evidence points at Y/n—but I don’t really believe she is responsible”

Taehyung cleared his throat, “What about Namjoon? He’s alive isn’t he?”

Jungkook nodded and Taehyung let out a sigh of relief.

“You do know” Yoongi started, “That your mother is dead—right?”

Taehyung’s face fell. Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who bit his tongue. Idiot.

“I didn’t know that” Taehyung exhaled slowly. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Jungkook. “Take us with you. She won’t believe you otherwise”

Jungkook frowned slightly. He pondered a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another second in proximity with a man that witnessed his father’s murder. The man who pointed his finger and caused it. But he had to be careful. He had to think smart.

“Fine”

Waking up in Taehyung’s arms was a dream. You felt light—weightless and free. He smelled like heaven, his warm body radiating onto you. Staring at his face, you observed his features closely. His eyelashes, his adorable nose, pouty lips. You remembered how he had a little spot on his face. Tilting his head to the side you searched for it.

Hm. You pursed your lips when you didn’t see it. Maybe he was still wearing some makeup. Taking his hand in yours, you began to kiss the pads of his fingers.

You saw his tattoo. Weird. You remembered Namjoon and Jin going together to get their family crest ingrained on their bodies. It had been a melancholy moment. A healing moment where you began to wonder if those two brothers could find love in each other ever again.

Maybe Taehyung got it when he was gone. He never did tell you why he never came back when his mom died.

You wondered if Jin would go visit him.

Jin.

Your heart began to sink into a deep pit. The screams came back to your ears.

“Fuck you—you liar” You screamed, hands trembling around the gun.

“Stop acting so innocent Y/n” Jin snapped, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?”

You froze.

Jin let out a shaky breath, face red with anger “I was trying to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do” He stepped closer. Closer. And closer. Until you could feel him. Feel the betrayal in his eyes. The gun slipped from your hands.

“You would have taken everything I had” You growled. “You lying piece of shit”

“You don’t understand—Nexus is dangerous. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

Jin slapped you clean across the face. Your jaw dropped, the pain stinging from impact—deeper in your chest when you processed what he had done.

“That’s enough” A deep voice cut through. A wave of relief crashing over you. Footsteps neared—they were hurried, angry. You shut your eyes.

Something shattered. Your eyes opened. In front of you a man stood, raging. Jin was on the floor, blood on his eye. Jin laughed.

“Nice of you to join us, Hoseok”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: get ready bc the next part is jimin's pov baby ;) send your theories! would love to know what yall think <3 (begs for feedback)

also you're hot and dont you forget it! thanks for reading :) <3

519 notes · View notes

hiddencityhijinksau · 2 months

Text

I'm totally gonna create art for this - already have - but in the meantime I should probably explain this concept lol.

So basically, in one way or another, the turtles each stumble upon the Hidden City at around age 8 to 10, and decide to keep it a secret from their bros >:3

Leo is the first one, technically, when he goes out to explore NYC when he's eight, and discovers Run of the Mill Pizza, because I'm obsessed with the Uncle Hueso idea, but he doesn't go to the actual city until much later, though he knows of it's existence.

I actually kinda started writing this starting bit? It's totally unedited and missing bits but whatever, I'll include it under the cut.

Leo peered up at the manhole cover from the bottom of the ladder, imagining what he would see if he climbed up and lifted it. The young turtle mutant didn't get long to think about it, hearing his brothers call for him.

"I'm coming!" The 8 year old ran to catch up with his family, sending one last considering look at the rungs of the ladder.

Later that night, after his brothers were asleep and his father was dozing in front of the TV, the red-eared slider crept out of bed, utilizing all the stealth skills he'd learned from the lessons Splinter thought he hadn't been paying attention to. Once safely out of the Lair, Leo practically sprinted down the route to the manhole cover he'd spotted earlier. There were entrances closer to the Lair, of course, but this way, if he got caught sneaking back in he could say he was just wandering around the sewers.

Reaching the top of the ladder, the slider paused for a moment, savoring the adrenaline of what he was about to do. Splinter never even let them explore the sewers without him, nevermind letting Leo venture out on his own. And now he was about to go Topside!

Shoving at the metal disc with all his strength, Leo cautiously poked his head out, eyes wide to take it all in. Of course, this wasn't his first time on the surface – Splinter had taken all the boys with him once or twice for scavenging trips, especially when they were younger. But now, Leo was here on his own! This was so exciting!!

The slider climbed out of the manhole, tugging the cover almost back into place, but leaving a small gap so he could get in later, as he wasn't sure how to lift it from the top side.

Bouncing in place, Leo looked around the alley he'd surfaced in with a wide grin, wondering what he might find.

Hmm. There wasn't much in this alleyway. In fact, it was pretty much empty. Nothing but a few scraps of cardboard and a colourful graffiti tag decorated the concrete.

Well, Leo didn't come here just to hang out in one measly alleyway! Full of confidence, the eight-year-old marched to the end of the alley, pulling up the hood of his sweater as he rounded the corner.

Even with the late hour, there were still people on the streets, eyes focused on getting to their destination. No one paid attention to the small figure in a battered green hoodie hurrying along, sticking close to the wall.

Leo ducked into the next alley, heart pounding. Okay, so that was a lot more nerve-wracking without Dad or Raph than he'd thought it would be.

Luckily, he realized as he took in his surroundings, this alleyway was much more interesting than the one he'd come out of. There was a huge dumpster on one side, and the walls were covered in graffiti. Even better, the far end of the alley was actually a corner, meaning there was more to explore!

Leo started poking around, kicking at the small piles of trash and inspecting the locked dumpster. Not finding anything cool, he moved on, admiring the graffiti.

He ended up turning two more corners while following the trail of graffiti, and found himself facing the street again. The constant something of spray paint broke off at the corner, meaning the skull painting in this alley stood out sharply.

Bla blah blah some yokai open the door to run of the Mill while Leo watches from behind a dumpster or smth

Leo's eyes sparkled. Was that actual magic?! Donnie said magic was impossible, but Donnie also said it was impossible for the two of them to be twins, and Leo knew that wasn't true. The turtle bounced forward with glee, eager to see where those people had gone, only to stop short when the portal closed in his face.

Leo frowned. Clearly, he just hadn't been fast enough. Wait, what was that gesture they used to open it? Leo lifted his hand, trying to mimic the pose he'd seen, and wiggled it with great concentration.

Nothing happened.

Huffing, the boy tried again. And again. And was glaring at the wall, ready to shout at it to let him in, when he heard someone approaching the alleyway. Eyes lighting up with an idea, Leo darted behind the nearest dumpster and peeked out, watching carefully.

Sure enough, another mutant-like person entered the alley, heading for the graffiti tag. Leo stared hard at the gesture they made, but instead of waiting and trying to copy it, he darted in behind them as soon as the portal opened.

As soon as he was inside, Leo stopped. And stared.

There were so many people! And none of them were human.

"This is the coolest place I've ever seen," Leo whispered to himself in awe. He slowly started walking further in, craning his neck to stare at every little detail.

So entranced was he, that he didn't see the bony figure approaching until he nearly face-planted into their suit.

"Where are your parents, little pepino?"

Leo froze and looked up at the sound of the voice. Towering over him, arms crossed, was a frowning... skeleton?!

Instantly forgetting to feel guilty at being caught, Leo blurted out, "are you dead?!" His eyes were wider than they'd been all evening, he was sure. Because, come on, that was a walking, talking, skeleton man!!!

The aforementioned skeleton man, somehow, raised an eyebrow. "No, I am not dead. Have you never seen a skeleton yokai before?"

"No," Leo responded, eyes still wide. "What's a yokai?"

"Que pasa con este niño," the yokai muttered under his breath, then continued in a normal tone, "Yokai is what we are. You, me, and everyone in this restaurant is a yokai."

"Oh. Hey, what was that language you were talking in?"

The yokai looked at him weirdly, but Leo really did want to know! He'd only said one sentence but it sounded so cool! Leo already knew he wanted to learn it.

"Spanish. Why are you here, niño?"

"Uhhhhhh... Dad... sent me?" Leo cringed a little at the blatant lie, and decided to distract him with another question. "Can you say something in Spanish?!"

The yokai sighed. "Tell me your name and I'll consider it."

He beamed. "I'm Leo! What's your name?"

"You can call me Señor Hueso."

"Whoa, is your name in Spanish?! Wait wait wait you gotta say something in Spanish now! I told you my name!"

"Deberías estar en le cama, tortuguita."

"Coooool! What does that mean?"

"It means 'you should be in bed, little turtle'. Let's go, out, time for you to go home." Hueso began pushing at Leo's shoulders, nudging him towards the door.

"Whaaaat? Come on, you can't kick me out! I just got here!" Leo dug his heels in, refusing to be pushed.

"This is a restaurant, not a daycare. I do not have time to be babysitting lost children. Out!" With one final shove, Señor Hueso let go of Leo and prepared to shut the portal.

The turtle mutant stumbled and whirled around as soon he was free. "Wait! You're just gonna let a child wander around New York alone? At night? Isn't that illegal?"

"Well, since you won't tell me where your parents are..." Hueso trailed off with a raise of his eyebrow, waiting to see if Leo would offer any more information.

Leo huffed in defeat. He didn't want to admit it, but he was getting tired, as it was already far past his usual bedtime. "Fine, fine, I'm going! But I'll be back tomorrow!"

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

Leo did in fact come back the next day. Hueso wasn't there when Leo scampered in behind a weird frog yokai, so the slider was quick to scurry off into the restaurant, hoping he could hang out for a little while before Hueso found him and kicked him out again.

To be continued...?

#rottmnt #hidden city hijinks au #hiddencityhijinksau #rottmnt leo #rottmnt señor hueso #señor hueso #run of the mill pizza rottmnt #turtle tots #turtle tot leonardo #turtle tot leo #fanfiction #its a draft tho #i still havent totally figured out how to use tumblr #its been months #have a poll ig

62 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 9 months

Text

The Dreaming Estate

Dream of the Endless x Gadling!Reader + Corinthian x Gadling!Reader

Summary: You inherit the Dreaming Estate from your recently deceased mother. She instructs you to perform a ritual for the house every month. One month, you fail to do so and receive a call from... The Dreaming Estate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: alternate universe, fem!reader, mystery/thriller?/horror? themes, protectiveness, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: lmao if you like this thank @sloanexx for kinda pressuring me to finish this. cross-posted on ao3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @roguelov

12am. A full moon. The final day of the month. The phone begins to ring. Ring! Ring! Ring! No one answers. The ringing stops. It begins again. It rings until someone answers. You finally wake up. You roll over on the bed. Your lover clings onto you tighter. You grab your phone and answer the call from an unsaved contact, "hello?" His voice is deep and rich, "this is The Dreaming." It wakes you up, "w h a t ?" "This is The Dreaming." You pull your phone away. 12:05am. +1230XXXXX. "... who is this?" "The Dreaming." "The dreaming?" you sit up from the bed. "Yes." "What does that mea-" Goosebumps form when he calls your name, "Miss Gadling, you need to come home." "... who is this?" "The Dreaming." "As in the Dreaming Estate?" you sound panicked. "How are you calling me from the Dreaming? Who are you?" "I am The Dreaming." "..." "Come home."

"Baby, can you get me my coffee?" Cori points to the counter. I get his mug and the car keys, then hand him his drink.

"Thanks, sugar," he says, pulling his one earpod out as he turns from his laptop to me. He moves forward to give me a kiss and I knock the glasses off his face when I place my hand on his cheek.

I readjust his glasses as I pull away.

"Call me when you get there," Cori mutters as he turns back to his screen.

"I will," I head for the door and turn over my shoulder as I point, "make sure to take out the trash, okay?"

Cori puts the other earpod on and raises a thumb though he does not respond to me, "ah, yes, Mr. Takashi. We opened the branch in downtown New York about-"

The door closes.

I get to the parking and drive out of my apartment building, heading out of the city.

I grunt as I reach a red light, "fuck." This was going to be a long drive.

I can't fucking believe I was going to sacrifice my day off all because of that stupid prank call. I clench my jaw and turn to my bag in the passenger seat. I reach for the book in my bag, rubbing my finger on the browning pages.

It can't be because of this. And yet... I can't shake the feeling.

I drive when the light turns green.

"Relax," I mutter to myself, "the police didn't find anything," I take a left turn, "it was probably someone..." pulling a prank? But how did they get my number? How did they unlock the door? I swear I remember locking it when I left because my coat got stuck the last time.

"Fucking hell," I come to a halt when I am met with a bottle neck, "it's fucking Wednesday. Why is it so traffic?! Geez."

What if- I turn to the book in my bag again - it is because of this?

