#so i felt so fucking bad for keeping my boss waiting up front instead of letting him go out to the fields like hed planned

[wabblebees]

.

#warning: long complaining rant abt my day incoming #now that saturday is officially over here where im at #can i just say fuck yesterday?? yeah. fuck yesterday #day started with finding that my betta died last night:( hed been sick as fuck for a while but id been trying rly hard to help and i rly #thought hed started getting better this week but. i guess not... to the person who msgd me & wished him well thank you very much<3<3<3 #i really really appreciated it even tho i didnt know how to respond at the time #but. yeah. hhhh. #and bc of. all that:( i was an hour+ late to work this morning -- & as always im the only one scheduled to work up front for saturdays #so i felt so fucking bad for keeping my boss waiting up front instead of letting him go out to the fields like hed planned #and then we were busy as SHIT all day holy fuck. but i was very very lucky that the weather was ok & everyone who came today was super nice #and my ride to take me home was an hour+ late to pick me up -- so i stayed clocked in until they finally got there. & the coworker who was #supposed to be my shift relief didnt show up until 5 minuted before my ride did bc THEY were an hour+ late to work too #but i had so much shit i needed to do today after work and i just fucking COULDN'T bc being at work that long took all of my goddamn spoons #bc i was switching btween manual labor & so fucken MUCH human interaction & then back as soon as i had 30secs w/out someone talking to me #and again!! they were all so so nice!! if i wasnt already having a bad day im sure it wouldnt have taken NEARLY as many spoons. but i didnt #want to talk to anyone and i didnt want to do my usual cheery-chirpy shtick i automatically use bc of the adhd-masking+social anxiety shit #that always makes my coworker laugh bc apparently my customer service voice is just ''tour-guide barbie up an octave'' #but like. yeah. that ate up every goddamn resource id managed to scrounge up after an already difficult week #which is. going to be a problem for tomorrow+next week!!! aaaaaaa!!! #i havent even made a DENT in the packing i have to finish before noon todayyy #im so so so excited for tmrw bc im FINALLY getting to see my partner after more than a month bUt im ALSO going to be spending the day with #their family and im so fucken nervous bc i love them and i already REALLY like their family but what if i fuck it up somehow. idek what to #WEAR bc its a party but when i asked their mom abt dresscode she just said ''come comfortable!🙂'' which one would THINK would make it EASY #but nOoOo bc EYE'VE never been COMFORTABLE at a social gathering in my LIFE #and then monday that ive gotta go drive back to my stupid SCHOOL bc ive got a 10-day JOB up there and im ALSO nervous about THAT #even tho ive done it twice before!! but this time IM gonna be the only student on the team thats ever done it and im 😬 #hhhhhHHHH. and ive sat here shaking and typing this for 30 minutes instead of packing. still. bc im exhausted but havent done JACK SHIT #if im being fair to myself i will say i DID manage to take a shower and do laundry. which were both necessary steps! but also. the damn #fuck-ass dryer DIED HALFWAY THRU. bc fuck me ig. lmfao. life is a comedy of errors and im the damn player getting laughed off the stage #bee speaks

[the-lonelybarricade]

You Look Like Bad News - Part II

Summary: Elain hated living next to Lucien Vanserra. Almost as much as she hated the girl he was fucking.

Thank you to @velidewrites and @vulpes-fennec for quickly beta-ing this, I appreciate you so much!! This is a VERY late birthday gift and slightly late Valentine's gift to @separatist-apologist, who I hope feels better soon.

CW: Smut, Dirty Talk, Bad BDSM Etiquette, cockwarming, sex toys, restraints, overstimulation, rough oral sex. 6.4k words of pure, depraved filth

Read on AO3 ・ Read Part I Here

-

Elain had never had a relationship with a man that was just fun.

She had never woken up with one in her bed, uncertain if she should offer him breakfast or demand he go back to his own home so she could get ready for work.

Letting him spend the night had probably been a mistake—a line that shouldn’t have been crossed. Because somehow inviting him to spend the night had blurred into making him a cup of coffee, and now she could see him grinning over her laptop as she took her morning meeting at her kitchen table instead of her fucking desk.

It’s the abs, she thought, hating him for wearing nothing but his boxers as he perched himself comfortably against her counter. She was absurdly weak to the sight of that golden brown stomach, and giving him a cup of coffee had been her weak-willed excuse to keep those stupidly toned abs in her sight for just a few hours longer.

“Good morning, everyone,” her boss chimed brightly through the speakers.

Elain responded with her own equally fake enthusiasm, before muting herself to say to Lucien, “Just give me like ten minutes on this call.”

And fuck, if that responding grin didn’t make her teeth clench. It was far too mischievous for 8 in the morning, and Elain was certain she wasn’t equipped to handle whatever plan was forming behind those clever eyes.

All he asked was, “Are you muted?”

Her eyes darted to that red microphone button in the corner of her screen, which assured Elain that she was muted. But this wasn’t her company-wide call and she would undoubtedly have to speak at some point. Hyperaware of the camera aimed at her face, and the zoom call of 20 hardly-smiling faces watching her, Elain did her best to say with her eyes don’t you fucking dare.

Lucien wasn’t staring at her eyes, though. He was watching her fingers, waiting to see if she would click that button to unmute herself. And when she didn’t, he set his coffee on the counter.

“I think I need to make a few apologies,” he said. Elain couldn’t trace an ounce of remorse in his voice.

Deciding to treat him like a problem that would go away if she simply stopped giving it attention, Elain fixed her eyes stubbornly on the screen in front of her. Whatever apologies he needed to make could wait ten minutes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucien walking towards her. She wondered if this was how it felt to be pinned beneath a predator's gaze, trapped between the table and chair with no means of escape.

Lucien braced his palms on either side of her laptop, demanding attention as he leaned over the screen. Any closer, and his long Autumn-leaf hair might have fallen into the camera’s view.

Keeping her head as still as she could, Elain flicked her eyes up at him through long eyelashes, batting them in a way that she hoped would make him at least half as breathless as his dark eyes were making her. She tried to ask, What do you have to apologize for?

She could see the way he stirred, how his expression nearly sharpened at the challenge. “I saw the way you winced when you sat down,” He said in a low voice. Elain thought the smug smile on his lips was a far cry from apologetic. “That pretty ass still sore? I can kiss it better.”

It was an effort to draw her eyes away from those lips and what they were threatening to do. If she wasn’t in a meeting, she might have taken him up on it. “My ass is fine,” she said dismissively.

“It is,” Lucien agreed, with a grin that spoke of far more satisfaction than Elain felt was earned. She batted errantly at his hand, trying to communicate that he needed to go away as she unmuted herself.

“I have a meeting with Olaya at noon,” she said to her team, narrowing her focus back to the panel of coworkers staring absently at their screens. If they had noticed her speaking to someone off camera, they certainly weren’t invested enough to look intrigued. “I’ve put aside time for us to discuss the Velaris Inc. proposal and I just wanted to go over a few points before I meet with her…”

Seemingly bored now that her attention was elsewhere, Lucien retreated from her field of vision. And Elain relaxed back into her role, hoping that perhaps he would leave during her meeting and spare them both the awkward goodbyes. Not that it would spare them from the awkward hello when she returned to her office and saw him sitting at his window tomorrow morning.

God, what had she started? The more she thought about it the more she realized her rational brain had been switched off entirely yesterday. How could she keep a casual relationship with a man that she had to stare at 40 hours a week? She wondered if that tongue was even worth—

Elain jolted in her seat as something wrapped around her ankle. Strong, slender fingers, soon replaced by the caress of soft fabric. At first, her curiosity made her complacent. Whatever Lucien was up to, it wasn’t worth garnering the suspicion of her coworkers.

But then her ankle was pulled taut against the wooden leg of the chair, and when she tried to move it, she was met with resistance.

She muted herself long enough to growl a warning, “Lucien.”

“Everything okay, Elain?”

Her heart rate spiked at the sound of her manager’s voice. “New dog,” she answered quickly. Could they see how tense her smile was? Could Lucien? “He keeps jumping on me.” Elain peaked under the table to find Lucien on his knees, staring proudly at his handwork. He had bound one of her ankle to the chair with the belt of a dressing gown, and he offered her a shameless grin as he reached for her free leg.

“Down boy,” she chided, kicking her leg out. With a sigh of resignation, she returned to the meeting. “Sorry, I’m still teaching him how to behave.”

Lucien expertly wrangled her free ankle to the other side of the chair, asserting more force in the way he gripped Elain by the knee and spread her legs open. As payback for calling him a dog—or simply because he’d gathered she enjoyed it.

“I thought this was supposed to be an apology,” she whispered at the next chance she had to mute herself.

From beneath the table she heard that low, devastating laugh. “I’m on my knees, aren’t I?”

The camera only captured her from the waist up, which was why Elain hadn’t bothered to change out of the pair of thin pajama shorts that subjected far too much bare skin to Lucien’s mercy. He started with his hands. Slow, taunting strokes. Just to say: I’m here. Are you nervous? Then his lips, sucking kisses into her tender skin, trailing up from her knees to the seam of her hip. She wondered if she’d be painted in even more bruises tomorrow, her entire body a monument to his desire.

She wondered why she liked the idea of being covered in him.

Maybe it was the impermanence. Graysen had given her jewelry that she still had tucked away in a drawer. When she looked back on old pictures with her friends, she could still see his gifts glinting around her wrist, her neck. The trace of him tarnished so many memories.

But a bite mark on her thigh? That was equally a way of saying I like you without forcing her to keep it, to examine it, to look too closely at what she was doing. When the mark faded, there would be no evidence Lucien was ever there to begin with. It would be her quiet secret to keep in the back of her mind, on lone nights when she slid a hand between her legs and thought about how he had touched her the same way beneath her kitchen table…

Elain’s lungs hitched as his fingers snuck beneath the fabric of her shorts, coaxing her back into the moment, forcing her to confront the camera that captured every stuttered breath rising out of her too-flushed chest. She foolishly thought, at least he can’t pull them off while I’m sitting.

Lucien, she was learning, was not a man who was daunted by obstacles, nor confined by convention.

Rather than try to remove her sleep shorts, he pressed his face into her clothed center and laid a teasing, open-mouthed kiss directly against the fabric. Elain didn’t realize how worked up he’d made her until that small kiss, delivered with just the right amount of friction, had her bucking her hips closer. His responding breath of laughter made her stomach flutter.

“That feel nice, baby?” he murmured, dipping his head to press another teasing kiss with just enough pressure to drive her insane. If not from that, then from the scratch in his voice on the word baby. Almost like he meant it. She was already contemplating slamming her laptop shut so she could topple over this table and chair and find a way to get her revenge on him for constantly interrupting her meetings.

Instead, she whined. A high pitched, needy, embarrassing sound that made her resist the urge to cover her rapidly reddening face. Elain didn’t know where the sound came from—just that somewhere in trying to keep her expression restrained and her body still, it slipped out.

“I thought so,” he hummed, slipping his hand beneath the flimsy material of her shorts. She squirmed as much as she could with her restrained legs, which prevented her from snapping her knees shut. He dragged a finger leisurely through the seam of her cunt. “These meetings can be so dull. Let me make it more enjoyable.”

“Luc—”

She cut herself off with a sharp inhale as he sunk two fingers inside of her, gliding easily to the knuckle. Her body immediately clenched at the intrusion, tightening around his fingers. Lucien groaned at the sensation—she knew what he was imagining, and the thought made her entire body go loose and taut at once. Two of his fingers stretched her nicely, but she’d already seen him naked. The stretch of two fingers would feel nothing like the stretch of his cock.

Suddenly, her mouth felt dry and she ached. For more. For Lucien. For something other than the smug look he flashed her, fingers stilled as he smiled like he was doing her a favor by not moving them.

Her colleagues were still speaking, making arrangements for the next meeting. They weren’t concerned with the way she shifted, grinding herself as subtly as she could against Lucien’s hand.

“There you go,” he cooed approvingly. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers made an obscene noise as he slid them out of Elain, then pushed them back in, creating a taunting rhythm that felt less like let me take care of you and more like let me torment you. Maybe to Lucien, those things meant the same.

Elain’s lips parted open, a silent moan wavering in the hollow space. With the camera on her, watching her every move, and her legs pried open on the chair, there was nothing she could do but take what Lucien saw fit to give her.

“Think you can whimper for me again, baby?” He slid a third finger in, forcing the sound like he wanted to prove she’d never had any choice to begin with. “There it is.” His voice was molten silk pouring over her skin, and when he leaned forward to suck her clit through the thin shorts, he pulled the noise from her again. “Such a pretty sound.”

“Elain.”

She froze.

Lucien didn’t, still fucking her on his fingers as her boss asked, “What is your availability looking like tomorrow?”

God, was he really going to force her to speak with his fingers still moving inside of her? He’d slowed his pace, ensuring the slick sound of her arousal didn’t carry to the microphone as she unmuted herself and stuttered, “I-I am available to meet any time past noon.”

“Okay, good. Then we’ll schedule our meeting for 12:30.”

“Sound perfect,” she said, knowing her voice was strained. Lucien had swept his thumb up to rub cruel circles against her clit. “See you all tomorrow.”

The call ended, saving Elain from the difficult task of looking herself in the eye after what she was letting a man, a stranger, do to her.

“You’re getting better,” he murmured. The digits buried in her cunt curled, brushing against a spot that made her back arch while he continued laying praise at her clit with the pad of his thumb. “You didn’t make any noise while you were unmuted.”

“Asshole.”

His laughter was little more than a rumble in the back of his throat. “Speak to me like that, and I’ll reconsider giving you a reward.”

The words could have been a blade held against her pulse for the way it quickened. The way she held her breath and considered her next words carefully. “I thought you were supposed to be apologizing.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I’ll punish you for being a brat later.”

Later.

“For now…” Lucien trailed off, sanctioning his actions to communicate in the place of words. His hand slipped out of her shorts and she watched, lips parted, as he drew each of his fingers into his mouth to suck on them like they’d been coated in honey.

Then he surged forward, not waiting for permission or reproval—Elain hadn’t decided which she would have given. Not that it mattered. Every thought eddied out of her mind the second he pulled aside her shorts and placed a messy, loose-tongued kiss against her bare pussy.

Elain tipped her head back and moaned as his tongue laved greedily through her folds. She understood why he had waited for this until the call was over. With the added moisture of his tongue, and the way he slurped and sucked like he could have drowned happily in her taste, there would have been no disguising what they were doing.

Her fingers tangled into his hair, roughly pulling him closer. She let her nails dig against his scalp to urge and beg in ways her pride wouldn’t let her voice. Lucien grunted against her wet skin like he understood, hands finding her hips to pull them off the seat, giving him a better angle to fuck her against her tongue until she was nothing more than a mess of useless whimpers.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the word muffled and barely intelligible, but she could understand because she was thinking the same. Fuck. He garbled something else, something like, are you going to come for me?

And it was all Elain could do to say Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes—

Lucien had been winding a ribbon of flame slowly down her spine, and at this final pull it snapped, barrelling her towards him as blood rushed through her ears and for a moment, her vision blurred. Lucien licked her through it, riding her slowly down from the high until her fingers slackened their death-grip on his hair and she slumped back into her seat, gasping.

The restraints on her ankles fell away one at a time, then he pushed the chair back so he could rise to his feet.

His eyes met hers, pupils blown so wide they nearly swallowed the russet entirely. Her arousal acted like gloss over his full, smirking lips. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Elain was still trying to catch her breath, but she managed to whisper, “I was raised to be a good host.”

Lucien laughed, before the smile shifted to a grimace when he saw the time. “I should probably get going. You aren’t the only one with a meeting first thing.” He leaned forward, catching her mouth in his own with a kiss that was too long, and contained far too much tongue, to be a standard goodbye. “I’ll see you later.”

Later.

Elain thought a lot about later, once he’d left her sitting shell-shocked in her kitchen, shorts uncomfortably wet. What exactly encompassed later? This was all just for fun, and she didn’t know how often two consenting adults were supposed to meet for just fun. If she wanted to see him again this evening, did that make her clingy?

She waited until the final hour of the day before she returned to her office, wearing a pair of leggings that she was determined not to let him ruin.

“There she is,” he greeted once she sat down.

It felt safer looking at him through two sheets of glass. He was still devastatingly beautiful, looking nothing like the shirtless rogue who had gotten on his knees for her that morning. Now he wore a light brown pullover sweater, a white collar peeking out of the neckline. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows so that the white cuffs folded out. It shocked her. She’d forgotten, in all his debauchery, that he was actually a businessman. A respectable member of society.

Or so one would think, before they saw the smile that bloomed across his face.

“Are you nearly finished?” He asked.

Elain knew nothing good could come out of his expression. If she was smart, she would tell him she was working late, and go back to her kitchen. But she wasn’t smart. And she’d come into her office for a reason.

“Why?”

“I don’t have any more meetings,” he said with an innocent shrug. “Thought maybe you’d like to come keep me company.”

“I’m still working.” it felt at least like she was trying not to indulge her worst impulses.

Lucien gestured toward the computer in front of him, brows raised. “So am I.”

She had finished everything vital. Really all that was left was a few emails that she could get back to in the morning if she really needed to.

“I think you’re determined to get me fired,” she said. But for some reason, she was standing up from her chair anyway, gathering her work laptop and anything else she might need for a… change of scenery. What a nice way of labeling a booty call.

He answered his door quickly. Evidently there was no panicked cleaning on his part. No rushing to hide old plush toys and dirty laundry. At first, she thought it was because like so many other men, he probably didn’t care about keeping a standard of cleanliness.

But once she was inside, she noticed the organized shoe rack, the clean floors devoid of any clutter, and the neatly framed pictures on the walls. She thought that maybe there had been no panicked cleaning because the place had… already been clean. And if she didn’t think he’d been stupidly attractive before, then seeing the state of his house would have been effective in changing her mind.

“Same layout as yours,” he said, noting her scrutiny with a raised brow.

Elain couldn’t help looking at the photos in the entryway, many of Lucien with other redheaded boys, presumably his brothers. One of a pretty auburn haired women held in the arms of a large, dark-skinned man with a smile as wide as the sun peaking over the horizon. His parents? It felt inappropriate to ask, though she was suddenly stirring with curiosity about his life. The man behind the glass. Behind the wicked tongue and smart mouth.

But this was all just fun, so she swallowed her questions and followed Lucien into a room that she was familiar with, though she’d only ever glimpsed it looking in from the window. It was larger than she expected. There was so much beyond the small nook where he perched every day at his desk, and the dresser along the wall where she’d spied him changing. Now she could see the double bed tucked into the corner, neatly made and decorated with a butterscotch orange duvet that had four matching pillows. It looked soft, but she resisted the urge to run her hands across the fabric.

“This is… nice,” she said. What she really wanted to ask was, why did you put your office in your bedroom? What was in the other room that he dedicated so much space towards?

Lucien laughed. “Thanks.” He slid back into his desk chair and Elain paused, hovering awkwardly with her laptop in hand as she glanced around the room. Where was she meant to go? His bed, she assumed, but when she started to step in that direction, he called, “Elain?”

She paused. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?”

Elain glanced hopelessly towards the bed, then back to Lucien. His expression was beginning to make her wonder if she’d made a mistake coming over.

I’ll punish you for being a brat later.

“The bed?” She answered, knowing it was the wrong answer. Not knowing what she should have chosen instead.

“So soon? And I thought I was forward.”

Elain bit her cheek. His stare was getting heavier. More reproving.

“You know where brats have to sit?”

She stared back, still trying to decide what game he was playing and what part she should play. She blinked at him, doe-eyed and sweet.

Lucien didn’t fall for it. “Brats have to sit on my cock.”

“What?”

Smirking, Lucien unzipped his trousers, freeing his erection from his briefs. Her mouth went dry as he took himself into a large fist, pumping slowly down the engorged length. Arousal wept from the tip, gleaming against his flushed head.

“Take off your pants.”

Elain swallowed, still staring at the rosy tip. It was such a flattering color, the same shade as Lucien’s lips. She obeyed the command if only because this didn’t feel like a punishment at all.

“Good girl,” he praised, pumping himself again. Another fist wouldn’t have been enough to cover the entire length. “Now take off your underwear and come here.”

If she ran, would he chase after her, she wondered? Push her against a wall in the hallway and fuck her there like a wild animal? She didn’t want to stop and consider why that thought appealed to her as she slowly pushed her underwear down her legs, the weight of his gaze warming a fire in her gut.

Slowly, she walked towards him, eyes fixed on his thick erection, wondering if she was prepared for the stretch. Tension tangled around them, twining around her limbs, constricting her chest until Elain felt she couldn’t breath. When she sat her laptop down on the desk, the soft noise was somehow too loud.

“Face towards the window,” he said.

Elain turned, seeing her empty desk through the window.

Lucien was still sitting, his words landing at the base of her spine as he said, “I have the best view in the entire building.”

She fought a shiver. “It looks pretty boring now.”

A large hand cupped her backside, prodding gently at the tender bruises he’d left there the night before. “Not from where I’m sitting.”

Lucien’s hand slid up to her hip, tracing the shape of her figure with a gentleness that felt reverent, before he started slowly guiding her backward onto his lap. She yelped in surprise at the first nudge of his cock, but he went slow, easing the blunt head first through her folds to coat himself in her arousal. Then he hitched himself at her entrance and gently pushed his hips forward. Her breath fled on one long exhale, like her body needed the extra space to accommodate him as he eased her back, further and further, onto his cock.

It was so much bigger than two fingers. Elain couldn’t help whimpering a bit at the stretch, fullness bordering on pain while her body clenched painfully tight around him. Lucien's head fell forward against her shoulder, fingers iron tight at her hips to keep her from moving. She could hear him struggling to catch his breath.

“Fuck, Elain.” He groaned, taking several, shallow pants. “Fuck.”

It was rare to see him so surrendered. Elain couldn’t resist the opportunity to teasingly grind her hips backward, relishing that she was the one in control. Lucien made a choked noise in the back of his throat and Elain giggled, moving against him again. She cooed, voice ripe with pity, “Do you need a minute?”

“Brat,” Lucien rasped. He delivered a sharp tap to her clit, not hard enough to sting, but enough to make her yelp. “Here’s what’s going to happen. For the next thirty minutes, I’m going to finish work and you’re going to sit on my cock and stay still like a good little slut.”

Maybe it was the use of that word that kindled her defiance, made her back straighten, and dared her to ask, “Or what?”

“Or you’ll find out what happens to slutty brats that can’t behave.”

Spanking, she assumed. That had been her punishment for misbehaving before. As much as Elain told herself she shouldn’t enjoy the threat of being hit, nor the way he was speaking to her, there was no denying the way her body clenched around him.