I take in a breath. Calm down. Forgetting to do the weird ritual last month has nothing to with this call.

And yet when I pull up to the Dreaming, parking just outside the gates, it's the first thing I want to do. I grip my handbag as I walk up the path to the front door. My phone was ringing Cori.

Though I knew the front door was open, I had the mansion's key in my hand. I turn the knob, finding it was, in fact, unlocked. I stuff my keys in my pocket.

Cori finally picks up, "hello?"

"I'm here at the estate," I retort as I step in. As nervous as I was to drive up here alone, I felt nothing while surveying the house. I didn't feel the creeps, didn't feel like an axe murderer was about to pop up. It just felt like home. After all, I grew up here. And although the land was large, it wasn't like I didn't have neighbors.

"Oh, that's good. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I walk into the grand foyer, looking at the large curved staircase that connected to the second floor landing. I look up at the high ceilings and the chandelier that cascaded down like shooting stars. I walk into the kitchen, "everything really just looks normal."

"Well, it better," Cori chuckles, "the police in the area better not play because all the residents there are rich fucking Karens."

I snort as I survey the marble counters and head for the fridge I knew was unplugged and empty. I open the door. Yep, still unplugged and empty. It would be funny had someone left a cake though... I think.

"I'm just gonna do the ritual and come back home."

"Okay, sugar. You still want to cook steak tonight? I can go to the supermarket to buy some stuff."

"Yeah," I place my bag on the counter, "can you buy some cake too?"

"The red velvet one from 15th?"

I look at the empty cake stand from across the room. Its glass was collecting dust, "no. Blueberry cheesecake. I'm feeling sentimental." My mom used to make the best blueberry cheesecake.

"Okay then. See you later, bunny."

"Mmm, bye. Love you."

"I love you too."

I huff as I place my phone down and pull out the book.

The voice of my mother rings in my head: We must love and protect the Dreaming because it loves and protects us. When a bunch of evil men tried to burn the house, Granny Lucy survived because the house saved her.

I clench my jaw as I flipped the pages. I huff as I get to the bookmarked page, "don't question it," I tell myself, "just- just- it's better not to be the one who breaks this weird generational chain-" I look around the room and find a chill run down my spine. I shake it off and look back at the page.

My thumb rubs the paper and my face tightens when I feel something wet on it. I smell my finger, "shit." My hand sanitizer got on the page.

"Fuck," I lean forward and try to wipe the paper. The ink smudges. "Fuuuuck."

I go through my bag but find no tissues. It's fine. It's fine. I kind of have the words memorized anyway. Let's just say this awful Latin hex-shit and be done with it. I take the book in my hand and read the words the way I always did.

For the most part, I don't need the book to know what to recite but then I reach the part where I smudged and, just my luck, I can't fucking remember what to say. I know I'm not supposed to stop- fuck- don't ask why, I'm just not- but a pit of dread bubbles in me over the idea of saying something wrong. I decide to omit the words that were smudged in the end.

I look around the kitchen when I finish.

I grab my bag and my book and check the other rooms.

I go to the living room, the washing room, the study, the library, the main bathroom, all five bedrooms, the garden backyard, the pool-- every place... but nothing. Nothing happened. The house was just the house. And, honestly, I felt nothing. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, so I go home.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Your eyes widen at the caller contact. "the dreaming guy". You instantly pick up, "hello?" "The incantation didn't work. I am still here." Your stomach drops, "what?" "Come home." You suck in a breath. He had to call during your lunch break. "I will wait for you in human form." Your heart drops. "What?" "I will wait for you to return to me in my human form." "..." "Unless the thought disturbs you." "..." "..." "..." "..." "... are you... Dream?" "I am." I shudder, "the Dreaming..." "I am also." Fuck.

I drive to the Dreaming Estate after work. I try calling Cori to tell him about it, but he didn't pick up. I don't blame him though. He was swamped at work. I mean I was too, which was why this was insane of me to do right now. I left him messages though. Hopefully, he'll call.

I pull up outside the gates again, but this time, I sit in the car, clenching the wheel. My body is unwilling to get out. Why? Because of him.

A dark figure walks over to me. He is tall, pale, and dark haired. My heart races as he nears. I check to see if my door is locked. It is.

As he gets closer and I can finally make out his face, I rack my brain, trying to think if I've seen him before. The longer I look, more I am convinced this is the first time I've seen him.

He stands in front of the gate; he opens it for me.

"Miss Gadling!" he calls, "would you like to drive inside?!""

That was definitely the caller.

I don't respond to him. I do nothing but stare at him.

"Will you stay in the car the whole time?!"

I stare at him for a moment. He stares right back at me. I undo my seatbelt and grab my bag. I peak my head out of the window. I don't know why, but I find myself asking, "what were the missing words in the ritual?!"

The man tilts his head. He leans on the metal grill. A wind blows his coat back, "in luce et tenebris!"

I pull out my book and look at the page. I examine the blotted area, "it does look like that."

"You cannot perform the incantation outside!" the man calls, "please, come in!"

My eyes dart up to him. I suck in a breath. This was probably the worst idea ever. I look at my phone. No calls or texts from Cori. I huff and step out of the car.

The man is pleased to see this.

I slowly walk over to him.

He smiles. It is warm. As I examine his expression, it feels free of malice. And though his aura did not feel eerie, I am skeptical of him.

He reaches a hand out to me, "would you like for me to carry your things?"

I clutch my bag to my chest as well as the book still in my hand, "I got it."

"Very well," he says, making way for me to enter.

I watch him as he closes the gate, I watch him as he motions to the front door, I watch him as he walks off first and leads me in, I watch as he opens the door to my home, I watch him as he peruses through like it was his.

"I apologize that was unable to prepare anything for you," he says.

I knit my brows, "what do you mean?"

"You have not stocked food in the kitchen. I was only able to gather some strawberries from the garden."

See, any sane person would have called the cops by now, if they had a moment of stupidity not to do it before arriving here. But the thing was, he took strawberries in the garden, which means he knew where the strawberries were. The strawberries were behind a hedge in the backyard; you would have to go over the hedge to see them.

"How do you know where the strawberries are?"

The man straightens, "I know where all things are in the estate."

"Pah. Everything?" I raise a brow.

"Everything," he nods.

I scoff, adjusting the straps of my bag on my shoulder, "then do you know where Grandpa Hob was buried?"

"He was not buried. His ashes were scattered in the garden."

My breath hitches. I take a step back.

The man merely looks at me.

He's- no... He must have... how could he have-

"Where is the garden gnome placed?" I find myself blurting.

"In the attic. Behind boxes."

I give him a look. Nah... he could have looked there. "What about my diary?"

"Which one?"

"What?"

"You have one diary stuck in the gutter by the pool, and you have one hidden in the floorboards in the bedroom that used to be yours."

My skin pricks with goosebumps. My heart is racing. I take more steps back. I gasp and jolt when the floor creeks.

"Please," he raises a hand, "do not be frightened. I know you and you know me," he steps forward, "I am the Dreaming."

"Stop!" I bark, raising a finger, "don't come any closer."

He stops.

I breathe heavily and bring the book to my hands, opening it. I look at the page where the ritual is. I begin to read it.

"It will not work."

I ignore him and continue to read.

"You spoke it once before. It will work only at the end of the month now."

I ignore him still and continue reading, making sure to add the part I was unable to say last time.

"Those were not the words."

"SHUT UP!" I snap and turn to him.

He stiffens and looks down, "apologies."

I huff and lean against the wall. The man looks up at me as I do this. I bring one hand behind me and use my nail to pick at the wall, "when I asked if you were Dream and you agreed, what were you agreeing to?"

The man fidgets then rolls his shoulders back, "this. My human form is Dream."

He even knew that. My uncles used to tell me that the house was sometimes a man called Dream. I take in his features, the curve of his nose, the gleam of his eyes. To be honest, I didn't know what Dream should look like, save for the fact he was apparently very strong. This man looked like a he could barely lift things with how scrawny he was.

"What does the ritual do?" I clutch the book in one arm.

"It binds my spirit to the house."

I give him a look, "so you're a spirit?"

"I am," he nods.

"So you're a ghost?"

"I am not. I am the Dreaming."

"But you said you were a spirit."

"I am the spirit of the Dreaming."

I straighten up and release a breath. I go through my bag and pull out a pen, "so if I do this," I chuck the pen at him, "it'll go through you-"

It his him on the cheek and he grunts. He rubs his cheek and gives me a look, "that was most disrespectful."

"... ... ... sorry."

Dream sighs, "all is well."

I chew on my lip and begin to pace around. My eyes never leave him once. His don't either. He watches me walk around him. He places his hands behind his back. I raise a brow, "why did you call me here then if I can't... bind you back?"

"You are my master," he tilts his head back, "my function is to serve you. I will fade if I have no function."

I stop in my tracks and furrow my brows, "what does that mean?"

"It means if my spirit fades and someone breaks in, nothing will stand in their way."

"So you saying you're the protector of the estate?"

"Indeed."

"I thought you were the estate?"

"Is it not instinctive to protect oneself?"

We stare at each other for a moment.

I am meant to question him some more, but then Dream turns around and looks outside of the window. He mutters lowly, "someone is trying to open the gate."

"What?" I run to the other window.

"He is calling your name."

I look outside and see the man, "it's Cori!"

Dream turns to me, "who?"

I turn to him, "did you lock the gate?"

"I am barring him out."

"What?!" I shake my head and make a face, "let him in!"

Dream furrows his brows at this. I give him a look. He relaxes his expression and sighs. I turn to the window when I hear the telltale creak of the gate. I then run out the door and meet Cori halfway.

The moment I'm close enough, I hug and kiss him.

Cori embraces and kisses me back. When he pulls away, he looks at me with worry, "I saw your texts. What happened? Did you call the police? Is someone-" he stops himself when he looks up.

I turn around and look where he was. There was Dream, staring back at us.

"Who the fuck is that?" Cori mutters as he grabs and pulls me behind him.

And I don't know why, I really don't know, but I retort, "he's the butler."

Cori turns to me, "what?"

I look at him, "turns out... we have a family butler and he-" I turn to Dream back to Cori, "-he's the one who called."

Cori shifts in his spot, "you mean he's the guy posing to be the fucking house?"

I shake my head, "no. It was a misunderstanding. I-"

"Greetings, sir."

The both of us turn to the dark haired man who was now in front of us. Cori raises a brow at him while looking him once over. He bows, eyes not leaving Cori as he does so, "I am Dream," he straightens up, "keeper of the estate, in servitude of Miss Gadling."

Cori chuckles, "Dream, huh? Funny you should say that," he extends a hand, "Corinthian Dream," he tilts a head towards me, "Miss Gadling's beau."

Dream stares at Cori's hand for a moment. He looks up at him when takes it, shaking it once before pulling away.

"Shall I prepare bedrooms for the two of you?" Dream asks, turning to me with a softer expression.

"Nah," Cori answers, "I just need you to explain this mess of a prank call and we'll be on our way," he places his hands in his pockets.

A dread builds in my stomach as I watch the two stare at each other. Dream's expression darkens. Cori's face hardens as he adjusts his shades.

Knowing him, I was getting nervous. "Cori," I tug at his arm.

He ignores me as Dream gives a pinched smile, "of course," he motions to the house, "shall we talk inside?"

Cori tilts his head and smirks, "sure thing, butler."

172 notes · View notes

phantomfallacy · 2 years

Text

Where are my cat!Roksoo fics. That was not a question, it was a statement. I see ppl compare Rok Soo to a cat and really, I’m digging the idea but y’all giving the food but telling me to cook it myself?

…I’ll contribute seasoning—

He’s not a beast person, he’s a legit cat. No opposable thumbs for this kitty. No deus ex machina to make him do legit work later. Give him the slacker life he deserves. Let him live it easily even though he gets dropped off in Rain City’s slums.

Despite that, On and Hong immediately know that he’s intelligent—or they bother him enough to know it eventually.

As if his resourcefulness and caring nature didn’t make it obvious enough that he has high enough emotional intelligence to share his food with the siblings instead of hissing at them for approaching like other alley cats in the slums—

Does he scrounge for food in the trash? Yeah. But they’re almost never bad. No mold, no rot, no dirt. Of course when the food they manage to find is nothing but waste he does find other sources like hunting in the wild. Maybe eventually he urges the kids to turn human so they can cook it. He doesn’t do this often though bc while cats used to be wild and capable hunters he’s just a house cat now. Most he’ll catch are small birds and rodents.

He teaches the kids how to scam. With the magic of cat. Big eyes, cute meows—next thing you know Hans has brought them into the Henituse Estate. After that they endear themselves to the Henituse kids—Cale included.