Lucien groaned. “Christ, Elain.” He palmed the curve of her ass, thumb trailing prickling heat as it swept a wide arch along the purpled skin. She held her breath at the slight pressure. He was balancing her on an edge, knowing if his touch became any firmer it would cause her pain.

“I need you to stay still for me, baby,” he murmured, softer this time, partnered with a kiss against her shoulder. “Then I can play with my needy girl.”

The sweetness softened her, melting her body into compliance. She laid back against the hard slope of Lucien’s chest, and he hummed like he was noting his gentleness had subdued her more effectively than his dominance.

“Good girl.” The fingers at her clit moved in a slow, congratulatory circle. She sucked in a breath, shifting her hips at the unexpected friction. “Ah.” Another reprimanding tap. “Stay still. I’m not going to warn you again.”

Lucien withdrew his fingers. Elain resisted the urge to whine, knowing it would only get her further from what she really wanted: Lucien, pushing her forward onto his desk and fucking her senseless on the cock that was keeping her achingly, tormentingly full as it throbbed inside her.

“Enough of that,” he chided, feeling Elain’s body tighten from the fantasy.

She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to relax. Lucien’s attention had somehow returned to his laptop, arms bracketing either side of her body to begin typing out a response to an email. Her laptop stayed closed, fifteen minutes still left in her workday and yet she knew if she even attempted to send an email now, it would be completely incoherent. She could catch up later. And if anyone asked where she had gone for the final fifteen minutes, she would say she needed to run off for something urgent.

Though she wouldn’t believe Lucien had ever heard the word urgent in his life.

He leaned forward, chest pushing further into her back so she could feel every warm breath skitter along her neck. She shifted her weight, just to readjust, and Lucien’s cock twitched at the movement.

He said in a low voice, “That’s one.”

One spanking? Elain thought she could deal with that much, even if her ass was still sore.

“Sorry sir,” she purred.

A soft laugh, pouring over her like silky espresso. Rich and dark. “Two, for being mouthy.”

Mouthy, she thought. Between Elain and her sisters, she had always been the last anyone would describe as such. I’ll show you mouthy. But maybe not today. The idea of three spankings was beginning to make her feel nervous. So Elain held her tongue, fighting the ache that climbed her spine, begging her to roll her hips.

Lucien’s focus didn’t seem at all impacted, despite the evidence that he was very much aroused. Elain had to grit her teeth as she watched him write email after email. Until her palms were beginning to dampen where she clutched them at the end of his armrest.

“L-Luci—”

“Shh,” he hushed, pulling his hands from his laptop just long enough to tap her sharply on her neglected clit. Air rushed through Elain’s teeth as her entire body trembled at the touch, desperate for him to hold the pressure there just a little bit longer. She could hear the cruel smile in his voice as he said, “I need to focus, Elain.”

“But—”

“That’s three.”

Elain knew she could say their safeword and he would let her off, her three spankings forgotten. But while another 15 minutes sounded excruciating, so did the idea of giving up now, when she knew Lucien would likely take her to his bed the second he was finished with work to reward her for being such a good girl. She wanted to hear him say it, craved it nearly as much as his touch.

But as much as she wanted to be a good girl, Lucien had set her up for failure with this impossible task. He knew it, because he laughed when she wiggled her hips hardly five minutes later. She could feel herself dripping into his lap.

“Four,” he said. “You’re just getting greedy now.”

Lucien’s hands seized her hips, forcibly stilling her as he ground his hips upward. Elain let out a low moan at the sweet relief of friction and Lucien chuckled. “Is this what you want, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Her face warmed at the admission, but it was not any less flushed than the rest of her body.

“You want to come on my cock?”

“Please.”

“Of course,” he murmured, offering her another slow grind of his hips.

Then he stopped, and Elain could have wept at the loss of movement as Lucien reached into his desk drawer. Elain watched in horror, realizing he’d prepared for this. She was imagining paddles, maybe even a whip, but what Lucien retrieved was instead a small bullet vibrator. He held it out in front of her as he switched on, causing the machine to buzz as it vibrated in his hand.

“You moved four times,” he said, moving the vibrator between her legs. “So that’s how many times I’m going to make you come on my cock.”

“Wha—” The question shriveled on her tongue the second Lucien brought the device to her swollen clit. She cried out once it made contact, body immediately tensing at the foreign sensation. Then Elain began shaking—legs, knees, arms, trembling like every bone had been turned to liquid and sharp pleasure shocked through her.

“Lucien,” she gasped, grabbing onto his arm. Not to stop him, just to hold on, to have something to ground her body as it became untethered. All her awareness narrowed down to was the burning, consuming sensation wracking through her body.

“That’s it,” he groaned as her walls spasmed around him. “Come on my cock Elain, just like that. Good fucking girl.”

Elain was gasping as she came down from her climax, but Lucien kept the vibrator running, pressed firmly to her clit.

“That was one. Give me three more.”

The first one had wrecked her. Elain thought there was no way, none, that she would be able to repeat it three more times. But Lucien was merciless, ignoring the way she shook her head as her body continued trembling, unable to differentiate between sensations as one orgasm dived into the next, like a platform was pulled suddenly out beneath her and she was just falling—screaming as she went.

“There you go,” he cooed, stroking her hair like he wasn’t the one administering the torture. “Two more Elain.”

Tears stung her eyes. It was too much. The blunt metal vibrating against her clit was beginning to burn uncomfortably, pleasure that coalesced into pain.

Elain shook her head again. “Lucien, I can’t.”

But she didn’t say the word. And Lucien didn’t stop.

“I thought you wanted to come,” he said. “Wanted it so bad you couldn’t even sit still.”

The muscles in Elain’s stomach constricted. She felt suddenly like the dancer atop her jewelry box, being wound tighter and tighter. And tighter.

“Lucien,” she begged as the pleasure grew sharper, more unforgiving.

“You’re nearly there, baby”

Elain practically sobbed through her third orgasm, overwound and aching.

A soft chime saved her from Lucien pushing her through the fourth. Lucien swore softly, switching off the vibrator. Elain immediately slumped, so overcome with relief that it hardly registered that Lucien was getting a call from his work laptop. Until he lifted her, gently yet urgently, out of his lap and onto the floor.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said to her. “Just stay there a moment, Elain, I’ll get off this as quickly as I can.”

Then that was that. Lucien answered the call, leaving Elain utterly stunned beneath the desk as she recovered from the onslaught of orgasms he had inflicted.

Lucien inched his chair closer. “Hello Tamlin.”

His cock was still out, still hard and completely soaked in her arousal.

“Lucien. Amarantha just withdrew from the deal. I need you to chase her up and get her to reconsider.”

From Tamlin’s tone, and Lucien’s resulting sigh, Elain assumed it was something very serious. And well. How better to get her revenge?

“I supposed I could— fuck.”

Elain smirked, repeating the motion. She swirled her tongue around his flushed head as her fist found the base of his cock, gliding easily along the slick of her own arousal.

“Lucien?”

“S-sorry.” One of his hands came beneath the table, trying to push her away. Stubbornly, Elain took his head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks to suck. Lucien swore again. “Sorry, Tamlin. I’m just caught off guard. I thought Amarantha was on board.”

“Well, she’s not. And it’s your job to close the deal.”

“I know,” he said tightly, fingers scrabbling for purchase in Elain’s hair as she bobbed her head forward, trying to take more of him into her mouth. “Here, let me get off this call and I'll chase her now.”

“No,” Tamlin said. Lucien’s fingers tightened in her hair. “She withdrew because the Night Corp. undercut us. Find out what they offered her first.”

“Okay.” Lucien let out a soft grunt, hips bucking forward involuntarily when she ran her tongue along the underside of his cock. It forced Elain further down his length, and she tried not to gag as his grip pulled her forward, almost punishing. “I’ll get in touch with my contact at Night, and I’ll put together a new pitch for Amarantha in the morning.”

“Good. Don’t let me down.”

Elain recognized the distinct call ended tone. She expected Lucien to pull himself out of her mouth, to put her over his knee and continue the torture that Tamlin had interrupted, but he only tightened the fist in her hair.

“You want to suck cock?” He asked, voice as dark as the bruises on her ass. “Then suck.”

Lucien thrust forward, forcing more of himself into her mouth as his hands forced her head still. He was big, bigger than she’d ever taken before, but the added lubricant helped him glide further down her throat until her nose was against the coarse, curly red hair that decorated his pelvis. Elain spluttered around the thickness of him in the back of her throat, eyes swelling with tears as she fought her gag reflex, but Lucien held her still.

“You look so pretty on your knees, Elain.”

Elain made a muffled sound in response, causing Lucien to grunt at the resulting vibration. He rocked his hips against her mouth, slowly at first, then faster, bobbing her head at his chosen pace as he fucked into her throat.

“Do you like letting me use your mouth like this?” He asked roughly. “Fuck. Open that pretty mouth wide for me.”

His hips stuttered as he spilled into the back of her throat with a long, guttural sound that warmed every nerve in Elain’s body. She swallowed, relishing air again as Lucien pulled himself out.

Immediately, he jumped out of his seat to help her back up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice raspier than she expected.

Lucien smoothed her hair out of her face, frowning. “Would you like to go lay down? I just have one last thing I need to take care of at work, and then I will focus all of my attention on taking care of you.”

“Of me?” She repeated.

“Of course.” He swiped his thumb against the corner of her mouth, wiping away some saliva. “What we just did was intense. And you did such a good job. Go rest, pretty girl. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Elain’s legs still felt shaky as Lucien helped her walk over to his bed and sit down. She thought he would go back to his desk, but he immediately disappeared into his kitchen to return with a glass of water. He handed it to her with a kiss against her temple.

She drank slowly, watching beyond the rim of the glass as Lucien sat down at his desk and quickly typed out an email. He shut his laptop the moment he was finished.

“Do you need anything?”

The bed dipped beneath his weight as he came to rest behind her, pulling Elain against the front of his body.

“No,” she answered, content to relax into the soft hands that began wandering her body, rubbing soothing circles into her hips, her back, her stomach. He traced kisses along her shoulders and neck. Finally, she asked, “What is this?”

“Cuddling,” Lucien said, sounding amused.

“Why?” Elain asked. Then, afraid he would think she didn’t enjoy the cuddling, she clarified, “I thought you wouldn’t want to do stuff like this. Since we’re just having fun.”

Lucien shrugged. “The sex was fun. This is fun. If you’d like to, I could take you to dinner this evening. That would be fun, too.”

“Like…” Elain bit her lip. “A date?”

“I’d like it to be.”

“Okay,” Elain said softly.

She thought that she’d like that, too.

#Elucien #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfic #Elucien Fanfiction #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain

[ashpentagram]

somewhat nonsensical Stella rant I guess (spoiler alert: wasted potential)

I think the funniest thing, and also a somewhat disheartening and obvious jump in excitement via the writers was revealing Stella to be behind the attempted murders of Stolas so early in the show. You could argue that episode 5 of a 7 (planned to be 8) episode season is not early, but when you take into account the original plan for Helluva Boss was there was gonna be a drop of eight episodes over the course of a year and then another drop to round out the season, you can at least say that it wasn’t intended, at least at first, to be a short season. And that frustrates me, because taking your time is never a bad thing, especially with something indie. Make the larger season. Take your time with the writing and the episodes. Just be kind to your creation instead of dropping important filler for CHERUB.