Kim Rok Soo wants to stay away from the minor villain but honestly the absolute misery from the guy is bothering his afternoon nap so he makes it his daily mission to trip the redhead until he gets a pat.

One day Cale really does trip in the middle of a drunken act and Rok Soo just sits on him. Cale is resigned bc he is not a Cat, and therefore does not have the Divine Right to command anything, much less a cat off his throne.

Eventually Cale warms up to Kitty Rok Soo bc he gets to further his villain act by petting the cat in his lap with a deviously trashy smile—yes, Rok Soo followed him out to the bar. No, he couldn’t stop Rok Soo.

Cats have nine lives. Anybody trying to hurt KRS would be unlucky enough to suffer divine retribution bc black cats are “bad luck.” Heh.

Obviously Ron would know all three of the cats aren’t normal but seeing the growing affection between the Henituse family and the felines he kinda just accepts it like he does in canon and tries to teach the kiddos assassination techniques.

He tries to teach KRS too even after learning he’s a normal—if abnormally intelligent—cat, but KRS runs to Cale every time. After the first time that Ron almost caught KRS, KRS makes sure there’s always ten escape routes that take him to either Cale or Deruth in a minute or less at any moment in time.

Or you know what, KRS’s favorite Ron-deterrent is Violan bc she doesn’t fool around with him like Deruth. Favorite pastime is watching her sculpt bc the noises are hypnotic and it’s like watching discovery channel in live 4k HD. Deruth is only for when he’s in an emergency where neither Cale nor Violan are around. Or when he wants pats.

He stays away from Beacrox bc hello germaphobe torture expert?? No cats allowed in the kitchen?!?!? Little does he know that Beacrox does have a soft spot for the kittens and leaves snacks outside the kitchen for them and the first time KRS takes the offerings he’s so pleased that Ron pets KRS, who is scared shitless but that’s just how it is.

#trash of the count's family #tcf #lout of the count’s family #lcf #kim rok soo #cale henituse #tcf hong #tcf on #tcf headcanon #tcf au #cat kim rok soo #original cale henituse #cat au #will cat kim rok soo still fight for world peace? yes #by the power invested in his paw pads

948 notes · View notes

tmntxthings · 2 years

Note

hi! can you do a rottmnt x sibling!reader where splinter wasnt able to rescue them from draxum and so the reader grew up to be draxums assistan, i need the sibling angst

has a bonus they have a redemtion arc like draxum

Lost & Found

author’s note: anon, i think you’re a absolute genius, this might be super long (I’m writing this before I start heh) honestly there are a lot of ways this could play out, but I’m going to hone in on your request for some sibling angst and let that take me where it will! thank you so much for requesting c; hope you enjoy~

p.s. >.< i haven’t finished season 1 on netflix (I’m rlly close tho like episode 23 I think) sooo im kinda lost in the sauce with ‘draxum redemption arc’ life’s been super busy as of lately I hardly have time to write much less watch the show *cries* but I shall find out what you mean sooner or later!!!

warnings: angsty angst, cursing, violence, abuse, sibling!reader, comfort ending

> part two <

—————————————————————————

[13 years ago]

After Draxum had injected him with the ooze, there was only so much time Lou Jitsu.. no, Splinter had left. To escape, to grab the turtles and each one was in a different capsule. Splinter was weak, he didn’t have time, and had barely broken into the fourth’s when Draxum burst into his lab. Lights were flashing red, everything was so loud. Draxum was quick to block off the last cage, that held the fifth child, the final turtle. Splinter didn’t want to leave you. He hurt everyday knowing your fate was in the hands of the lunatic named Draxum. And yet he had hope, that someday, you would finally be reunited with your brothers. But they weren’t ready, none of them were. Splinter was too old now, he had run out of time. It would be up to them, Splinter decided, when they finally showed him they were ready, and capable of facing you. Because Splinter knew that whatever you had turned into, it would be something completely different than his sons. A powerful mutant under the influence of the mad scientist and manipulator, Draxum.

。・゜・(pov change: you)・゜・。

[the present]

You knelt before your creator. “I’ve got a mission for you,” you kept your head bowed, knowing the consequences of looking up too soon. You had been on the receiving end of many ‘lessons’ and you were too old to be beaten for anything other than failure. And that was something that only happened on rare occasion. “Get rid of the pests that keep interfering with my work.” Draxum sounded irritated. It was unusual, he normally didn’t seem phased by anything, and if he had a tone it was arrogant and full of smug confidence. “Yes Draxum,” you rose to your full height. Looking up into those cold, calculating eyes that had raised you. “Don’t disappoint me.” If you fail I will squeeze your shell until another crack forms. You could read between the lines, hear the underlying threat. “I won’t.” you muttered as you turned your back on him, leaving the Hidden City, going into the human realm. New York City is a real piece of work and that’s putting it politely, you thought as you emerged into an alleyway. The smell of trash flooding your senses. “Alright fellow turtles, prepare for your demise..”

。・゜・( pov change: everyone )・゜・。

“This is greatttt,” Leo said sarcastically. Waving his ōdachi around making little portals. He was utterly bored. “Sometimes Leo, heroes have to wait for crime to happen,” Raph was leaning down over the edge of the rooftop looking down at the streets below. “In any case, isn’t that a good thing! No crime means no bad guys,” Mikey said rocking back on his heels, nonexistent eyebrows waggling at Leo. His older brother rolled his eyes, “then what are we here for let’s go back to the lair!”

“Hold on I’m picking up something,” Donnie said looking down at his wrist tech. Leo waited a whole 5 seconds before complaining, “yeah a whole bunch of nothing!” Raph shot a look at Leo, telling him to shut up silently, the blue turtle only stuck out his tongue. “Bingo!” Donnie’s wrist tech flared up in a flash of color, “What was that Leo?? A bunch of what??” He goaded his twin, smiling smugly. “Let’s hear it Don,” Raph prompted not wanting to waste anymore time. “Two streets away, northwest, someone’s breaking into-“ “Bla, bla, bla time to goooo!” Leo cut Donnie off and waved his sword into a big circle. “Oh no no no, it’s only two streets awayyyyy~!” Donnie yelled out as they all fell into Leon’s portal.

“That was fun,” Donnie grumped, while Mikey snickered. The portal had put them 7 streets away from their target, and effectively ruining any sort of hero work that night. “Look if I don’t practice how am I gonna get better at it,” Leo said thinking he was being pretty logical. “How about practice before an actual patrol? Huh? Ever thought about that my dumb dumb of a brother?” Leo peered over at Mikey and started mimicking Donnie’s voice. Mikey had to hold in his laughter, hand slapping over his mouth loudly. “Enough you two,” Raph chided, “it’s already over with let’s just get back to the lair, we’ll try again tomorrow.” When Leo grabbed for his sword this time, Raph stopped him, shaking his head, “practice on your own time like Donnie said,”

“Tch,” was the only reply Leo could come up with. He wanted to say something like, you guys are just jealous my power is ten times awesome-er than everyone’s combined. But he held himself back, somehow, someway. Who was he kidding, “you guys are ju-“

Something whizzed past Leo’s face connecting into Mikey’s and slamming him back and onto the ground he skidded a couple of feet before coming to a stop. “OW!” Mikey groaned as his brothers came running, a collective “Mikey!” yelled out in worry. They formed a circle around the youngest, “What the fuck was that?!” Raph said as he looked around for any signs, any clues to what had just pummeled his little brother. “Felt like a fist to me,” Mikey coughed as Donnie knelt down over him, making sure he was okay and then helping him up. Leo was on guard too, “why don’t you pick on someone your own size!” he barked out. “You saw it??” Raph said still searching, only giving Leo a glance. “No but I’m guessing whatever it was chose Mikey for a reason,” Leo explained, eyes narrowing in on a billboard.

Raph nodded his head and they were off, both jumping up and weapons drawn for anything that was on the other side. “Huh, nothing,” Leo commented as Raph huffed in frustration. The moment they had left Mikey’s side, Donnie had a matter of milliseconds before he was thrown back on his shell. The air being knocked straight out of his lungs as Mikey’s eyes widened and yelled for his brothers as he threw out his mystic kusari-fundo hoping to wrap whatever it was that kept throwing them to the ground. But as the chain wrapped around its target Mikey hadn’t been prepared to be jolted forward at such speed, he was practically half-dragged, half-flying after whatever he had caught. “GUYS,” he screamed in panic as he zoomed forward, leaving his brothers in the dust as they called out for him to let go. But Mikey didn’t listen and when he finally landed on a rooftop, somehow on his feet, he was tense, and more than a little scared to be facing whatever this was without his brothers.

You looked down at the chains wrapped around your torso. Bright orange, your shell facing your opponent not worried in the slightest. “I see you’ve stolen something,” you commented and Mikey just held onto his weapon tighter. “Borrowed actually,” he corrected- a turtle?! Mikey blinked and his grip loosened immediately. He saw the state of your shell, his stomach rolled, his own shell tightened as if he could feel your pain. You felt the slack and turned only your face. Black bandana waving in the wind. “You” Mikey said stunned, “you’re like us!” He couldn’t help it, a smile of recognition replaced his frightened features. You scowled, not returning the sentiment. One second you were yards away from Mikey and the next you were throwing him onto the rooftop again. He cried out in pain, “I’m nothing like you.” And even though he was hurt, his innocence was too pure to be shot down. “But you’ve got a shell, and a bandana,” he groaned out as he forced himself up. Noticing you had released yourself from his binds the moment you had him on the ground.

“Get away from our brother,” Raph hollered as he came down as a huge red figure of power. You side stepped, letting the cement feel his wrath instead. So the orange wasn’t the only one who stole. A purple drill came next, you jumped into the air it missed your feet by centimeters as you came back down, your eyes widened in surprise for the first time this fight, as you didn’t touch the ground but went through a blue circle. Suddenly blue was all you could see, and you activated your power, a black shadow surrounding your body and time slowed, you watched as the portal ended and the blue one was ready and waiting with a sword held out. You landed with grace, crouching immediately but you didn’t need to, while in your power form you were faster than all of them combined. You kicked the blue straight in the groin, feeling somewhat irritated that he had gotten the best of you for a split second. He went down as you continued to move, not wanting to be caught off guard again, you went back to normal form after you put two rooftops in between you and the four.

It was a stare off. All but the Red had felt how powerful just your fists and feet were. It was his turn, and then you would destroy them completely. “What do you want!” Raph roared, angry that he hadn’t been able to protect his little brothers. “Nothing from you,” you let your voice be carried by the wind. Unable to find such passion like the Red one, no one but Draxum could make you howl like he just had. In fear and anger, in anguish and pain. You took a step forward, all but the Red flinched. You found that quite funny. “Then just leave us alone,” Raph begged, standing over Mikey and Leo while Donnie stood a little staggered next to him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” you said taking another step forward. Why were you wasting time like this? Answering his buffoon questions, for what? You gritted your teeth from your own condescending thoughts. “Why?!” The red exasperated. “Because,” you glared reaching for the sole tantō (short sword) behind your shell. You only unsheathed it when necessary, but all these questions were grating your nerves, “I was ordered to.” And maybe that was what pissed you off the most. As you lunged forward eyes seething with pitch black rage.

Raph braced himself calling onto his power to create a shield from the shadow that was hurtling towards him faster than anything he had ever seen. He tried to keep his eyes open, but at the last second he flinched closing them tightly hoping his shield would hold. “Boys?” Splinter said in confusion. They had all just been saved by Leo’s well-timed portal and if it wasn’t for the near death experience he would have boasted about it proudly. Raph fell back on his haunches, his weapons dropping limply from his hands. Mikey was the first to recover, “Dad you’ll never guess what just happened!” Bruised everywhere he exclaimed, “we met another turtle!” “Met?” Donnie shook his head, “that Michael, was not a meeting, that was a blindside!” He had to hold his side wincing when he raised his voice.

Splinter fell back into his recliner. “So you finally crossed paths,” it had been a weak whisper. Silence stretched on after that as Splinter relived that haunting night. Where time hadn’t been on his side, not enough to save everyone. “What do you mean dad?” Raph asked, breaking the silence. “The night I rescued you all and myself from Draxum’s lab, I hadn’t saved everyone that night,” his voice sounded far away. The brothers all looked at each other, shock and confusion written on their faces. “Are you saying, that we just met our sibling out there tonight?” Donnie expounded, eyes bugging out. Splinter nodded. Another collective silence. “Well, they wanna kill us,” Leo put plainly, trying to get up. “No they don’t!” Mikey said defensively. All three of his brothers turned on him with crazed expressions. “I’m serious! You heard them, they were ordered to come after us!” Mikey had his hands out as if it were obvious. Splinter kept silent, Leo looked doubtful, while Raph and Donnie both shook their heads.