Original point is that revealing Stella to be the one behind Striker in episode 5 was a bad move, even if her original plan was a great way to build a multifaceted villain in the simplest way possible. Basically the way I viewed her actions was:

- Stolas slept with an imp, a scandal just waiting to happen that would crumble Stella’s image and credibility as a royal

- Stella derives a plan to hire an imp (a lowest born) to kill Stolas, because she knew if Striker ever talked, her word outweighs his. An imp would be presumed to lie under any circumstance to bring down a royal. It’s the basic-ass class difference and racism that’s supposed to be so important.

- Stella keeps the throne due to Stolas’s untimely death, she gets to keep the money, she gets to keep the kid. She may not care about the kid, but Octavia has power regardless if Stella loves her or not. Octavia can marry into wealth, Octavia is more controllable than Stolas.

- Stella’s image is revered as a tragic princess whose husband was brutally murdered by an imp. She uses this to crack further down on imps and increases the advocation of their oppression. She remains on top.

-----

This isn’t me saying I want all of that to happen, I’m merely saying it because that’s what her motivations felt like they’d lead up to. That’s what she felt like as a villain. A vain, hardass who wanted to keep her image of a perfect family pristine and proper, while her screaming and abuse happened behind closed doors. She was sick of her husband, of being tied down by a spineless wimp, but his image to Hell was powerful so she put up with it and tore into him out of pure disappointment and hatred for where she ended up. I’m not defending her abuse, but I’m trying to give more depth than the disgusting “I like tormenting you” from s2e1 that basically all drove home from “my husband doesn’t fuck me well enough (because everything is about sex all the time), and he embarrassed me in front of my friends at tea time”.

There’s no depth for the torment she brings him. There’s no real panic or frustration or reason for what she does. There doesn’t have to be, abuse does not have to have a reason, but it is lazy when you praise your characters for being more complicated than they are. She does it because she was born evil and she enjoys making him suffer. That’s it. That’s her reasoning behind all of it. Not a fear of losing respect, not the drive to finally take control of her life, not her fury of Stolas risking everything they have for some lowborn cock. She honest to god would’ve probably been less pissed if he slept with somebody of higher status, somebody whose name actually meant something. It’d still be a scandal, but she could work with that sort of publicity.

The biggest issue is that the audience should not know about her before the protagonists do, even if that sort of trope can work if done well. The issue is, since the season is so short, and the episodes try to hamfist so much into each one in a desperate attempt to make up for lack of more episodes, they felt the need to reveal her in episode 5 when they really didn’t have to. That ending scene, while I do enjoy it because I like Striker as a concept, was played as a joke while trying to quickly revel in the fact Stella was behind it. The tonal dissonance between a pissed off boss finding out her employee failed the simplest task that she had planned on for presumably quite some time since it was an annual event Stella would know Stolas took part in, that was a lot of work she did only for it to fail. But of course, we apparently really needed to drive home that Stolas is such an idiot he doesn’t even notice his wife screaming about his planned murder right across the table from him, and that Stella is such an idiot she’d have that sort of call in front of her family in the first place. Because it’s just so funny when characters are stupid. It’s funny when we already know the characters are idiots - it’s not funny when we’re supposed to feel any sort of dread or worry or fear when villains are being villains.

If the audience had been teased at who it might be, but no canonical confirmation, it would have been such a massively better pay off when the audience received confirmation of something that’d merely be a theory at the time, especially if once we met Oz, he pointed out how stupid Stolas had been. It could’ve been written better with not a lot of dramatic change to the story, but they are blazing through suspense when they shouldn’t be.

Don’t look at this post and say I’m trying to defend her or her abuse, because genuinely I do not give a shit that she’s abusive, I give a shit that her one motive is being abusive because she was born that way + she enjoys being a monstrous bitch. You can make atrocious villains be bad for no reason, that’s not a bad thing. It’s a bad thing when you praise the villain for being so important and thought-invoking when in reality I could take a glance at her and tell you everything you need to know about her.

Also if we find out her brother is at fault for her behavior, jesus fucking christ I’m gonna be so done.

#helluva boss critical #stella helluva boss #long post

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

MAY 6TH "WHO DIED AND LEFT YOU IN CHARGE?”

Rope | Surprise | Warehouse || @themerrywhumpofmay​

(TCW: implied intimate whumper, threatening, restraints, semi-failed mission, implied gang/mafia trope, man handling, kidnapping)

“We both know he’s not coming up with the money, so we brought you a collateral,” A minion announced to the boss, throwing a squirming, restrained Whumpee onto the desk in front of them. The trek through the warehouse and into his office had been grueling, with them flailing around the whole time. 

“Who the fuck is this?” Whumper asked in irritation, “I said I wanted his kidney, or his money.” 

“This is his partner.” 

Whumpee thrashed in their multiple bindings but had been folded like an umbrella and wrapped with every rope and wire they could find in their home.

 Once they’d broken in and restrained them, the rest was easy work and they’d tied them up like bulk carpeting, wrapped around every flexible joint.

They muffled against their gag when their hair was yanked backwards and a man in a dark suit was chuffing on a cigar and examining them. 

“So you’re little man’s S.O, huh? Didn’t think he’d be the type to actually pull ass but I’ll give, you’re pretty in the face, not like the last one.” The boss mocked in surprise, giving a slow, ‘friendly’ push to their jaw with his fist like they were college buddies. 

“I gotta admit, she was a real ugly bitch, especially when she cried. God, killin’er was prolly a favor I did for your mans.” Whumper looked over towards the men that had kidnapped them and flicked his head towards the door, instructing them silently to leave and the knob clicked behind them. 

“Now listen doll, I don’t wanna do bad things to you because you’ve made some poor relationship choices, I’m not that kinda guy.” The boss slowly took a seat back in his chair and flicked out what Whumpee had only seen made into mock combs; a switch blade. 

Just the sound made their gut churn and they’d fallen still on his desk, not wanting to suddenly anger the man holding a knife. However, when he started to cut duct tape off of their feet and untie knots; they felt the smallest burst of relief in their chest. Even more so as strands of itchy fibers were sawed off and untwisted from their body parts. 

“So as long as you’re good and you listen to the boss, I won’t have any old reason to hurt’cha. I’ll even be a good guy and let you keep your clothes as a little luxury to the cause.” Whumpee couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not but the more freedom they felt, the more they listened to him and he could tell they were obliging by fear alone; even after he’d freed their mouth. 

“I just need that rat-fuck of a boyfriend of yours, to give me my goddamned money.” Whumper stabbed the knife between their knees and hit the desk; forcing a flinch from the unpredicted, plausible pain. They squeaked and Whumper laughed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I guess that wasn’t very nice.” He teased, taking the knife back out to flick back inside itself and nest back into his chest pocket. In the meantime, they saw the strap of an underarm holster. No doubt the gun inside was ready to fire. 

Once Whumpee was freed, they waited patiently, watching him lean back into his chair and roll closer. They stayed on the desk and only positioned to look towards him, on edge that they’d make the wrong move and he’d have a reason to take back his self-appraised words. 

“P-Please don’t hurt me.. I-I didn’t know he was involved in anything like this, I promise.” They offered earnestly and he shook his head, reaching out to give a heavy pat to theirs and sweep hair across their scalp. 

“You don’t look like the type, sweetheart, that’s why I’m being good to’ya. You can lighten up a little, I’m not unhinged.” He assured and they slowly positioned to sit on the surface, until he reached his arms out like he was welcoming them closer to him instead. 

The only way closer was to his lap, tall, long legs perched nearly even with the height of the cutout in the desk. He had to be enormous standing, they hadn’t paid attention prior. 

“C’mere doll, sit on the boss’ lap and I tell you a story, you know like it’s the holidays.” He assured, seeing nothing dubious or wrong in the position, nothing in comparison to how they felt. 

The sight of the weapons on him, made them think twice about hesitation and so they took his hands with trembling fingers. The transition was smooth and they sat on warm thighs in an instant, dipping more comfortably than they’d expected. 

“There you go, not so scary, huh?” He asked, another heavy hand pushing hair off their face and they were starting to realize he was just a rough character. Mindless to the weight he put into things, even while trying to be gentle.

“Now I’m not going to pretend.. Like this ain’t gonna be hard for you, to be stuck here, but I’ll take good care of you...” They heard it coming, before he’d ever said it. There was a price, if they didn’t want to die or get hurt. His first statement had been about organ robbing so they still, weighed every option they had in their mind. 

“If you take good care of me, peach.” He gave a pinch to their cheek, dragged a thumb across their lower lip. 

“So we gotta deal, cupcake? You listen to the boss and the boss’ll erase every memory of that fuckboy you used to know.” 

There wasn’t much choice, when he pulled them further onto his lap and they felt metal scrape into their calve. Cold steel. Another gun on his hip. 

“Y-You’re the boss... right?” They stammered at first, solidifying their guts as they swallowed in fear of their agreement. Quickly though, they saw his lips curling into a smirk and they finished their sentence; just to try to kiss enough ass to survive. 

“The boss makes the rules, in my book.”

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #whump prompts #intimate whumper #whump prompt #whump blog #the merry whump of may #who died and left you in charge #tw whump #tw implied noncon #tw intimate whumper #tw threatening #tw manipulation #tw manhandling #tw kidnapping

[rotten-rodentia]

Angry ranting

.

Yesterday I missed a dose of my meds, and I got triggered by seeing one of the ppl involved jn the divorce last year and went spiraling into trying to find info on all of those ppl which just upsets me more

And since I hadn't taken my meds, my brain wouldn't chill for even a second And then I was kept awake bc I was hungry as hell.

Fell asleep at 5 am, woke up at like 9:40. Less than 5 hrs

Filled out a bunch of medical info I need for my endocrinologist, and tried to order my insurance card for another damn hour on the phone with a robot

Got contacted by manager asking if I could clock in extra early for the 3rd time this week, usually I'm like hell yeah extra money but I'm glad I didn't go to work early

Work was so damn busy today that I didn't get to cleaning the lobby until it was almost time to close anyway. Both trashcans were overflowing and there was a huge stack of trays, I started taking out trash so it would STOP overflowing but then right on time to piss me off some customers come in and I HAVE TO HELP THEM CUZ THATS ALSO MY JOB but I had to finish the trash

But if I make them wait, then I suck at my job cuz were fast food and its totally my fault that I'm the only person in charge of cleaning the lobby, 3 bathrooms, serving indoor customers, serving call in and online orders, And serving Doordash which also pisses me off cuz we'll get several Doordasg orders and the drivers like to come in super early and just stand around, or sometimes leave if we take too long. BUDDY THW APP SAYSI HAVE 15 MINUTES TO MAKE THE ORDER, I'M NOT LATE UR FUCKING EARLY. But also sometimes I am late, BC INDOOR CUSTOMERS ARE PRIORITY.

Anyway why the fuck are jobs like this? Why am I doing the work of multiple people just bc my boss wants to keep the percentage of labor under 25%?

They always schedule 1 lobby cashier to serve customers inside/doordash/call in/online orders, and 2 drive through bc drive through is the busiest

Oh and guess who has to stock all the drive through sides too?the ones for easy grabbing in the fridge? FUCKING ME.

Sweeping the lobby and the kitchen, scrubbing off the front line and the display windows, OH AND IM A BACK UP DISHWASHER.

And then my dad can't pick me up and wants me to somehow uber both me and my sister, who is at a completely different location and got off work at a different time.

Oh and apparently that one coworker who goes "Deadname this needs done" when I'm in the middle of doing something she already asks, every single minute she does that, not only is that one of the reasons other coworkers don't like her (the nagging instead of waiting for us to be done with something or even just writing a list), but our coworkers have literally corrected her on my name and she still does it. She's not even a manager either and she just bosses everyone around cuz she was SUPPOSED to train us (which doesn't happen at this establishment btw)

Highlights of my day: I saw a planned parenthood worker which just immediately made me happy, and I told her how much I appreciate them and she said that made her day bc usually when someone notices the planned parenthood logo they think or say bad things about them. Also my uber driver had a van decked out in halloween decorations which was awesome, she's my favorite uber driver now. It felt like riding with family or a friend she was so sweet

#max #rant #angry #ik I'm so overstimulated #actually autistic #adhd

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that ��� the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader romance #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader romance #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen romance #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi #feral megumi #suki: 500 milestone event

[itsapeterthing]

Distraction || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

request: “bucky x reader where reader is really attracted to bucky’s fighting side while he’s defeating the bad guys?”

a/n: moved this request to the top because hello last episodes fight scenes were so good??

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of guns, getting shot, fighting, not really angsty, fluff

masterlist || request

“This feels like a bad idea.” You called to the two men as you followed them into the abandoned factory. 

“Trust me, Y/n. It’s going to be fine.” Sam assured you. “And when have I ever been wrong?”

As soon as the sentence escaped his mouth, both you and Bucky stopped in your tracks, turning to face Sam while quirking your eyebrows.

“Would you like a list?” You asked.

“I can think of a few-”

“You know what? Forget it. You two suck. It’s not important.” Sam said, cutting Bucky off, continuing his pace into the building. “What is important is that we catch these guys before they can do anything else, okay?”

Not inclined to argue, you continued to follow Sam’s lead with Bucky by your side. As you climbed up a rotted staircase, you couldn’t help but turn to stare at the super soldier by your side, gun ready in his hands. 

“Nervous?” He asked, not even turning to face you, but seeing the smirk playing on his lips, you knew he caught you staring out of the corner of his eye.

Embarrassed, you quickly turned away and faced the path in front of you.

“W-what? No.” You cleared your throat, attempting to mask how flustered he made you.

In the short time that you had known James “Bucky” Barnes, you had learned that he was expertly skilled in making you a flustered mess. The fact that he asked you if you were nervous was almost comical considering the most nervous you ever were was when you were with him- not because he was the winter soldier or because he had a vibranium arm or because he could end you in a second- but because he made your heart fill a little more every time he looked at you and you would melt every time you shared more than two words.

“Good. You shouldn’t.” He told you, finally turning to face you. When you felt his hand land on your arm, you met his eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked. “Why shouldn’t I? Fighting super soldiers isn’t really my area of expertise.”

He knew you were right.

Although you had spent nearly five years alongside the likes of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff during the blip, you weren’t nearly as experienced in truly fighting as the rest of them and you were especially amateur at hand-to-hand combat compared to the man in front of you.

You discovered during the blip that you had powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff. When you did, you sought the help of the remaining Avengers. Though you trained among the best, you were never truly taken to physical combat, instead expanding your knowledge on your power- magic- to use to your advantage.

Although Bucky Barnes was utterly fascinated by your abilities- unbeknownst to you- you still grew nervous in situations such as the one you were in now where someone could easily attack you before you had the chance to act.

“Sam already told you that they don’t have the serum.” He reminded you.

“Oh yeah, because Sam’s always right.” You laughed. “What happens if he’s wrong?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll handle it.”

Before you could even say anything back, you watched as he quickly went still before shoving you against the wall.

“Wha-” You attempted to whisper before he quickly shushed you.

His face inches from yours, you watched as he focused on the wall behind you, attempting to listen to what was going on around the both of you. Both you and Sam turned to face each other, questioning what was going on before you turned to face Bucky.

You would be lying if you said your heart wasn’t racing from the feeling of his hands on your arms, face inches from yours, so close you could make the details out on his face.

Before you could allow yourself to fall any deeper into the hole of your own thoughts, his eyes met yours, speaking to both you and Sam.

“I can hear them downstairs.” He whispered.

Before anyone could say anything else you watched as Sam deployed redwing from his own suit, the drone flying over the open room below.

“How many are there?” You asked.

“Ten.”

“What’s the plan?” You asked, looking between the two men.

Bucky pulled away from you finally and gestured for you and Sam to follow him up the remainder of the staircase. When you met them at the top of the steps, you found yourself on a balcony overlooking the large, open room of the factory below. When you hit the last step, Bucky pulled you into a crouch in between him and Sam as they scanned the room through the bannister.

“I think we should just go in now.” Bucky whispered and you were once again realizing how close you were to the man, feeling his breath on your face.

“I think we should wait.” Sam said.

“For what?” Bucky shook his head. “So they can realize we’re here? I have a vibraniu-”

“-vibranium arm.” You and Sam finished his sentence for him in unison.

Bucky scoffed.

“We know, man.” Sam said.

Bucky pulled himself up from his crouching position beside you. “I’m not going to wait up here for them to find us.” He told Sam, then turning to you. “You stay up here and make sure none of them leave. Keep an eye on them. Sam, you get the stuff and I’ll handle them.”

Both you and Sam turned to each other before looking back to Bucky.

“Are you sure about this, Buck?” You asked.

Bucky reached out his hand to you, pulling you to your feet. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Y/n. I got this.”

How could you say no when he said your name? Or anything at all?

Before another word could slip out of your mouth you watched as he ran down the steps you had just climbed a minute before to apprehend the men in the room below. Turning back to observe the area, you felt Sam stand besides you, the makeshift wings extending from his suit.

“When we see him, block off the room and I’ll go get the stuff, okay?”

“You’ve got it boss.” You told him, grinning.

He chuckled, placing the goggles over his eyes. “Good to know that cyborg hasn’t changed you too much.”

“Wait what-”

Before he could even reply, he took off and you leaned over the bannister, and your eyes immediately landed on Bucky, watching as he snuck up behind one of the men carrying a gun. He placed his vibranium hand on his shoulder, yanking him backwards and when he did, he pulled the gun out of his grasp with his other hand. As soon as he did, a gunshot rang from the gun, prompting the other men in the room to turn their attention towards Bucky. As they did, you snapped out of your own thoughts, stretching out your hands to create a forcefield around the room, blocking the men from escaping through any exits.

Although Sam used the distraction of the gunshot to his advantage, stealing the information he needed without any intervention, you watched as Bucky essentially took on ten men across the room.

With your arms still holding the forcefield in place, you couldn’t help but watch as the super soldier grabbed the wrist of a man coming after him with a knife, twisting his wrist in the opposite direction until it fell from the man’s hands onto the floor. At the sound of the clatter of the knife, he pulled the man towards him, kneeing him in the stomach and flipping him onto the floor, knocking him unconscious.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart begin to race in your chest- not because you were worried for Bucky, but because as much as you hated to admit it- it was hot. Although you struggled with hand-to-hand combat, Bucky made it look easy, taking on each man with giving any hint that it was strenuous.

Your job was simple- keep the forcefield up and make sure no one leaves. All you had to do was keep your arms up. What you weren’t anticipating, however, was for one of the men that should have been going after Bucky, to notice you standing on top of the bannister.

Just as Bucky noticed the man across the room, raising a gun to you, it was already too late.

You heard the shot sound from the gun and immediately after, a searing pain shoot throughout your upper arm. You immediately dropped your arms, your hand gripping the wound. The forcefield fell around you as you yelped in pain, falling against the bannister and onto the floor.

The next thing you knew you heard Bucky’s footsteps, stomping up the stairs as Sam landed in front of you. Pushing Sam out of the way, Bucky dropped to his knees besides you.

“Fuck.” He cursed, moving his hands to your arm. “Are you okay? I’m gonna go back down there and kill that guy, Y/n, I swear.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Buck. We got what we needed, right?”

Sam nodded, slipping a hard drive into his pocket. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re alright though? You just got shot.”

Prompted by his question, you finally pulled your hand away from your arm, noticing the tear in your sleeve where the bullet scraped through your arm. As you moved your trembling hands, you finally noticed the blood coating your palms. Bucky was quick to take hold of your bloodstained hand and examine the wound.

“Shit. I should’ve been paying attention.” He told you, shaking his head.

You shook your head, placing your hand on his shoulder. When he finally met your eyes you spoke.

“Don’t blame yourself, Buck. It was my fault.” You sighed. “I should’ve been paying attention. I’m sorry. I was... distracted.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

When you opened your mouth to speak, Sam- who was still standing to the side- cleared his throat. “Well... you guys seem to have this covered so I’m going to go ahead and meet Torres outside. I’ll leave you guys to... whatever this... is.”

And with that he left, this time making his way down the staircase.

An awkward silence existed between you and Bucky with his departure until Bucky finally spoke.

“What distracted you?” He asked again, still kneeling at your side.

You knew he wouldn’t let this go and you began hoping to whatever higher power there was above that he wouldn’t completely judge you and that your partnership wouldn’t completely fall apart.

“You.” You told him, shyly, refusing to meet his eyes.

You felt him shuffle closer to you, gripping your hand that was still in his.

“Me?” He asked. “What about me?”

Maybe it was the loss of blood or just the situation in general, but you couldn’t help but laugh. It only made the man beside you more confused.

“You know,” You began, finally meeting his eyes. “For someone over a century old, you can be really naive.”

What you didn’t know was that Bucky- along with his fascination for your powers- was infatuated with you. As much as the stubborn super soldier tried to hide it the best he could, he could feel his heart racing trying to piece together the situation.

“I’m not naive.” He told you, pretending to be offended. “You’re the one who just got shot when you could see the whole room in front of you. Some lookout.”

“Shut up!” You laughed shoving his arm. “I literally just got shot!”

Bucky laughed back before squeezing your hand.

“I’m serious. Just tell me. What was it?” He asked.

You looked up, met his eyes and smiled. You allowed yourself to take in his face, still a hint of a smile gracing his lips, trying to memorize the moment incase you were never able to experience it again.

“It was you, Buck.” You told him, sighing. “I was distracted... by you.”

“What-”

“I was distracted by you fighting.” You chuckled, now realizing you just got shot because you found Bucky Barnes knocking a man unconscious attractive. “And I know what you’re thinking, but I have to be honest- it wasn’t because I was worried about you. I didn't have to worry for a second.”

“Then why?” He asked.

You shrugged, feeling yourself grow flustered again. You could basically feel his eyes on you- he really stared a lot didn't he?

“Because... I thought you looked... hot.” You told him, physically cringing as the last word slipped out of your mouth.

In that moment, Bucky realized for the first time in eighty years that he had lost his “charm”. Although a part of him was so filled with confidence in knowing that you found him not only attractive, but hot while he was fighting, he had no idea what to say in a way that wouldn’t make him a stuttering mess which was the last thing he wanted to come across as in this moment.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that-”

“You like seeing me fight?” He asked finally.

You paused. 

“Yeah.”

Finally you felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief when you watched as a grin stretched across his face.

“I think you lost a lot of blood.” He laughed.

You swat him again. “Shut up! I’m being serious, Buck.”

“I just can’t believe you got shot because you liked the way I kicked some guy’s ass.” He teased.

“I always like the way you look.”

As soon as it slipped out of your mouth, you regret it, focusing your eyes on anywhere besides Bucky. Your undeniable feelings for James “Bucky” Barnes had really come to torment you today.

You began running through all of the ways to escape from the situation when he finally spoke up.

“I... like you too.” He told you, finally pushing himself off of his knees and onto his feet, looking down at you.

It took you a minute for your brain to register the information.