“It doesn’t matter Mikey, if Leo hadn’t portaled us outta there, we would’ve been turtle soup.” Raph said, and he wasn’t joking. “Yeah but, maybe if we talked to them, showed them that Draxum isn’t their real family, then maybe-“ Mikey was cut off by Donnie, “No. Mikey listen to yourself! You wanna go back out there after three of us got pummeled and Raph was about to get sliced?!” Mikey’s cheeks puffed out in frustration, they weren’t listening to him. “…maybe Mikey’s right,” Leo pipped up looking at his little brother. “What if one of us had been left behind?” Splinter winced. Leo paused, continuing after awhile, “shouldn’t we at least try?” Donnie scoffed, “try what exactly, reason with the trained killer of a psychopath who wants us dead?!” Mikey nodded. Raph blew out a long breath. “Not anytime soon,” he said giving in, he couldn’t help it, looking at it the way Leo had put it. He’d try. “Once we are healed a hundred percent and Leo practices his portals more… then we can try talking,” Donnie glared at them all. “If this backfires I don’t care if it’s my last dying breath, I’m saying I told you so,” with that he was off to his lab. Mikey smiled to himself, hoping this would work, that you would listen, and see that they were your real family.

After Raph’s orders were carried out, all of them healed up to the max, and Leo did practice on his portaling, it was time. “So how’re we gonna find them??” Mikey questioned as they all exited the manhole, Raph the last out and covering it up. “The Hidden City,” Raph said, since they knew who was behind your strings aka Draxum. “Righttt,” Mikey agreed. “We’re breaking into Draxum’s,” Donnie explained further for his little brother to catch up to speed. They all knew he had zoned out when the plan was being discussed, Mikey was too excited. Which had all of his older brothers worried for the impending disappointment they all expected. “Alright, breaking into Draxy’s,” Mikey said rubbing his hands together in mischief, finally up to speed.

They went the same route they had came when April had been with them. It seemed like they were always trying to rescue someone from here, first Mayhem, now you. All the turtles peered down into what had been an exploded lab last they left it. Now it was fully refurbished and off to the side you came into view.

Horror. Raph tried reaching for Mikey to cover his eyes, but it was too late. He had seen, your limbs were spread far apart, vines wrapped tightly around your wrists and ankles. But what held all of the turtles stares was the thick vines that were in a vice-like grip around you torso, around your shell. Draxum appeared from a doorway. “Not tight enough?” He commented as your head hung to the floor, but as the grip tightened around your shell you gasped, head lurching up once more. This had been going on for days, ever since you had returned, since you had failed. “Why are you being punished,” Draxum questioned as you panted in pain, it was getting to the point where you would pass out. “ANSWER ME” his voice raised in authority and anger, “I-“ the vines tightened again and you finally screamed out in agony. New streams of tears flooded down your cheeks. “Say it.” He seethed, “I f-failed you,” you sobbed. Head falling in front of your body unable to keep it raised any longer. “You are pathetic and weak. You expect me to believe those pests outsmarted you?” He spat in disgust. “They had mystic weapons,” you tried to explain, you hadn’t realized how vital the blue one could be for escape. You were paying for it now. “Excuses,” Draxum shook his head, “I gave you a mystic weapon, I trained you and this is the result I get?” Your head was swimming in pain, it was becoming hard to breath and you knew what was coming next, the sound haunted you in your sleep. Crack! “Please!” You begged, knowing it was useless because you had been through this before, “I’ll do better, I’ll get them next time just give me one more chance!” You’d say anything, promise anything if it meant you could save yourself from the living nightmare you were experiencing.

An fiery orange chained whipped out of nowhere and snagged Draxum up and off the ground. “Leave them alone!” He cried out, tears pouring down his own face as he yanked his weapon backwards, continuing to pull Draxum away from you. Raph’s fist was three times its size, and punched the sheep yokai, slamming him to the floor of his lab. Donnie and Leo were quickly cutting away at the vines that held you hostage. Leo catching you before you fell to the ground. “Let’s go!” Leo called out as Donnie positioned himself defensively, his mystic tech aimed at Draxum’s figure that was still on the ground. He turned and faced the turtles he had created, his face pure fury, “Y/N!” He bellowed and that was the last thing you remembered before you slipped into unconsciousness.

[one week later]

“They should be waking up any moment now,” a not so familiar voice said informatively. “But when exactly??” someone whined. “They’ve been through a lot just give them time,” someone else chided. “Look” another voice said, and as your eyes moved underneath your eyelids, listening intently and very much awake, you realized they must’ve noticed you were up. “Hello?” you squinted open one eyelid, and orange was so close you could see down to his esophagus. “Mikey, give ‘em some space!” red said exasperated as if he had said it a million times already. “What did I tell you guys, any moment!” purple said as a matter-of-factly. “We get ittt,” sighed blue. All of them had curious eyes on you, the red had one weapon drawn, and purple had a finger hovering over a button. Blue had his arms crossed and orange was still in your face. “We saved you!” He explained, “from Draxum’s crazy” “psycho” “sadistic” “ass.” They all had a word for your creator. And they all seemed to be waiting for you to say something or do something. You slowly opened up both eyes, “please back away orange,” you phrased it as nicely as possible but the frown on his face couldn’t be missed. “Told ya,” Raph chuckled, silently putting away his weapon. “So how old are you?” “And what kind of turtle are you?” “What’s your mystic power exactly?” “Are you hungry?” Mikey pitched in last, recovering from your first sentence to him. It seemed to be the only question you would acknowledge as you nodded slightly. The rest looked at one another, with wary expressions. “Where am I?” you decided it was better to be the one who asked the questions. “In-“ a hand slapped over Mikey’s mouth. “Why don’t you go get them some pizza?” Raph said. “Oh right! Be right back!” He said bouncing away. The three older ones sighed in unison. “Look Y/n,” you blinked no one but Draxum had ever used your name. “You’ve gotta answer our questions first,” the red one claimed.

You wondered if you were fully recovered. Because if so, you’d rather just leave than have to sit through an interrogation like this. You could feel the unwelcomeness roll off these three. But as you did a mental check, you knew you would have trouble using your power and making a speedy escape. So you sighed, admitting defeat nonverbally. “I am 13 years old, a diamondback terrapin, and to put it shortly speed,” Donnie went to say he wanted the longer more detailed version because he obviously had gotten that. But Raph stopped him. You were Mikey’s age. Raph couldn’t believe it, how polar opposite the two of you were, and it crushed him to think how Mikey might have been in your place. “I see,” Raph murmured. “Now my turn?” You asked, prompting for an answer to your earlier question. “We’re in the sewers!” Mikey answered coming back into the room. Leo face palmed himself. “What?!” Mikey exclaimed, “they deserve to know!” and he handed you a plate stacked high with slices of pizza.

“Well I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” you gave Mikey an inquisitive glance as you stuffed your face. You hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. Raph and Mikey both smiled at the sight of you eating heartily. “Because we’re family!” Mikey explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And that had you swallowing, you looked around the room, these four were your brothers? “Draxum never told you?” Donnie asked quietly, and all you could do was shake your head. You kept looking all around, like suddenly everyone in the room looked different looked more familiar. And you hadn’t realized it when one tear streaked down your face. “Family?” You echoed. Draxum had never used familial terms between the two of you. He was your creator and you were his creation. Black and white, plain and simple. You always believed you were on your own. The thought of a family, it was too good to be true. “Yeah!” Mikey cried, the instant he saw the tear go down your cheek. And space bubbles be damned! He leapt on top of you hugging you close, “you’re our family!” Mikey said and the rest of the gang piled in, more tears were shed, even from Donnie. It was a miracle you thought, and maybe finally you could be happy, here with your family.

413 notes · View notes

chainelunaire · 1 month

Note

I have a question to ask? Remember that Carrie Underwood song “before he cheats” How would your Best friend the LOV members? Dabi, Shigaraki, Spinner, (separately) help you get revenge on your cheating EX?

this is fun, thank you for asking!

dabi: i think since he's a bit of an asshole he would at first try to some sort of... tease you about it? he's so nonchalant and aloof about any crap in his life, he assumes everyone around him are the same. well, it sure does sound like he's straight up mocking you, so when he sees how much this whole situation truly hurts you he finally stops. he doesn't like seeing you in pain, he claims that he doesn't care, but yeah he does. also, out of the three he's the best companion for a revenge. don't get me wrong, he'll happily help, but he won't do anything himself. this has some deeper meaning actually rather than his laziness. he believes it is important to not take the satisfaction from you, he knows the importance of this firsthand. this revenge is yours to take, it's your moment of pride. it's his gift for you, if you will. he'll help with planning everything tho. he's calculating and calm when he needs to be; very patient and can teach you a thing or two about waiting for the exactly right moment. sometimes he's almost too slow for your liking, but on the other hand everything he'd planned for you goes exactly like he predicted, so you better listen. due to his sadistic nature, he's not above playing with the victim, and he will teach you that too. big fan of creating suspense, some sort of pressure. like those old hollywood noir films come to mind. he will absolutely help to scare your poor ex from the shadows, slowly driving him crazy with anxiety. not only is he proud of your dark side shining so brightly, but he really finds it fun. depends on you, if you want for things to get really violent or not, but he'll at least try to persuade you to let go and enjoy the ride. and if you listen to him, things can get messy (only slightly, bc dabi really enjoys clean work and he's too lazy to go after anybody else than this scumbag). shigaraki could be annoyed for a day or two, but... actually, no, he won't be pissed at all. great job you two.

shigaraki: oh. he's beyond excited. not because of your suffering, of course, but bc now The Real Game begins. has his own ways to comfort you, the most obvious one being trashing you ex with the most degrading insults you may only think of. will never let you think that was your fault, he literally feels his blood boil every time he hears something like that. you don't even have to ask him to help you, one day he's suddenly in your room with an insanely throughout plan and most batshit crazy glimmer in his eyes, so you better take the chance while you can. he finds great joy in helping you by planning everything for you, it really is a new game to him. but this time he's doing it for a friend, for someone he finds dear, so he kinda wants to take the burden off your shoulders. unlike dabi, he will get involved directly in this mess, he doesn't think he's taking anything from you - quite the opposite. he's given you the opportunity. and, he probably won't admit it, but he's really willing to do all the work for you, if it's too painful for you now. he doesn't want to, but he could. buuut, he'd still rather wait (even though he's not a fan of waiting) and you do the main act yourself. he's not patient at all tho. he also prefers the revenge to be fast and brutal. not a fan of theatrics, he's a straight to a point kind of guy. also, unlike dabi, he absolutely will go after every single one person involved, jesus christ even your ex's parents included, this whole thing gets soooo messy omg. at some point it really feels like the whole city knows you were cheated on. he doesn't find it embarrassing at all, there's nothing to be ashamed of. at the very end, you'll be the one who's having the last laugh, so he's kinda right. whether you like it or not, things will get really violent when he's involved, and he won't stop until the last person who had offended you is down. he's like a hell hound, some sort of a death reaper. and even if your ex thinks he can escape, because he's the last in shigaraki's list, well... not really. no one can run away from shigaraki tomura, and in the end you find great satisfaction in this knowledge.

spinner: the only decent one who at least tries (once) to convince you not to do it. he does this mostly on autopilot, because he's a considerate friend. he feels nothing towards that shithead, but he's worried that you would regret it later. actually, the only one that expresses his worries about you to you, verbally. he's surprisingly good at communicating his feelings, and he feels awful for you, he really-really does. he doesn't want to make it even worse (even though he really wants to throw some particularly heavy things at some faces). when he's finally sure you won't change your mind, he's all about business. he's not a big fan of a bloodbath, but he believes in power public humiliation holds. sadly, he knows it firsthand. he's very meticious with all the blackmail and he's great with timing. the cleanest work one could imagine (only dabi compares, but he has understandably more experience). he too is great in driving your ex crazy with anxiety, but in a much more subtle way. he won't scare anyone directly, but his actions create a very negative, anxious environment to your ex. the whole thing is building up rather slowly, but consictently. if you want things to go a little more bloody, spinner may ask dabi or shigaraki for help actually, without revealing the main reason. it's still less messy if the whole gang was involved, but now it's definitely much scarier for your ex. he will set traps and will get your ex recorded, he will collect every piece of information he could find, and he will reveal it at the right moment. he's not above some fake leaks either - everything will work. he would definitely make sure that almost everyone in city knows your ex's dirty laundry. it's so not pretty in general, bc believe it or not, spinner is great at understanding people and how they think and behave. he knows that the crowd is always hungry and all he needs to do is to throw it a bone. it may even look like he's not done much, because it's your ex's surroundings who are tearing him apart, not you or spinner. as i said, he's not at all as sadistic as those two above, but he too will find some sick sort of enjoyment at the end. he really, really knows how it feels, and he knows very well that death can feel like a much more merciful option. living with such hate is a lot harder, than just dying, and spinner just proved you that.