“You like me?” You asked, staring up at him.

“And I’m the naive one?” He asked, reaching out his hand to pull you up.

You gladly took his hand with your good arm, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I don’t believe you.” You told him, standing only inches apart.

He sighed, chuckling to himself before facing you.

“Remember two weeks ago when I got that bad gash in my side?” He asked and you nodded. “I was checking you out.”

Your mouth dropped, not even sure how to respond. You could barely even believe that after all this time of you getting flustered over every little thing that he did, he was feeling the exact same way about you. 

“No way!” You finally said, taking a step closer to him.

“Yeah um,” He chuckled, scratching where the chain of the dog tag met the back of his neck. “You looked... good.”

When your faces were only inches apart, you placed your hand against his chest, planting a kiss on his cheek before pulling away, smiling.

“No more getting ugly scars for each other, okay?”

He smiled.

“No promises.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff

[darkmulti]

Hello I love your work so much, you are my fav writer I love your style and the way you paint your ideas! <3

I know you must have a lot of requests but could you please do a hard dom CEO jungkook, with innocent reader. Would be nice if you can add corruption kink, degrading and non con. Thank you!

⚠️: NON CON, DEGRADATION, CORRUPTION KINK, INNOCENT!READER, VIRGIN!READER, slapping, choking

-> I’m glad you like my work!! Sorry for the wait tho😭

-> I didn’t “add” too much corruption kink because it’s kinda hard to incorporate corruption kink and non con

-> sorry for any mistakes

“Y/N! In my office now!”

The moment you sat down on your chair, your boss called you again

You quickly stood up and hustled into his office

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Is something wrong?”

You politely asked

“What the hell did you put in my coffee?”

“Regular, sir. Two milks and one sugar.”

“Did you check the expiration date on the milk?”

“Uh… no”

“God damnit! Are you trying to poison me, Y/N?! You can’t do the simplest tasks right! Get out of my sight.”

“Sir, I can make you another-”

“I said get out!”

You immediately left his office and sped off into your own

You closed the door gently before covering your mouth and bursting out into tears

The constant yelling and degrading was slowly breaking you down

He never appreciated any of your hard work, instead he focused on the small flaws you made

You knew you deserved better so that night you went home and wrote a resignation letter

The next day you went to work and gave it to Mr. Jeon

“Mr. Jeon, this is my resignation letter. I can’t work here anymore. It’s not good for my mental health.”

He poked his inner cheek with his tongue and crumbled the letter

“You have to give me a two weeks notice. That way I can start looking for your replacement. However, I have a business trip next week and you have to come with me.”

“What if I find someone that can take my place?”

“No, I want you to go with me and that’s final.”

Next week

You were at the airport with your carry on bag in hand and your passport in the other

Jungkook was in front of you, leading the way to the private jet

Once you both were seated, he poured himself and you a drink

“So, tell me why you want to quit.” He said, taking a sip of his Blue Label whiskey

You didn’t want to tell him the real reason, which was because of him

You thought it’d make the trip more awkward if he knew that you were quitting because of him and you also didn’t want to sound mean

So the best excuse you could come up with was that you found a more suitable job

You told him lies after lies, thinking that he was believing you

Little did you know, Jungkook could see right through you

He knew the real reason you were quitting was because of him

He was purposely cruel to you and you’ve finally reached your breaking point

It was amusing to him

Did you really think that you could trick him?

How cute

Jungkook knew that whole suitable job excuse was a lie because he keeps his eyes on you all day and night

While you were asleep, Jungkook broke into your apartment and installed tiny cameras all around

So he could keep an eye on you

He also hacked into your phone and installed a tracking app, just in case

He got access to all your emails, social media, phone calls, photos, text messages — ect.

Anyways, back to the private jet

You were in the back of the jet sleeping since it was a long flight and you get air sick

You felt something around your waist so you looked down and see a tattooed arm

You immediately recognized who it was and got up, waking up Jungkook in the process

“I- I’m sorry, sir. You should’ve woke me up and I would’ve given you the bed.”

“It’s fine, we’re about to land anyways.”

After you guys landed, you both headed towards the car in the hangar

The driver took you both to a luxury hotel

The building itself was super unique

The transparent, rooftop pool was definitely something you were looking forward to

Jungkook had paid for your hotel room

You guys had rooms right next to each other so it’s more convenient for him

It was still 10 in the morning, so Jungkook allowed you to sleep for a little while but by 12pm, you guys had to leave for an important meeting

The afternoon was packed with meetings, presentations & preparations for a small business party

You were exhausted because Jungkook kept you running back and forth while he was sitting on his ass

By the end of the day you were tired as hell, but luckily everything went smoothly

Jungkook seemed to be okay with how everything turned out

You were relieved to say the least

He’d usually find something to complain about

It was 10pm when you both arrived at the hotel

Jungkook said he was going to go shower and sleep so you bid goodnight and went into your room

Even though you were physically and mentally exhausted, your mind couldn’t fall asleep

You figured it was because of the amount of coffee you consumed

Since you couldn’t fall asleep, you decided to put on your swimming suit and go upstairs to try out the pool

Once the elevator doors opened, you were surprised to see so many people on the rooftop dancing and drinking

You still went to the pool even though it was loud and packed

On your way to the pool, you accidentally bumped into a group of guys

They notice your somewhat revealing swimming suit and offered a drink

You were going to reject but all of them were pressuring you to have at least one drink with them, so you stupidly agree

One drink turned into two and so on

You started dancing with the guys and they were all cheering you on

This was it

This was the attention you were craving for

You were a little wasted but still had your senses

You held one of the boy’s hand and took him to the swimming pool

“You said you were good at swimming… so make sure I don’t drown.” You drunkly said before jumping in

The man chuckled at your behaviour and jumped in afterward to make sure you don’t do anything dumb

After swimming, you had more drinks and danced more with everyone

The night was going so well until someone pulled you away from all the chaos

“Heyyyy, what’re you doing man? The party’s over there.” You said, pointing back to the crowd

He wasn’t responding so you tried to look at his face but the lights were burning your eyes

You looked down at his arm and recognize his tattoos

Once you realized who he was, it was too late

“M- Mr. Jeon, why’re you up so late?”

He brought you back to his room and shoved you in

Jungkook pushed you against the door and slapped you hard

It brought you back to reality real fast

“Are you dumb, Y/N?! Going upstairs without telling me anything, drinking and dancing with men you don’t know— do you know how dangerous that is?! Is your head hollow?!” He yelled in your face and hit the side of your head a couple of times, checking if it was hollow

“Do you know what they would’ve done to you if I didn’t come?! Let me fucking show you.”

He pushed you towards the bed and you slipped because of your wet feet

You started backing away from him, but you knew you were doomed when your back hit the side of the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please. I was just trying to have fun-” another hard slap landed on your cheek and this one was enough to make you tear up

“Fun? You want to have fun? Okay then, let’s have some fun.”

He pulled you up by your wrist and pushed you down on the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please! I’m so sorry! I don’t know how it all happened!”

You were sobbing at this point because Jungkook looked terrifying

He was beyond pissed and his eyes were showing it all

“You think a “sorry” can fix what you did?! You’re so fucking stupid! This is why I yell at you all the time because your dumb, little head knows nothing. Without me, you wouldn’t be living so comfortably. I give you a good pay, so you can pay rent, buy food and clothes without worrying about money. But, what do I get in return? A resignation letter…” he scoffs before continuing “… You’re just a dumb, naive, whore that would be homeless right now if I didn’t take care of you. Maybe this is why your parents abandoned you.”

Your bottom lip started to wobble and before you knew it, you were bawling your eyes out in front of him

His words were so harsh, you weren’t ready for it at all

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You apologized over and over and over but he still wasn’t satisfied

“H- how can I make it up? Please, give me a chance.”

His hand went towards your private area and you started shaking your head profusely

“No, no, no… anything but that please…”

“Well, there’s nothing else that you have that I want.”

“I’m n- not comfortable though.”

Jungkook grabbed your face and stared deep into your eyes

“Does it look like I care?”

Jungkook continued on

He ripped your swim suit off and pulled down his pants

“Please be gent-”

You screamed when you felt him push into you

You grabbed his arms and tried to push him away but he easily dominated you

He pinned your hands above your head and spat down on his cock for some lube

Without any warning, he pushed his full length in, causing you to squirm around and cry

Your purity blood dripped down onto the bed sheets while you kept pleading for him to stop

“Mr. Jeon, please! I- I was sa- saving till marriage.” You sobbed

“That’s even better. Now we can get married.”

“No! No! I don’t want that.”

Jungkook pushed your legs apart and started going at a fast pace

“You don’t want to get married to me? Well, that’s too bad because I don’t care about what you want.”

Each of his thrust were powerful and rough

He wrapped his hand around your neck so anytime you rejected him in a way, he’d squeeze until you’d shut up

Your face was hot and red from all the slapping and choking

He covered your neck in hickeys

All night, he was fucking you

The headboard was banging against the wall so hard, it left dents in the wall

There was cum overflowing out of you, but Jungkook still didn’t stop

He pounded you until your body gave up on you

You couldn’t fight anymore

You weren’t talking, crying or moving

All you could do was whimper softly when it really hurt

Jungkook noticed you were on the verge of passing out, so he quickened up his pace and came into you before collapsing on top of you

“You would’ve been in so much more pain if I didn’t save you from those guys. So what do you say to me?”

You weakly open your eyes and look into his

“T- Thank you.” You whisper softly before falling unconscious

Decided to end it here bc I don’t have the brain power to continue writing. Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 2am

#jungkook smut #bts smut #non con #bts yandere #yandere bts

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #spencer reid request #reid request #reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #professor spencer reid #prof reid #prof spencer reid #prof!reid #professor reid #post prison spencer #post prison reid #post-prison reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid self insert #my gif

[multiplefandomsblog]

Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o replacing them with a plushy

request; Rantaro, Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o giving them almost 0 attention because they’re giving all their love to a plushy? Lol no cuddles for them- plushy’s too cute

warnings; fluff, lots of cussing, unedited, gender-neutral reader, implied human strangulation, strangulation of a stuffed animal, stuffed animals, jealousy?? minor neglecting, comfortyyyy, angst but like, so little angst, hard days at work :(

note; i didn’t do Rantaro’s because i did something similar, right here! also, sorry for making fuyuhiko’s so much longer— i don’t even know why i wrote that much, i have no reasoning-

Kokichi Ouma

“S/oooooo~? I’m cold, can we cuddle-?” Bright purple eyes widened, and a look of pure unfiltered betrayal dawned over his face, it almost looked as if you had poured the expression over his face. His eyes darted towards the plushy in betrayal; his expression almost convinced you that you had accidentally cheated on him. “K-Kokichi? What’s-” You were suddenly very rudely interrupted by his obnoxious shriek of horror—

“UWAAAAAAH! You’re-!” He snortled like a child, inhaling in all his snot loudly and grossly before screaming, “So! Mean!” Wincing at the loud and exaggerated sobbing, you frowned at him, only bringing the plushy closer to your chest. “You can’t guilt me into hugging you instead, Kokichi- Hey— Hey! Stop!” Before you could finish your sentence, Kokichi had pounced on you, his devastated expression from earlier long gone, as now his eyes shone pure rage. 

He was strangling the fucking stuffed animal.

Kokichi may be the hugest liar you will ever meet in the world, but he keeps to his word, that he’ll do anything for love. Even strangling someone.

And in this case, the ‘someone’ was a lifeless stuffed animal.

“K-Kokichi! You fucking dumbass— What do you think that’ll even do!? Kill it!?” You cried out, straining as you tried to yank the plushy away from his iron grip. “Stuffed animals can’t breathe!” Kokichi replied in between grunts, white knuckles gripping the plushy tight around its.. its neck. “Not after this, it won’t!” Cackling victoriously, the gremlin finally managed to pull the plushy away from, and the extraordinary momentum had thrown it across the room. 

“Kokichi! That was my favourite-” Your words had been taken away from you as Kokichi suddenly jumped you, tackling you to your bed as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. “I thought I was your favourite..” His voice was soft, the innocent, puppy-dog tone almost had you cave in. Almost.

“Kokichi…” You whined, “I want my plushy back; you’re too heavy.” Kokichi pinched your back, prompting a squeal out of you, “I’m not heavy, you meanie!” You squirmed, sitting up with the boy clinging to you on your lap. “You didn’t have to pinch me, you ass.” Mumbling, you shuffled up, chest feeling as if it had been crushed by the boy sticking to you. 

Kokichi didn’t reply to your insult, instead, shifting closer to you before stilling, almost like dried clay. “Nishishi! Now you’re all mine!” You stifled a smile, “What? Were you jealous of a plushy?” Kokichi shook his head, grin wide and bright as always, “Of course not! It never had a chance against me so I wasn’t even a little worried!” That was a lie. He was scared if you had gotten too attached to the plushy, you’d rather the plushy’s hugs instead of his—eventually, never hugging him again. Kokichi shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t know, the plushy doesn’t—you know—pinch me so..” Kokichi gripped tighter onto you, making sure to prevent your leave before sighing dramatically, “Fine, I’m sorry, okay? Now just promise to always hug me instead of that stupid pillow, kay?” Kokichi spoke in an annoyingly cute voice— but despite being shrill to your ears, you couldn’t help but melt as you heard the real meaning to it. The meaning behind his little act. In a frustratingly teasing voice, you tantalized him. “So you were jealous.”

Kokichi snorted dismissively, grip not loosening, “Nishishi! Why would I be jealous of a plushy? You’re lucky to even be touching an Ultimate Supreme Leader!” It was ironic, seeing as how you hadn’t even been hugging him back, let alone touching him—to which he had painfully noticed, and disliked. Yet he was acting like you were the one who had been strangling a toy for him.

His grin faltered, and you could catch the almost unnoticeable flash of jealousy that shone in his purple eyes. But despite the small tell, you let him win this round, you neglected him enough. you neglected him for less than a minute before he pounced on you, mans was insane.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

Fuyuhiko had just gotten back from a rough day at work, he sighed as he opened the door, he was extremely exhausted from doing— what was he doing? Well, he’s a Yakuza, that’s a secret. “S/o, I’m home..!” His voice sounded drained, though relieved, he was finally home and all he wanted was to cuddle you— Ah. But it seems you’ve chosen a plushie over a real-life man. 

Fuyuhiko’s eye fell on the sight of you, snuggling a plushie whilst you watched a movie. He pouted, he was always the one you snuggled. Betrayal ran through his veins; what had changed? Did you not love him anymore?

No, I’m kidding; he’s just being a drama queen.

Despite his sulky demeanour, he refused to beg for your attention just so he could get your.. your soft and warm cuddles... that make him feel safe no matter where he was.

... Well, he tried to refuse. It seems, even Yakuza bosses couldn’t refuse the uncontrollable want to be in your arms. Could you blame him? The man just wanted to be held by his partner. 

He wasn’t going to admit that though. The boss baby had too much pride to demand cuddles, unlike Kokichi-

So he decided, you were going to be given the silent treatment. Yes, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the ultimate Yakuza boss was planning to give you the silent treatment(and fail). It didn’t seem like he needed to anyway, you had been so invested in the movie you didn’t even hear him come in, nor did you greet him like you usually did. Sheeesh, that one must have hurt.

Fuyuhiko furrowed his brow and waited for you to notice him, dropping his shoes on the ground twice. It wasn’t until he started jangling his keys aggressively and slapping his bag against the counter, did you actually notice his presence. After you finally did, you spared him a meek hand wave before bringing the same arm back around your plush tightly. “Oh. Hey, Fuyu.” 

You didn’t even turn your head to look at him.

He simply stared at you, you who had just snuggled closer to your plushy— were.. were you giving it head pats!? His frown deepened, you were just doing it on purpose at this point. 

Scoffing, he sat next to your spot on the couch, glaring daggers into the plushy as you seemed distracted with the TV in front of you. He felt his heart sink as you didn’t cuddle into his side like you usually did. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned into the armrest opposite to you, feigning a grudge. 

He couldn’t even get comfortable on the armrest, he kept shifting every 5 seconds just to get your attention and because he really couldn’t seem to get comfortable on the chair. Fuyuhiko watched you with wide, astounded eyes as you only seemed to stuff your face in the plushy. And yup, you guessed it, he caved in. “Tch... if you’re mad at me for something, can you just tell me what I did wrong? This... plushy bull crap is irritating me.” You turned your head to finally look at him in surprise, he thought you were mad at him?

“Huh?” You perked your head up from the plushy, attention completely on him now. He felt embarrassment wash over his entire body; had you not been doing it on purpose?

“N-nothing- whatever, it’s nothing.” Fuyuhiko’s face flushed, your sudden attention on him; he hadn’t gotten used to it.

Drilling your eyes into him, you sent him an unconvinced look, but shrugged anyway— He’s a grown-ass man, if he wanted cuddles, he can ask for them. 

Fuyuhiko sulked as he watched you turn away, it obviously wasn’t nothing. You turned your head back at him as you heard him mumble something. Looking at him with a feigned-confused expression, you cocked your head to the side. “What’d you say?” 

He flushed and looked away, unconsciously scooting towards you, “I- You can cuddle me instead of that pillow, if you want or whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He murmured, moving to stand up. “Never mind.” You grinned at his brooding demeanour, yanking his hand back onto you and throwing the plush somewhere, “Okay, okay! I was just joking with you, I know how much you want my hugs.” 

He fell with an ‘oomph’ against your body, face blank as his mind didn’t seem to register what had happened yet. 

Ohh, but the moment he felt the warmth spread throughout his body, he let out a sigh of relief. “You’re such a cute fucking asshole.” You laughed at his somewhat compliment, somewhat insult, letting him wrap his arms around you tight. You could feel his body relaxing on top of you, and in response, your own shoulders dropped in relaxation. ‘Yessss..! This was the shit.’ Fuyuhiko’s bad day at work had been long forgotten, as his mind was currently occupied with running thoughts of you.

#mod chia #kokichi x reader #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi fluff #kokichi headcanons #kokichi ouma #drv3 kokichi #drv3 killing harmony #super danganronpa 2 #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #fuyuhiko x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #fuyuhiko imagine #danganronpa fuyuhiko #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa fluff #danganronpa oneshot #fuyuhiko #sdr2 fuyuhiko #fuyuhiko headcanons

[dreamescapeswriting]

Curiosity Killed The Cat ~ LMH & LF [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

PAIRING: Minho x Fem!Reader x Felix

GENRE: consensual smut, Hitman au, mentions of death, assisnation, bombings, blood, face riding, oral, threesome, M/F/M, after care, no protection

A/N: Please I had so much fun with this! I love writing AU’s so much!!! 🥺🥰💗 Hope this is okay for you my lovely little anon!

"If you don't stop tapping that pen I'm going to shove it so far down your neck you'll whistle when you breathe," Minho growled in Felix's direction as they sat together in an old beat-up car. All Felix had done for the last four hours was tap and click the pen over and over again deciding that he was single-handedly going to be the one driving force that made Minho want to quit his job.

"I don't see anything else to do," Felix countered as he stared back at his partner who simply glared at him before looking out of the window again. It was a stupid idea to stake out a university it looked suspicious that two men were waiting in a car outside but it was the bosses orders. Stake out the school and wait for the suspect to come out but it felt creepy. Although it was a university and most of the students were their age it was strange to them both.

"Have we actually seen him go in?" The truth was no one had seen the guy that they were after in almost seven months, he was good at hiding which was why he was nicknamed "The Chameleon," something Minho hated. Why give the bad guy a name it was only going to boost the ego even more. 

"He's supposedly acting as a student," Minho handed the folder over to Felix keeping his eyes on the door, the Chameleon could walk out right under your nose and no one would have an idea it was him. 

"Why a student? Surely it would be feeling for him to be a teacher," Felix flicked through the folder the guy was a serial bomber that his company had been after for years. He'd killed almost over 100 people with no remorse whatsoever. It was as if the guy was a robot, he didn't care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted, not that anyone knew what that was. His clues were always so vague. One thing for sure, it wasn't money that he was after. 

The government had tried to pay him to stop the needless killings only for the guy to blow the bag up in the middle of the street. 

"Easier to hide...Won't be so obvious when things go missing around the school...The student we're looking at fits his usual MO." Minho sighed taking a deep breath and looking at Felix for the first time in an hour. It was beginning to worry him the closer the two of them got to catching the guy. Their job wasn't a simple catch him and arrest him, no, they were the last resort. Kill him on sight as soon as they know, without a shadow of a doubt that it's him. Assassins or as they were better known as now, Hitmen. 

"Transfers in the middle of the year, things from the science department go missing and then there's the-" Right as Minho was about to explain that there were constant fire drills the alarm began to blare out through the school. 

"Those," He mumbled staring back over at the double-doored exit from the school. There was no use sitting at the entrance when they knew he liked to hide from everyone, if he was the one doing this they needed to find him and quickly before anyone else got hurt. 

"Another drill?" You mumbled looking to your left to see your best friend Mina smirking at you, you rolled your eyes knowing why she was so happy. Thanks to the fire alarm she was going to get out of her final exam and pass it no matter what, 

"It wouldn't surprise me if you were the one pulling them," You mumbled sarcastically as you pulled your satchel over your shoulder, looking around for her so-called boyfriend. 

"What did you do? Get Farara to pull it?" You teased as you jabbed your elbow into her side, walking out into the courtyard and taking in a deep breath, 

"You need to relax, we've just finished exams and you're still studying," Mina rolled her eyes at you, it was always the same with her. She wanted you to let your hair down and relax while you wanted to focus on things that were important to you, like actually passing your course. 

"I have another two years to go, you're done. I'm just getting started." You reminded her as you looked around, you loved Mina with all of your heart but since meeting Farara she seemed to be getting in trouble more. Not only with the university but with the police. Just last week you'd been called down to the station to bail her out because she was caught driving around in a stolen car with enough products to set a whole house on fire. 

"Take a year off, come with me and Farara to England. He's going to take me away and spend time with his family." The more you heard about the guy the more worry began to grow inside of you. She'd hardly known him and yet she was planning to run away to a different country with him,

"What does he even do for a living? To get all of this money?" You questioned hoping she wouldn't get too annoyed with you asking her about him. It seemed as though whenever you asked questions she would get pissed at you, claiming that you were just trying to poke holes in their "relationship,"

"What does it matter?" She stared at you with a disgusted look on her face, 

"Hey, baby!" A voice cried out as a pair of strong-looking arms wrapped around Mina.

"Snuckums!" She practically squealed making you jump as she turned around and began making out with him grotesquely in front of everyone. 

"That's my cue to leave," You said loud enough for them to hear, turning to head home to your dorms when Mina grabbed your arm. 

"Party tonight. Come with us," She begged looking at you with pleading eyes, as you were about to decline Farara scoffed at the thought of it. 