#bnha #mha #bnha headcannons #mha headcanons #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha general #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #spinner x reader #dabi #shigaraki tomura #spinner #dabi headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #spinner headcanons #bnha requests

31 notes · View notes

j0kers-light · 4 months

Note

Hi! how do you think Joker would feel if reader was a runner? I’m not quite there yet but I hope to run a marathon at some point, so I end up having to spend a lot of time running. Which I don’t mind... but I get up before the sun rises and immediately go out to get my run in. Which I feel like J couldn't handle if he slept at the readers apartment that night. And I wonder if he'd be worried about reader being outside alone for long periods of time. I feel like races would be lonely for reader since he obviously couldn't just show up and cheer her on </3. And on a more personal note- I also wonder if he'd or if he'd notice the absurd amount of race t shirts i have 😂. And this is kind of a stupid thing I do, but sometimes I run when I’m sick. Even If have the flu or something I will still try to run it off, which I figure he wouldn’t approve of reader doing. And I’m very injury prone (very). So he might notice notice my slight Advil addiction lol

Sorry for the Kind of random a request. Maybe not a lot to write about, but I feel like I’ve never seen a story/headcannon about a reader who runs 🤔? I had this thought because the running shoes I like are soo expensive (especially when you have to buy them regularly 😵) and I thought of a scenario where he steals reader some shoes in bulk 😅. Anywho you don’t have to write all or any of this if you don’t care (this is basically a self insert of myself so change what you want) , I’m kinda rambling so this may not make any sense. And I love your stories btw 🩷

Hey hi anon!!!!! 🖤✨

You weren’t rambling love, I understood everything you said! AINT NOTHING WRONG WITH A SELF INSERT its why I'm here lol 🤭 thank you for sharing those tiny details, I shall follow them to the letter! Ah! Thank you for reading too!

Disclosure: I am not a runner and I have no idea about this topic so forgive me if anything is inaccurate. Did I drop what I was doing to fill this head canon? YES you're worth it! Representation matters so don’t hesitate to be self indulgent!

I hope you enjoy beloved! Keep runnin'! 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

With the clash of schedules-- Joker usually arrives at your apartment when you're stepping out for your morning run. You pass right by him and he's bewildered on where you're going this early in the day. The sun hasn't even risen yet and why aren't ya wearing anything?!?!! Your sports bra and jogger pants makes him seethe in anger. You look too sexy to be leaving the building!!

This poses a huge safety risk in Joker's mind because Gotham City is never safe but he knows by experience that this is the worst time to be out, alone! Why. Are. You. Out. Running. In. The. Dark? Looking like a defenseless snack? 👀 He flips out when you come back all sweaty yet energized. Whatever that means.... you still look hot. An easy target for sure.

He yells at you for putting yourself in danger until you explain that you're been training for the past few months and nothing has happened. How is it he’s just now noticing? Then you sheepishly explain the odd hours that you run. Mornings and/or nights with no protection whatsoever and Joker.exe stops working.

Joker takes no chances and assigns your security team to follow your training/run route effectively immediately. And as for your skimpy running attire? Girl.

You thought you owned enough race shirts. HA! Joker buys steals you modest running outfits but they do little to conceal your peaches (wink) or your killer legs, much to his dismay. You can wear a trash bag and still look sexy. He begrudgingly allows you to wear your tight outfits because they’re practical.

He stares you down anytime you do a warmup stretch before a run. Oh he'll stretch you out real good.... AHEM! Uh moving on..

Joker most definitely notices your hoard of running shoes. Just how many do you need and why are they so expensive? You explain that they wear down so quickly by running so you constantly need a new pair. Joker takes it upon himself (being the supportive partner that he is) to buy steal the entire store's supply of shoes in your size!

Imagine coming home to a mountain of shoe boxes and Joker's head poking around the corner. 😃 He's so proud of himself but you feel the oncoming headache. He's expressing his love through illegal, over the top gestures.... again. You love this idiot.

And speaking of grand gestures, since J can't attend your races— at least not publicly, he has become rather creative in showing his support. He bribes threatens people to cheer you on in his place or sets up unauthorized checkpoints along the route with banners, balloons, etc. with messages like ‘GO Y/N!’ or ‘Run faster, Bunny!’

It’s so embarrassing when the marathon speakers are hacked and the song, 'Track Star' by Mooski plays because Joker does not know the true meaning behind the lyrics! He just hears, 'she's a runner, she's a track star' and thinks it’s a compliment.

You almost forfeited the race when the urge to hide in shame hits you. The clown dedicated the song to you! Joker means well but this ain't it. The fireworks he rigged to go off when you won the race however were a sweet touch.

Little did you know— if you weren't expected to win, Joker had laughing gas on standby to poison the other runners so you could gain the lead as they fell behind laughing to death... His Bunny will win, no matter what. #SupportiveCrazyBF

Joker does not predict you sabotaging your own chances by running while sick. He doesn't understand your logic of ‘running your flu off.’ It doesn’t make any sense so he’s troubleshooting a plan to help you.

How did you sneak out!?! You should be at home, getting rest and fluids yet you’re knocking back Advil and pressing on like everything is fine. Let's just say Joker is more than furious with you love.

You knew Joker would eventually find out where you were. You shook off your security detail the moment he left and made it to the check in booth for the marathon while still under the weather.

It was just a seasonal flu. No biggie!

Joker was acting like a mother hen thinking you shouldn't lift a finger while sick and he even dressed up like a nurse to further prove just how serious he was about your health. He ordered you to stay in bed and rest— not sneaking out to attend a race. You knew he would be furious but what could he do once you started the competition?

They didn’t perform wellness checks so after everyone got into place and the starter gun went off, the race began.

It was Joker’s fault that he left his patient unattended. The race would only take a few hours and you would be back long before Joker returned from who knows what.

In hindsight, you didn't expect J and his goons to storm the pavilion where the registration booth and spectator zone were set up.

People were none the wiser when multiple vans pulled up, got out, and blended into the crowd. Only when Joker’s goons yielding guns and other weapons started wreaking havoc halfway into the race did things get crazy.

In the midst of the chaos, Joker casually walked up to your upcoming mile marker and waited for you to run by.

He'd only seen you run a handful of times but his keen eye instantly noticed you were more sluggish and less enthusiastic today. You were just going through the motions and looked ready to pass out.

No doubt because his Light was hardheaded and ran a marathon with a flu.

Good thing Joker was good at handling brats. He had no problem plucking you from thin air and hauling you (kicking and screaming) into his van. He hit the wall and it sped off back to your apartment in record time.

If you weren't sick maybe you would've had the energy to fight back more but Joker was able to swat your punches to his face away like a fly.

"J?! What the.. What is your problem!!?! You just ruined a charity race!" You coughed into your elbow as Joker watched in silence.

His face was unreadable and the both of you just swayed with the van's motion as it barreled through Gotham traffic.

Not a peep from your lover. This wasn't good. You were, in essence, in the principal's office. Joker went out of his way to snatch you— in broad daylight— from a public event and he had nothing to say. His intense gaze spoke volumes.

You immediately backtracked to save your skin.

"That wig looks great on you, J. It uh.. *cough* ahem, accentuates your features." You said weakly.

"Don't play with me, Y/n."

Oh. Government name. You f__ked up.

Joker ripped off his ginger wig and fluffed out his own hair underneath. It was a scare tactic, one that was working very well. He was prolonging the inevitable and you knew he was holding back the full severity of his anger.

Finally he licked his lips and spoke. "You wanna know whhhhhhhy it’s a bad idea to, run, while you’re sick hmm? Let’s see.. Respiratory problems, dizzy spells— tch, your accident prone a** can trip on thin air and crack ya head open. Do I need ta go on?"

He waved his hands at you until you shook your head meekly.

"Good! Now... if my Bunny had listeneddd to me.. and stayed in bed, your uhhh charity marathon? Wouldn't have been sabotaged. What's that saying of yours? Play stupid games, win stupid prizessss."

You turned your head in embarrassment but Joker reached over to turn it back towards him. Gone was his stern gaze and replaced with a much more softer expression.

"Think of it this way, Bunny. I came and supported my girl at her uh race." Joker cracked up laughing.

That was not the support you had in mind.

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#i hope you enjoy #ledger joker x reader #joker x y/n #joker x reader #black!fem!reader #nurse joker #ledger joker #dark knight joker #reader insert #heath joker #swf headcanon #joker be so proud of his bunny omg #his lighthouse

22 notes · View notes

sakurabunart · 3 months

Note

Hi!! Can I pester you for your headcanons on Spamton?

Sure!! I have plenty of random headcanons i've developed over time, so bear with me here-

Okay so its been a minute since i really considered these, so let me think. One thing i'll note is that i have this habit where i try to keep any takes i have on a character as canon as possible, so i've weeded out alot of the more outlandlish stuff over time. Starting under cut.

Starting off, I like to think that his cat element kinda aids in his life on the streets, in that he can manuver around the alleyways and whatnot of cyber city in more cat-like ways. Climbing walls, perching up on high vantage points, ect. Maybe the element is from a virus even? Anyway, off track.

Okay overall, less wordy headcanons.

-Spamton, through whatever process happened post Mike, is sorta a halfway point between robot and the strange digital entity that Addisons are. He's plastic and metal, but isn't entirely so. Can still move his face and whatnot.

-Addisons don't need sleep, but Spamton kinda does because of many different factors, the glitches being one of them. Its moreso just a luxury he held onto from the mansion days.

-I don't see it touched on much, but i like to think that he didn't go straight from the mansion to the trash, he had an in-between of living in some sketchy cyber-motels and trying to scrounge up easy work.

-I, for one, do in fact believe in the acid theory. Its simply brought up too much to be a red herring to me.

-Random nothing headcanon, i like to think of his current suit as just his big shot suit thats gotten dirty/stained over time, not a different one.

-Pipis are a virus in themselves, a worm virus specifically. It essentially makes whoever's infected with it completely endeared to the "eggs", thusly they keep the virus and spread it. I haven't developed it too much past that however.

-I liked a post earlier about this one, i think he'd enjoys art as well! He may not do it much, but i imagine he painted the wall behind the shopfront, so i imagine he probably does similar art stuff to try and emulate whatever divine visions he's seen.

Theres more, i know it, but i can't for the life of me think of em right now. I'll reply to this post later if i remember any good ones!

I appreciate the ask!

#first ask!! thanks friend!#spamton g spamton #spamton headcanons #spamton

24 notes · View notes

danoberry · 2 years

Text

play toy (edward nashton x reader) SMUT 18+

description: edward desperately missed you all day. when he gets home and finds you “asleep”, he takes matters into his own hands.

content: 18+ SMUT!!!, bondage, kinda dub!con??, post-riddler edward, assertive! edward, unprotected sex

pronouns: you/yours

genre: mature/nsfw

wc: 1.6k

afab parts

edward huffed as he drove home to his apartment complex. it was a long day. too long. ten-thirty… he’d be ecstatic if you were still awake.

serving justice to the city of gotham… getting rid of the people who had done him wrong… it was almost orgasmic… it got him off. but nothing compared to your touch. the way you felt against him. him in you. god, he needed you bad.

his tires screeeeee-ched as he turned corners. the wheels of his beaten-down car could’ve left hot, rubber marks on the pavement. rain pelleted against the windshield.

you loved edward’s obsessiveness. why he was so obsessed with you, you had never understood. there were times when he could cum at the mere sight of you. he loved his victims submissive, quiet, unknowing. the challenge of pinning them down and being able to have complete control. god. it filled his mind with animalistic impulses.

so, that was the reason you’d decided to make him believe you were asleep. he knew you had told him in the past you were open to suprises like that if you weren’t awake... and suddenly, you got excited at the thought of edward coming home to get off in you.

“fuck! what the fuck!” he whined. his car could only go so fast, and he wanted to see you now. five minutes from his apartment complex felt like an eternity. he was so horny, he couldn’t take it.

you put on your pajamas as you always did before you slept, and got in bed. you laid on top of the covers so edward could see all of you as he walked in. he’d be home any minute. you were giddy. you closed your eyes with a smile and waited for the front door to open.

screeeeech.

he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. he kept his mask on while quickly cramming tools from his car into his jacket. he shut the car door in a hurry and barged his way to the complex doors in the rain.

edward never took the elevator. it was too tedious for situations that required some hustle. the dark stairwell occasionally flickered light as he kept a swift pace, walking up to the level his apartment was on. where you would be, waiting for him. he continued to huff when he reached the level door. he was still unbothered to take off his mask and breathed heavily as he let out small groans, gasps for air.

he opened the door and hurriedly walked to his apartment. he struggled to find the key in one of his pockets.

eventually, after digging through tools; a hammer, carpet tucker, and duct tape, he found his house key. he opened the door and almost forgot to shut it behind him.

“y/n!”

you could have giggled.

“y/n!? darling…”

edward walked around the messy apartment, trudged to find you. he walked into his room.

and there you were, sound asleep.

“god!” he whined.

he wanted you now! however, he couldn’t be frustrated with you. you were too cute. all he wanted to do was see you in the first place.

he mopily took off his mask, the gloves that barely fit his hands, and the cling wrap over his head which he tossed in the trash. he took off his jacket which was too large for him, and the pants he had to hold up with a belt. he untied his laces and set his boots aside by the bedroom door.

he began to stand up and saw that a few of his tools had fallen out of the pocket of his jacket lying on the floor. with a scoff, he bent over to pick them up… but noticed a… quite useful tool that had found its way onto the floor.

a roll of duct tape.

he slowly picked it up and looked at it. an animalistic grin stretched across edward’s face.

he turned around and looked at you, sound asleep for him. he thought about what you had said prior.

you couldn’t see what he was doing, but you knew he was going to do something to you. no, you wouldn’t open your eyes and ruin the fun for him now. you kept still and breathed steadily.

crrsstttt.

the noise of unrolling duct tape filled the room. you heard the crack of him tearing it off of the roll, and the creak of the old floor as he walked over to you, his mind racing with the impulses of a horny puppy. he could’ve been drooling.

edward gently grabbed your arms and put them against the post of the bed. the duct tape curled around your wrist, still warm from the heat of his body. he took your other arm and stretched it across the bed and the tape curled around your other wrist. he gently made sure he had you in place.

edward was so incredibly hard. it was so difficult for him to keep his composure in the process of taping you up.

you were finding it painful not to react to what was going on. you wanted to smile, to say something, entice him. however, you knew that you would probably ruin the fun for him if you said anything, so for the time being, you would play along.

as slowly as possible, edward stripped you of your pants, and he took off your underwear. he grabbed your calf and you heard another crrrssttt of the duct tape. following this, he gently used his hands to hold them up and roll the tape around your ankles.

all he had on was a t-shirt that he had been wearing under his jacket, still sticky from sweat, and his boxers. he took off his shirt and pulled down his boxers, leaving him completely naked in front of you, rock hard.

edward crawled onto the bed and moved your legs aside. he murmured incoherently and chuckled to himself.

he spit in his hand and jerked himself off for a moment, before moving toward you and kissing your lips. you fought off your urge to kiss him back. still touching himself, he moved his head from yours for a moment and slid himself into you, tighter than usual because of how he had taped your ankles together.

you felt your cunt ache as he slid himself in and out of you, keeping it slow.

he murmured again.

“fuck, you’re so gorgeous.”

you smiled at this, eyes closed. edward didn’t notice, he was wincing from how good you were making him feel. the look on his face was feral. he kissed you again and ducked onto your chest.

he kept pounding into you, slowly getting faster. using you as his toy. he whined and whimpered. he told you how much he loved how good and obedient you were being, as if he knew you could hear him.

at this point, you were holding back moans yourself. you finally decided to “wake up”, and opened your eyes slowly.

“hey eddie...” you said with a fake sleepy slur in your voice and small grin on your face.

he paused and pulled out. the sadistic look on his face faded for a moment.

“...im so sorry, doll... don't be mad… you just look so beautiful!!.... i had to preserve the way you looked… so still for me.” he smiled slyly and caressed your face.

“you don't want me to stop… do you?” he pouted.

“no… no you can keep going,” you said.

with that, edward’s animalistic impulses showed themselves once again. his face contorted to a villainous smile. he lined himself up with your entrance but pounded faster than he had before, putting your legs and duct-taped ankles above his left shoulder.

he grunted, and you let a few moans slip through your mouth.

“you’re so pretty, baby, letting me take all of you. my little fuckdoll…”

his words of praise could’ve sent you over the edge right then and there, but you let edward continue as you felt your walls get tighter around him.

“i love seeing you like this, y/n…”

“you’re so good for me, sweetheart…”

edward’s pace had gotten faster than it was before. at this point, he didn’t care what you were doing. he wanted to get off in you. you were all his. his personal fucktoy. he loved seeing you so helpless. bound up. he looked at your body for a moment and could’ve come right there. he was fucking you with no remorse.

you could tell he was close as his strokes began to get sloppier. he ground his teeth and clenched his mouth.

edward whined and slowly ducked his head down toward your chest as you felt his dick twitch a few times inside of you.

you tightened around him, and you both came at the same time.

you felt warm cum line your walls as he sloppily, and aggressively, rode out his high. you both panted with exhaustion, him noticeably more than you.

after a moment, he pulled out of you and let out more sighing breaths, before kissing you again.

“oh, thank you so much, doll…”

tears lined his eyes from his orgasm.

edward laid next to you and didn’t even bother to clean you up or undo the tape from your ankles. instead, he looked up at the left post he was positioned by and slowly took it off your left wrist.

“hold on. i won't hurt you, darling…”

he took the tape off tediously and kissed your wrist. following, he moved his head close to your chest and played with your hair for a moment, before putting his hand down and going silent. he snuggled under your chin.

you heard a snore come from his lips and you chuckled to yourself. you closed your eyes and tried to ignore the fact that your right arm was dangling in the air and you couldn’t move your ankles. he’d take the tape off in the morning.

#riddler #riddler 2022 #dano riddler #riddler x reader #paul dano #paul dano x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x you #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton fic #edward nashton x reader #danonation #edward nashton smut #dano!riddler #dano!riddler x reader #kisses4calvin #danoberry

742 notes · View notes

timmymyluv · 2 years

Text

into it (trust issues)

into it

sugar daddy!timmy (timothee chalamet) x model!reader

So sorry this has taken so much longer than anticipated but she is here!! I didn’t think it would go in this direction but I loved how it turned out.

Special thanks and love to @chal-latte and the rest of the taglist (to be added) whom have showed interest for this early on. Hope you guys like it!

Please comment, reblog, share - lemme know what you guys think!

Warnings: exhibitionism, dom/sub themes, oral (m/f receiving), fingering/masturbation, misunderstanding, sugaring (not sugarcoated but kinda??), protected sex (reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 7.3k

Again this is clearly sensitive, 18+ content so minors do not please interact with this. I beg of you, I demand of it actually.

“I could give you the world. Ask for it, and it’s yours.”

You’ll never forget hearing those words come out of Timothee’s mouth, as both of you sat by the fancy downtown New York jazz bar under hazy, sultry lighting. In your body fight silk dress and bright red lipstick, you didn’t expect to meet anyone important, but yet you met- the Timothee Chalamet.

As a struggling model with few commercial gigs here and there, barely keeping you float and helping you pay rent in your shared model apartment with 7 other models.

You knew he was experienced with romance and sex, casual or serious relationships. A casanova of a sort who everyone would beg for even a glimpse of his attention.

Meanwhile, you were never one for casual hookups, after breaking up amicably with your ex in your smalltown before you moved to the Big Apple once you were scouted by an agency.

He was used to having girls (or even men) throw themselves at him, even for a one night stand or the chance for a relationship, but he found it so surprisingly refreshing that you didn’t seem one bit interested in that, or him at all.

Nonchalant and polite, you nodded along with a poker face as he introduced himself and you shook hands, siping on your martini paid for by another guy long gone from the club. As the night went by, you found lots of common ground in your conversation, giggling and cackling one moment before going deep into philosophical discourse the next.

He shared with you about his acting career, from the actors he’s had the pleasure to work with, sets to travel to, luxurious hotel experiences that his million-dollar salaries and offers on films promise him with. You almost itch with envy when he asks you about your modeling career, honestly sharing you’ve been reaching a dry period as the current trend in looks this season is not much favouring yours.

He shares a silent look of almost pity, but it’s like he can see through you. Seeing your potential, seeing you have that same drive, ambition that you are capable of so much more just like he is.

As the night ended, he asked for your number, and you exchanged as he put his on your phone. (rather second-hand, a former model friend gave it to you before a rich old billionaire bought her several brand new iPhones) Timothee offered you a ride home, offering nothing but a sweet peck on the cheek before he drove off after seeing you enter your front door.

…

It’s been nearly two weeks since you last saw him when he first texted you. Timothee tells you about being close friends with this casting director at Paris Fashion Week, and that the director would like to meet you.

You didn’t want to seem like a thirsty, social-climber gold digger - you didn’t entertain his advances because you saw him as a networking opportunity but he had this invisible pull to you that you couldn’t comprehend.

Sending your numerous thanks, you told him how grateful he was for that and what you could do to return the favour. Your meager salary and the runway pieces given to you last season in place for a proper salary would’ve probably seemed like trash to him, but he responds kindly. He wants to spend some time with you the next time he’s in New York City, and meet up for dinner.

…

The casting director he introduced you to opened up opportunities for you that you didn’t even know were there. Your agent was jumping for joy over the phone over you meeting that casting director.

“Are you serious? He’s the most well-connected casting director at the moment! He has booked you for so many shows and editorials next season - you are going to be the hottest new thing!” Your agent squeals, almost ringingly loud to your ear as you put your phone away from your ears and put it on speakerphone on the counter.

You don’t know what to gift him when you see him in a few weeks because, honest to god-you barely know the guy. Behind his prestigious acting roles and red carpet appearances, you’re just in the process of getting to know him.

He meets you at a rather upscale Italian restaurant not far off from the bar where you first met. You give him some random pastries you baked the night before, some cheesecake bites you took from an online recipe but tweaked slightly.

You expected to be embarrassed by your measly gift compared to the life-changing contact he just gave you.

“I’m just wondering- why did you recommend me to the modeling director? I’m not being ungrateful but - I’m just curious.” You ask as you take a bite of your spaghetti.

“He mentioned he was looking for some new faces and you were the first one I thought of, for no particular reason.” He casually shrugs, before getting into his own meal.

Nodding along, the both of you continue the night with your lively conversation, from how the shows you were in, the people you met to how wrapping up post-production was going for the movie he just finished filming.

The live band switches their slow, contemporary jazz to a more sensual tango tune, and just as you were going to sneak in to pay the bill while he wasn’t paying attention, he asked for a dance.

“Care for a dance?” He reaches his hand out to you suavely, confidently like he had rehearsed this a million times before. Of course he has.

You don’t find it in yourself to refuse. For the first time since you’ve met him, a part of you is not as guarded, almost more open and trusting.

There’s no need to worry whether he would be found by the paparazzi with some “new girl” and that you’d become one of his excursions for the week, only to be thrown away before he moves on to another. Celebrities are seen when they want to be seen, like he tells you with a raised brow. Besides, most of the people in the room are far into retirement, barely the usual teenage fangirls who would swoon at the sight of him.

As he twirls you around for the final song for the night, he provides you a proposition you would be stupid to say no to.

“I was wondering if- you would want to be my sugar baby? I’m not usually one to do these things, but- I just have this urge to look out for you, support you in every desire and whim you have.”

As you turn to face him, you look at him with a puzzled look, too shocked to respond.

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you or make you think I was pitying you-”

“Oh no no, I definitely didn’t get that impression. I was just wondering- why me?” You ask.

“I don’t know- I just want you to experience all that life has to offer. We haven’t known each other for long, but - if you are up to it, I would give you anything you want. I would give you the world, the moon even, if you asked for it. ”

He’s up front about how he is currently not looking for anything committed. I mean why would he? He was a top Hollywood heartthrob who would have anyone throwing themselves to even have a piece of his time, satisfied with one night stands and hookups because he would be flying red eye to red eye with his jet set lifestyle.

You both draft a written document on the terms of your arrangement - an annual allowance, full access to his industry networks, the amount of time you spend with him whenever you don’t have work, but the last and final term - no falling in love/ romantic entanglements.

It doesn’t sound like a bad idea to both of you as you nod along at his suggestion and sign your name in red ink underneath. But you always know how this ends.

…

He takes you to a luxury department store that very next morning, driven by his driver on a limo, and closes the store for a few hours so you have the attention of every salesperson to your beck and call.

You are having your own Pretty Woman movie moment, your romantic film of your dreams coming true. You feel the heat rise up in your cheeks as you brush your fingers against the fine fabric on the velvet coat hangers, and try your best to ignore the confused yet almost jealous and annoyed facial expressions from the salespersons waiting for you to try things on.

Timothee let you explore for the first while, smiling fondly as you explored through the luxury department store with awe and wonder. You were drawn to a particular Yves Saint Laurent jacket and some Balenciaga jeans, as you hesitantly looked at him to try it on and he excitedly shoved you to the change room.

As you scrutinized yourself in front of the mirror with the charcoal leather jacket and Versace pumps, he comes in with a gleeful grin, with some items he wanted you to try on.

“Sir, there can only be one person in the change room-” The attendant tries to murmur but she’s ignored as Timothee sneaks into the spacious change room and sits down as he watches you examine the suggestions of clothes he wanted you to try.

“I think these colours would look really good on you, Y/N. Would you want to try them on?” He asks almost sultrily, looking back and forth and already picturing them on you.

Who are you to refuse - he clearly has an eye for fashion and he seemed to understand your style and taste already in the duration of your certain arrangement.

The red Givenchy body fitting dress looked stunning on your figure, hugging your curves perfectly with ruched satin intricately weaved on top of leather. When you emerge from behind the curtains, he looks up with dark, hooded eyes and a pleased smirk.

“Stunning as always, Y/N.”

“You say that for everything I’ve tried on.”

You pull him by his grey tie, snickering as you pull him into an all-consuming kiss that turns into an uninterrupted makeout session, not caring for the world about the salesladies who would hear every word, but could not say anything because he did pay for the entire hour to yourselves, no?

He playfully toys with the belt loops of your jeans as he opens his mouth and your tongue slides in to entangle with his. Your newly manicured hands are all over his chest, gently massaging as you moved down to his neck and hear a muffled moan against your ear.

Timothee’s palms brush from your shoulders to your back and stopping briefly over your breasts, fondling with them until he is satisfied with a symphony of your aroused shrieks you fail to hinder in time.

Kissing down his cream, silk dress shirt, fondling with the buttons until you get to his crepe dress pants and tug his boxers down as well in one strike. Rather than embarrassed on this public display of lust, he looks down at you with a confident, smug smirk, browsing his fingers through your silky hair with pride.

First pumping slowly from the tip, drunk off his frustrated and impatient groans, before quickening your pace before your tongue first makes contact and a feral grunt erupts from the bottom of his throat.

Bobbing, choking, slightly gagging and gulping his shaft down your throat, you expertly maneuver his desires from the flush on his cheeks, closed shut eyes and the moans he is emitting as he grips tightly against your scalp until his knuckles turned white.

“You’re too good at this-” He gasps at a particular throb of the back of your throat against his length, your fingers massaging his balls and lightly tickling the top of his dick until he splutters expletives and releases into the velvet of your mouth.

Swallowing eagerly like it was the last thing on earth you could consume, the only liquid that could nourish you, you stared back with fawned innocence as you release him from your warm cavern and slowly stand up, proudly wearing the bruises on your knees like a medal.

As you lean forward to zip up back his pants and pull up his boxes, he tugs you at the collar for a gentler, more delicate kiss, smiling as your teeth slightly clash at how clumsily he is kissing you back, still in a hazy daze from the mind blowing blow job you just gave him and the taste of his sweet release on you.

Leaving hand in hand with your smeared lipstick all over his face and your hands in his with a cheeky grin, he spoiled you to no limit and you left with a minimum of $100,000 spent that afternoon alone - from clothing to limited edition jewelry with only a few hundred pieces in existence.

…

Dinner that night was at a hotel restaurant in an upscale, but trendy part of town where you’d expect to see more urban, cosmopolitan yuppies like you.

The reflection of the new diamond Cartier necklace glimmers against the metal display across from you, as you proudly showed off your neck like a proud swan as he admired how you looked in the piece he chose for you and held your hand close to him as he kissed your knuckles gently.

“You always choose the best pieces for me, Tim. I cannot thank you enough.” You earnestly thank him but he hushes you lightheartedly, his index finger against your plush lips.

“There is no need to thank me, angel. To see you happy and dressed like the goddess you are, that is more than enough for me.” He tilts your chin towards him with a gentle pinch of his fingers, deeply looking into your eyes with a sincere expression.

You peck him briefly on the cheek across the table before your waiters arrive with the food you ordered for the night. Chatting casually about how his memorization of his new script has been going, the casting sessions you’ve been to recently, modeling executives you’ve met and the new book he’s read throughout the night.

To an unknowing outsider, the both of you clearly resemble a long-term committed loving, monogamous relationship, deeply in love. Even the restaurant’s manager mistakenly calls you his wife or the waiters assume you’re his girlfriend when Timothee introduces you to them as he’s a regular at this place. You hide the flush of your cheeks and nod along awkwardly.

…

He orders takeout dessert to be delivered to his apartment later that night, twirling the red wine in his wine glass, watching you bite into one of the matcha macarons from the fancy box he ordered just for you, because he knew it was your favourite.

The twinkle in his eyes was clear as the stars in the sky, even from his top floor Manhattan loft. Some of his curls loosely dangling over his eyes, his eyes dazy with sleep and slightly high off the few puffs he took from the joint you rolled him, and sleepy from the long day you spent on the go together.

Littering gentle pecks and faint tongue licks all over your face, pressing his palm into your cheekbones as his mouth ghosts over your jaw, brushing over your forehead - just him, his scent, his touch, all over you and leaving his prints in his wake.

Deep in thought, it is soon before he recognizes the daze you’re in as you’re not as receptive to his touches as usual.

“Something on your mind?” He hoarsely whispers against the curve of our neck, blue and purple splotches starting to form.

“Would you consider having sex with me? Or is that not in our agreed terms-” He sits up in alarm with wide eyes and you guiltily grasp for him, fearing you’ve lost him for good.

“Consider? I never wanted to give the impression that our arrangement was for sexual intercourse only. You could have never touched me again and I would still want your company.” He speaks so openly, so candidly and you feel ashamed by how guarded you are.

“Timmy, I sucked you off in a department store dressing room, and you’ve eaten me out more than I can remember. Of course I am down for sex.” Feeling like you’ve misunderstood his intentions, tears starting to form and sting in your eyes.

Reaching forward to wipe away your tears, he hushes you and presses his forehead against yours with his eyes tightly shut.

“I never asked for you to become some high class prostitute or courtesan only for my sexual pleasures, doll. I truly want to indulge in your soul, your intelligence, your beauty, your kindness, your charm - everything.”

“I do not want you to feel pressured to have to reciprocate anything I do for you with your body, you are worth much more than that. Just your time with me is valuable enough that no money can return.”

Still refusing to look into his eyes and nodding along absently as you try to wipe away your tears, he brings you back to him, pressing his lips against yours with a firm resolve before backing away.

“Yet if that is what you want, I will not refuse it. I want to make love to you, not just fuck you and dispose of you the next day. Again, ask for anything and it is yours. I will not refuse you anything. Name a date, and you shall have it.”

Selecting a movie from his vast DVD collection, you both refuse to speak further on this conversation. Laying your head against his arm, tightly embracing his bicep against your nose and fight against the sleepiness washing over you. This is all pretend, you can pretend he is yours and you are his fully, wholly. When no strings attached you to each other than the ghost of what could have been.

You are away from him for a few weeks when a string of modeling gigs, booked campaigns, magazine covers and runway invitations pull you away from him.

After quick brunch with a number of high profile casting agents and fashion investors who are pleasantly impressed with you, you are ushered away by your manager and your casting agent to a studio just south of Pasadena for a Marc Jacobs perfume campaign.

Your hair plastered up with gel and powdered white and pink a la Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola, and a plain yet delicate beige full length gown that molded to your shape like a Renaissance marble sculpture. Makeup on your face was bare sans bright pink blush on the apples of your cheeks, foundation that made you look ghastly more than alive, and clear lipgloss on your lips.

Submerged in a murky, stained bathtub filled with water, you sat down and the dress became transparent against your figure, sparing nothing to the eyes. Your nipples peaked through the v-shaped neckline that was held together only by strings of gold chains and strips of white chiffon, as you transfigured into various poses that the photographer approvingly took with harsh flashes against your cornea.

Minutes turned into hours as the shoot continued into the late afternoon and nearly the evening, the lukewarm water turning cold against your skin, submerged and formed goosebumps on your forearm and thighs that you were sure would make you wake up with a cold the next morning. Heck, you could already feel the headache starting to crawl into your skull.

As you stepped out and left a soaked trail behind you, the assistants rushed to envelope you with a cotton bathrobe and a pile of other towels were thrown your way to dry you clean. Scanning and preapproving the photos with the photographer with an absent grin, you thank everyone on set for their work and rush to the bathroom for a shower before you rush home, order takeout and knock out for the night.

Browsing your phone aimlessly, you are pleasantly surprised when your bank app notifies you about a recent deposit of $35,000, from Timothee with a simple note saying “ Get whatever you want darling. Still looking for a new place? Found some listings you might like.”

You are astonished at how nonchalant he was about sending you money that most people would not even see in their entire lifetime. This probably was just pennies and dimes compared to his annual income nowadays, with all these films coming in and offers flying by the minute.

Sending one of the outtakes from the photoshoot just from your neck down to him, your breasts fully in display as the transparent dress you were wearing was sodden, the dips of your hips deliciously accentuated and your waist cinched, a mischievous simper on your face appeared before you ran off to the shower before you could even get more sick.

The emphatic pings of your phone’s message notifications against the constant gush of the shower water over your head made your belly rumble with victory and unappeased desire. You could only imagine what dirty, unhinged things he would be saying to you over text, what he promised you for the next time you would see each other and how you were in for it good when it came to punishments.

“Like it?! I fucking love it, angel. I would devour you right now if I was there.”

“Oh, you little minx. What happened to the shy doll I first met at the bar?”

Your head was in the clouds guessing on what he sent you as you washed your hair and soaped your body under the running water. Feeling the heat of your body, you hovered down just above your sex. Tickling slowly around your inner thighs, pretending it was his longer fingers instead.

One hand pushing your lower lips apart as one fondled your breasts and pinched your pink, puffy nipples, you suppressed a high pitched moan in fear a lingering crew member would overhear you and ruin your reputation before your modeling career even took off.

Scissoring your index and middle finger into your warm chasm as your thumb traced lightly over your clit, you lost track of time as you indulged in the feeling that washed over your body. Like a tightly knotted string curled up tightly before being yanked violently, you see stars against a canopy of the night sky as you sweetly release, his name murmured repeatedly under your breath like a prayer.

Leaving the studio just before midnight strikes, in the brand new Louis Vuitton top he got you with some thrifted trousers and custom made sneakers he designed with you in mind, the poor interns left behind to clean up the intricate set design for the photoshoot of the campaign did not find anything odd about how upbeat and energized you looked after a grueling, all day shoot.

As you got into the private Mercedes Benz driven by one of his hired drivers that waited for you by the parking lot, your thumb hovered over sending ‘i touched myself at the thought of you, daddy.”

…

The final box delivered at your newly moved two-bedroom apartment in Greenwich Village reaches your doorstep, and you thank the kind delivery man in your apartment complex.

Beside the box of plain Corelle dishes, a circular ivory hued gift box with a giant satin bow on top caught your eye. Tugging the card underneath, you see his name “Timothee” written elegantly with a fountain pen, as you hold it against your chest before shaking your head with an iridescent smile on how sweet and thoughtful he always is.

Three dozens of preserved pink roses were neatly arranged inside, with a lengthy original poem he wrote alongside excerpts from both your and his favourite literature writers and poets.

“To my muse, yn. Xx

XIV

If thou must love me, let it be for nought

Except for love's sake only. Do not say

'I love her for her smile—her look—her way

Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought

A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'—

For these things in themselves, Beloved, may

Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for

Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,—

A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!

But love me for love's sake, that evermore

Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning”

Pressing kisses of the laced envelope until lipstick marks stains were burned into them, you cherished this gift, his sweet, honeyed words and the paradise he had crafted and welcomed you into. If only he could give you his heart.

…

After countless of meetings with your agents and your managers, your team have expanded and hired more assistants under your wing as your schedules became more complicated and hectic.

Strolling across the small, hidden park, you are both enjoying the warm, glimmering sun coming out and kissing your skin and hitting two birds with one stone as you get your daily steps in. As your brown leather boots brush against the soil underneath the grass, you can’t help but think of him.

It’s been several months since the beginning of your arrangement, and with how much your career is thriving at the moment, you can’t believe you’ve barely had the time to process what you had with him.

You were to see him again in a few days, counting the seconds, the hours until you could feel his skin under yours again. The warmth of his body as he whispered empty promises down the column of your throat and you for a moment wish to wholeheartedly believe it.

Were you being too forward? Perhaps your appeal on why he picked you of all people was because he was used to figures throwing themselves at his whim, leaving broken hearts to never be seen again after a sinful night.

So when you carelessly offered yourself, your body to him that fateful day, you shattered whatever perception of speciality that you figuratively formed in his mind. You scolded yourself mentally as you continued your walk, ignoring the tears that streamed down your face before you picked up the hidden cigarette from your pocket for a few puffs.

…

You are waiting for him in his loft, having finished arranging accounts and investments with his financial advisor whom he recommended you work with to further grow your independent bank account and finances.

Timothee surprises you as he locks his arms around your neck, peppering kisses on the apples of your cheeks. You smile at the scent of the perfume you had chosen for him the last time you went shopping together - a piece of you he carried with him even when he was away.

“I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“How could I have not? It’s not the same when you’re not here.”

He reciprocates your smile as he looks at you fondly, massaging your head with his fingers through your locks, as if he was feeling if you were real, and physically present. You cradle his hands against your face, closing your eyes to wallow and drown into that sensation.

Sinking into the couch,e he leaves a burn with every kiss he trails down your body, gently slipping every piece of your clothing one by one, without a care for the world.

…

Several months continue of this daydream of an arrangement, and you fear things are too good to be true. You two are basically in a romantic relationship that have done everything and anything, except it is not monogamous, heavily dependent on financial transactions and could end any minute you lose his favour and to his whims.

The first night you give yourself to him, you want nothing to do with the intricate indications of what making love hinted to you. You did not want to intertwine your soul further with his ,even though you were already his but to no guarantee was he fully and entirely only yours.

You lied through your teeth that you only wanted dirty, violent and ruthless, hard sex - just brutal, raw fucking. In your all-red lace lingerie that barely hid anything to imagination other than his leather jacket you stole from his closet, your red lips hid the feelings you wanted to set free.

He repeatedly tried to talk you out of this, that he was not going to judge you for any of your preferences and you could change your mind anytime, that he could stop and go gentle or never touch you sexually again. You refused. You refused to let him see you like that when this is not what a committed relationship entailed. This was purely a financial transaction between a sugar baby and her financial provider.

Scratching down his back as he leaves fingerprint bruises down your thighs, torse, around your neck, you think this is the closest thing you can get to his touch on yours, numbing you from the growing sensation of unrequited, unbridled care, affection and love you developed for him.

Whips, sex toys, vibrators, bondage, shibari- whatever experimental sexual thing that’s harsh, yanking at your skin and has no hint of lovemaking to it, you’re game. As long it’ll keep him close to you, physically but not emotionally or mentally or spiritually. That’s too close. You get too close and you’ll lose him- never to see him again. It’s not even about the money anymore, you wouldn’t give a shit if he stopped wiring you an annual allowance and could just spend the rest of your life with him forever.

Every time you think he wouldn’t see you crying at night even after the aftercare he would generously give you, he too looked at you longingly, but he didn’t want to cross the line. If he keeps crossing the line and pushing the boundary further and further like he already has, the lines between the truth and the lies just keep blurring.

He wants you. Not just for your body, nor your intelligence or your beauty. He’s afraid. He’s never been so open with someone like this. Or at least since- well, a painful memory he would never want to mention again.

Timothee has always been so guarded, flocking to casual hookups, making out with random girls he meets one night, not knowing their names or seeing their faces in the night light before he runs away. Like he always has.

It horrifies him, scares him intensely. When he watches you sleep beside him on his bedside, it terrifies him how you have his heart in your hands, and can crush it anytime, but he pretends it doesn’t bother him. Wouldn’t that just be leading him on like how others have done to him?

It continues like this for weeks, barely a month - but the temperature has gotten too hot, the glass has cracked. Enough is enough.

“Why aren't you talking to me anymore? “ He asks you impatiently, tired of the messages of his you keep ignoring, or how you don’t look at his face whenever he’s around.

“What do you mean, I'm talking to you right now?! Nothing is wrong, Timothee. Here you are making such a big deal about everything!” Your voice wavers as you turn around to face him, hiding the tears hovering to pour out any moment.

His head in his hands, pulling at the roots in his hair as he keeps trying to interrogate you but there’s no way to get through.

‘Why have you been so guarded with me recently? Heck, you’ve never been an open book from the start but you barely even share a glimpse of yourself with me anymore!” He shouts, he doesn't want to raise his voice but you’re not getting the point when the wall you put between the two of you only gets thicker and higher.

“I thought this was just an arrangement, Tim! I never thought you’d even think of romantically seeing me like that, or be in a committed relationship when we never talked about it!”

Your breath heaved as you felt that you’ve unleashed something you’ve held back for so long. It was now or never. This could either open you up to a genuine communication with him, or close the doors in your face forever.

He stares at you in disbelief, in shame for himself, for not having treated you right. Timothee rushes towards you and puts his mouth against yours, his palms cradling your face as if he would lick your wounds to heal.

He releases you from the kiss like he swam up for air. “I’m so sorry you felt that way. Yes, we started our arrangement primarily as you as my sugar baby, but the feelings I developed for you were real.”

“You loved me?” The tears flow down your cheeks as you tuck your head around his neck, wanting to feel him against you as the emotions consume you completely.

“Loved and I still do. I always will. I was afraid of getting hurt, that making a commitment will make me lose you. I’ve never had the best luck when it came to relationships, so I felt that keeping myself at a certain distance would allow me to be in your life, but that I wouldn’t risk losing you.”

Oh, how you felt so foolish! You wailed in despair as you smacked his chest, pushing him away as you cried but wanting him closer to you, too close, yet not close enough.

“You fucking idiot, I thought you only wanted to throw your money at me for my time and my body! I never wanted you to make love to me and rather just fuck me heartlessly because I was afraid it would give me an illusion that you loved me like I love you.” You spit your words out like you’ve been fed venom, a wound not fully healed and needed time to breathe.

Timothee lunges at you again until he is hovering over your body on the bed, his hands firmly locking your wrists above your head. He murmurs apologies as he peppers light pecks on your nose, down your neck and down your sternum.

“I’m so sorry - I’m ashamed I never had the chance to tell you the truth until now. The entire truth-”

“The girls I saw you with from a week before you flew home?” You had to ask, you couldn’t resist. You bit your tongue from when the photos were released from photographers during the events before he came home to you.

It stung like you were stabbed right in the stomach with a sharp knife and it twisted within you. The air clocked out your lungs and your vision blurred as you assured yourself that this was totally expected from your arrangement.

It was not monogamous, there was nothing romantic nor committed about your agreement. Heck, why wouldn’t he? He was at the peak of his career with girls throwing themselves at him every second, so why would he refuse if they could give him what you couldn’t?

So when the pictures of his tongue down some random girls throat backstage at the Coachella tents a few days ago even if it was before he came home to your bed, it only reminded you of how fickle the moments you had with him.

“I was drunk and I was high - I promised it didn’t mean a thing. My manager and my publicist team demanded I be pictured with these girls, for the image they want of me as some playboy, casanova heartbreaker.” He groans in frustration, apologetic he had to do anything against his will.

A part of you wanted to trust him fully, wholly but you couldn’t. You knew how this wretched industry worked, especially in the dark trails of Los Angeles. It was not fully the city of angels, or how it wanted to be.

Appearances were everything. It was only expected of him to play the game by its tricks if he wanted to survive and come out on top of the food chain. It would only amp up his appeal, his marketability if he appeared desired, still single and uncommitted but attractive and wanted to those wannabe influencers and models you didn’t know their names of.

“I- I don’t fully trust you, but I want you to give us a chance. If you’re willing to fight for it.” You demand, setting your ground as you push him above you so you can stare at him directly and clearly.

“I want this more than anything. You have my word. It won’t be perfect, but I am willing to put everything on the line for you. I don’t expect you to forgive me so easily, but please - at least one chance.” His eyes water as he looks at you sincerely, moving to your side and places his arms around your shoulders.

You reach forward slightly for a gentle peck on his lips, circling your arms around your waist. Sighing vows of pleasure and acceptance as he prays apologies down your skin. The straps of your flimsy crop top fall down your shoulders, as you feel his fingers and the warmness of his tongue brush against your delicate skin.

Wanton cries of pleasure come out from your mouth, your fingers tangled into the locks of his hair, pulling at his scalp as he pulls up your top from above your head. Leaving marks down the column of your throat and chest before he reaches for one of your nipples, circling and pinching with one hand while the other is sucked on with an eager hunger that cannot be satisfied.

He goes back and forth before he is trailing down your stomach with the same ferociousness and desire. You reach forward to raise his shirt from his torso and fumble for his belt clumsily.

Pulling your skirt and your panties in a single attempt, he nudges you back against the mattress, the silver necklaces on his neck hovering over you. You pull him in by his necklaces to kiss him ardently, breathlessly like if you stopped kissing him, you’d stop living and breathing entirely.

Timothee’s hands linger above your hips, before he tenderly grips your thighs, looking up for permission to part them and continue before you assert him with a panicked nod.

He dives in without restraint, fingers toying with your clit teasingly before you whine in thwarting before he thrusts into your hole mercilessly. He plunges in according to the symphony of your moans and cries, a particular groan coming from his throat when he finds a spot you like and puts his tongue right in, adding to your gratification.

Adding more fingers as his tongue wildly eats you up like candy, like the last meal he will have, your thighs wobble around sloppily and discombobulatingly as you build up towards reaching your peak.

“Ah-ah, yes, right there , Timmy! So good, so- ah!” His enticing, alluring eyes look up at you almost menacingly, like you’re prey he can’t wait to tear apart. He adds another finger as his tongue swipes in deeper and messily, slurping your juices as your orgasm comes crashing in.

Seeing stars as a string is pulled from within you, the light and darkness of your perception incomprehensible as one as you lose sensation for a moment. As you return back to your senses, you only see unruly curls and hazel eyes looking at you like he’s known you forever.

As you regain your hazy thoughts to pump his shaft as he cries in revelry, eyes rolling backwards as you press him closer to you. He moves up to flutter over you, gaping on top of you with laborious breaths as he wordlessly asks for your consent one more time.

Hoarsily you hiss a hushed ‘yes’ with whatever voice you got in you left from your cries in euphoria, and he thrusts into you haltingly, unhurriedly- so unlike the times you usually make him fuck you until you can’t walk.

Tangling your hands with his, he worships you as your hips brush and he penetrates into you without restraint, but so softly, so delicately like you would break like glass any minute. Bit by bit, before he is fully inside, groans as he sucks into the skin below your jaw and messily kisses you on the lips, fresh with your essence giving him a glow.

You cry like you have seen heaven above, whining, and screeching over the love of his that he has desperately wanted you to feel, but you’ve denied for so long. He adores you like you’re an altar, a saint on a pedestal that he wants to sacrifice himself for.

“I love you, fuck - i love you, so much. Mon amour-”

As you feel him release his warm seed inside you, he rubs repeatedly against your clit and sensitive hole before you come one more time, like two souls intertwined and intertwined into one. Like you were him, and he was you.

…

The rest of the night is a fuzzy blur, tainted by too many glasses of wine where you end up tangled in his bed sheets. The tender touches across your torso and around your neck are more gentle than you’ve ever imagined.

You give yourself to him three times that night, just as ravenous and hungry as the first time. You had previously chatted about your boundaries, your off-limits, but what you were willing to indulge and try with him in his bedroom.

As the sun rose, you opened your eyes to him propped on his elbow, looking down at you longingly with nothing but affection and fondness in his eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“We still have lots to talk about, doofus.” You tease him, pointing your tongue at him as you sit up with your comforter around your waist, but he pushes you back down.

“That and we will. Let’s give this one more try, and start how it should’ve been. “ He truthfully promises with no mischief or lies on his face.

You hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say as your mouth opens trying to figure out what to say next.

“Give it some time. I know this is a lot to think about, but I really want us to work. I want this to last.”

“You promise?” You sound so hopeful, like an innocent child so optimistic before the real demons of the world came haunting her down.

“Yes, I promise. If you think I won’t spoil you with everything I got either, you’re dead wrong.”

Oh, Tim. The very Timothee you grew to love and adore. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You can’t say I wanted you just for your money or that I’m a gold-digger then. You can’t get rid of me that easily!” You jest, trailing your fingers lightly over his chest, until he reaches forward just underneath his bed.

“Now why don’t you try on this new lingerie set I got for you? I’m sure you’d look delicious with it on?!” He offers with a teasing smirk, eyes darkened with lust and want already as he holds the package in his hands.

You shake your head with a light chuckle. Oh you were in for it now.

#timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet scenarios #timothee imagines #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet

482 notes · View notes