"Y/n? At a party, don't make me laugh. She's the party pooper baby, she doesn't know how to have fun." For some reason, the anger bubbled up inside of you and it seemed to annoy you more. If Mina had been the one to say it it wouldn't have bothered you as much but from him, you wanted to prove him wrong. 

"I'll be there. Text me the details," You smiled smugly in his direction but he just seemed to smirk, it made you feel uneasy to see him smirking at you like that. 

"This will be great! A going-away party right baby!?" Mina squealed before making out with him once again.

After spending almost four hours trying to pick something to wear you finally felt ready to go and headed straight to the party. It was at the frat house Farara had been living in since he got to the university. The whole walk over from your dorms you could have sworn someone was following you along. 

"Glad you could join us, take this." Mina handed you a drink and then laid a flower necklace around you before disappearing into the house leaving you alone. 

The whole house seemed to be partying hard, loud music was blaring for different speakers each of which was playing a different song. People were already yelling and dancing drunkenly along the floor and not to mention someone throwing up in a flower pot. 

"You came pretty late, didn't think you were going to show," Farara smirked once he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You hummed before putting down the cup Mina had given to you, there was no way you were going to drink that night. Not unless it was water at least. You didn't know anyone besides Mina and she was clearly preoccupied with other things.

"We have juice boxes in the basement," Farara joked earning a laugh from someone else in the kitchen but Mina pushed him softly. 

"Leave Y/n alone, she came and that's all that matters. Come on, let's go dance." She pulled you straight into the living room without giving you a chance to answer her. 

"Isn't this fun?! I'm so sad you never got to have parties all year," She pouted at you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she swayed in time to whatever song she heard first. The mixture of the songs and stench alcohol all starting to hurt your head the longer that you stood there but you were at least going to wait an hour before heading home. 

"What the fuck are we doing?" Minho mumbled as he stared down at the jeans and shirt he was wearing, Felix had dressed in the same outfit only a different coloured shirt. When Felix suggested going to the party Minho didn't think he meant actually attending it.

"We're blending in." He chuckled laying one of the flower necklaces around Minho's neck who stared at him with a filthy look the moment it touched his chest. 

"What better way to find out information than going to the people that know the guy." It still didn't make Minho feel any better about being at some kind of dumb University frat party. Everyone was drunk and drooling over one another except for the girl that they had followed over, you. 

"Look," Minho nudged Felix and nodded in your direction as they watched you heading for the bathroom alone. You stood out amongst the rest, instead of dancing or drinking you were simply looking for a bathroom and keeping your head down. They only knew about the party because they'd overheard you and Mina talking about it earlier that day. 

"She looks like she could be here to help, we saw them speaking with one another earlier," Minho reminded Felix but he shook his head,

"She does look like she wants to be here, they didn't look like they liked one another." Minho shrugged his shoulders as he thought back on it, 

"All good acting," The two of them weren't sure if Farara had a partner this time but in all of his other bombings, he had someone. Someone who would take the fall for him, usually the good girl gone bad once they met him and fell for his traps. Promising them a life of happiness in another country, planning everything out so it would seem as though he truly loved and cared for them when he didn't. 

"I'm just saying we find The Chemelon, take care of business and leave," Felix whispered as they made their way through to the kitchen when they saw him. A loud laugh spread through the air that physically sent shivers down their spines, watching as he left out of the kitchen door and down the back garden. 

"Follow him," They said in unison as they headed out of the same door, keeping their heads down as they tried to see what it was he was doing. 

Stepping out onto the back porch you took in a long deep breath of the cold air, it felt nice to have it circulating through you instead of the stuffy air from inside. Mina had begged you to stay once she caught you trying to leave, making you promise her that you wouldn't go anywhere until she found Farara who had run off leaving her in charge of the party. In your mind, he was out fucking someone else since he seemed like a player but you weren't about to tell one of your best friends that. 

The longer you stood there the more you wanted to go home but as you looked down at the end of the garden you frowned. Inside the small shed, there was a flashing light coming through the window and you could have sworn you heard someone grunting. 

"I swear to god if this is Farara I'll murder him," You mumbled to yourself as you began to walk towards the building. All you were going to do was look through the window, if it was him you'd find Mina and tell her. If it wasn't him you'd just act as though you hadn't seen anything but the closer you got the more uneasy you began to grow. Something inside of you was telling you to turn back but you weren't about to let your friend get cheated on by some good for nothing low-life.

"Tell us what you're planning and maybe we'll let you off easy," Felix whispered in Farara's ear from behind him. They'd followed him out and found him packing up a suitcase which meant the bombing was sooner than expected from him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," The boy stuttered as he stared between the two men in front of him, both of them had guns on display to intimidate him into speaking. As if being strapped into a chair with garden rope wasn't scary enough for him.

"Look, we know who you are. Just tell us where the bomb is," As soon as the word bomb left Minho's mouth he heard a gasp and branch snap from outside the shed. His eyes met with Felix and he nodded over to the side door where Felix could easily get out without being seen. 

Stepping back from the building you tried to move out of the way but ended up backing into someone who pushed you back to the window. Forcing you to stare through it as the man inside shot Farara in the chair he was strapped to. There was no sound from the gun you just saw a blur before Farara dropped forward, lifeless in the chair as blood pooled from the small entrance wound in his head. A small scream was building up in your throat but before you could say a word a hand was covering your mouth and you were ushered into the shed. 

"Clean up to Agents 322 and 366," The man who had killed Farara said down a small earpiece looking over at you with a small smirk on his face, 

"What a curious little kitten," Felix purred in your ear as he ran his fingers up and down your cheek making you shiver, 

“Curiosity Killed The Cat you know,” Minho chuckled as he looked over at you from his phone.

 "I'll ask you once, and only once." Minho lowered himself to your level, looking you in the eyes. 

"Do you know who he's working with? Your friend maybe? Could she have known what he was planning?" Bile rose up in your throat as you watched the blood pooling onto the floor, running along to Mino's shoes as he stood there. 

"Mina. S-She wouldn't have know...I don't think," You looked back at Minho, the gut feeling inside of you seemed to subside as you looked at him and Felix who was now standing in front of you. 

"You don't seem scared that we just killed your friend?" Felix questioned looking from the body and back to you, your eyes get dancing to and from Farara, half expecting him to jump up and have this be some kind of joke. 

"A friend? I didn't know him and he did nothing but belittle me...What was it you said about a bomb?" Curiosity began to build in Minho as he watched you, there wasn't even an ounce of fear towards them from you. 

"Have you heard of the Chameleon?" The realization hit you as you stared at Farara. 

"He fits the MO." You mumbled shocking Felix who just seemed to stare at you in disbelief. 

"You're training to be in the forces?" Minho asked as he laid a garden sheet over the body, your eyes staring back at him this time. 

"My father was an FBI agent, I know some things...I know you're not FBI." A smirk plastered across Felix's lips as he watched you and Minho interacting the way you were. It was the first time he'd ever seen Minho act so casually with someone in months, not to mention he seemed laid back. 

"How do you know that?" Felix quizzed looking over at you as he folded his arms over his chest. 

"For starters, neither of you have a badge otherwise you would have shown me by now, your guns aren't standard issue for agents...So you're hitmen...That or random psychopaths." Minho blinked at you before standing up straight when he heard a knock on the door. 

"Clean up crew," Minho pulled the door open and ushered you out with Felix on your other side. 

"Do you need help with her?" A female voice asked as you turned your whole body to see a female staring at you. 

"No thanks, you go and clean up. We'll take her home." Your eyes shot up to the one with the deep voice, Felix, and you frowned. 

"We'll make sure you get home safe," Minho added when he could see how confused you were. 

Leading you over to their car you stared at it, it was the same car that had been following you earlier. 

"You followed me here," The back door opened and you crawled inside, looking around at all of the empty food packets. 

"Ignore the mess, we were on a stakeout," Felix chuckled as he got into the front passenger seat and glanced back at you. 

"I'm Felix and this is Minho," He shook your hand and you felt a spark ignite inside of you. The way his hand fit around yours made you shiver a little, 

"Look at that, someone liked your touch Lix." Your eyes shot to Minho started up the car and smirked at you through the small review mirror. 

"Give us your address kitten," The small nickname made you clench your thighs as you could feel an aerosol building. After giving them your dorm address you began trying to pull yourself back together, you'd just watch them kill someone and yet you were getting wet at the thought of them calling you kitten. It didn't help that they were insanely attractive, Felix's muscles could be seen through the thin white shirt he was wearing and Minho's ass looked like he worked out an awful lot. You blinked, ignoring the growing wetness that was pooling between your legs. 

"Look at that, we haven't said one suggestive comment and you're squeezing your little thighs together," Minho chuckled as he reached a red light, turning to look at you from the front seat and licking his lips at the sight of you. Completely innocent and sitting there rubbing your legs together as if that was going to give you any kind of satisfaction that you were desperately craving. 

"My guess is she's going to go home and touch herself to the thought of us," Minho teased as he began to drive once again, watching Felix as he turned to look at you. His eyes locking with you as he reached behind to rub your knee softly. 

"I mean she doesn't have to think of us, we could do it for you princess." The car stopped outside your dorm but you made no attempt to move as the car was shut off. 

"Would you like that?" Minho questioned turning his body to look at you. The need to press your thighs together built up but Felix kept them apart, licking his lips as he waited for you to answer the question. A finger trailed up and down your knee and you shuddered, 

"Yes! Yes...Yes, I would like that," You spoke loudly as you stared at both of them, the two exchanged a smirk with one another before climbing out of the car and holding your door open.

"Then who are we to let a pretty little kitten go home needy," Felix growled in your ear, holding your arm as you all walked in the direction of your dorm room.

Neither of them wasted time when they got into your room, attaching their lips to either side of your neck as you let out small whimpers of pleasure. You could already feel each of them smirking against your skin, Felix's hands around your waist while Minho kept his on your breasts, massaging them softly with his hands whenever you would whimper. 

"Here we thought you were the good girl," Minho whispered making you jerk away from him, 

"I'm not. I'm sick of people saying that to me," You spat at him your eyes locking with his as he tilted his head to the side, a smug look on his face. 

"Prove it to me," Without another word you pushed him down onto your bed sinking to your knees in front of him. You pulled down the jeans he was wearing discarding them behind you, forgetting about Felix behind you until he laid down on the floor. 

"Up," He ordered, you rose to your knees and he slid under you so his breath was right against your core. 

"Looks pretty," He whispered referencing the bright pink thong you had worn under your dress that night, 

"But it needs to go." One snapping sound later and you felt a cool breeze on your core,

"Dripping wet Minho, you should see her." A finger began to trace along your folds making your hips jolt forward, 

"So wet, pretty and-" A small kiss was placed on your clit and your eyes widened, 

"Tastes define." Felix moaned out in a deep voice, you whimpered looking at Minho. 

"The confidence seems to have faded from you kitten," You ignored him pulling his cock free from his boxer and smirking at the length. He was larger than you expected but you slowly pumped him in one hand, looking up at him smugly as he jerked. Minho shifted a little, leaning back against the bed letting his elbow prop him up. Running your fingers over the indent under the head of his cock your smirk grew wider as he moaned out.

"Good girl," He breathed out as your tongue began to caress him, swirling around the head of his cock before you took him into your warm mouth pumping your head back and forth while your other hand rested on his thigh. 

"My turn," Felix whispered pulling you to sit down on his face as you let out a moan around Minho's cock who seemed to moan out in pleasure. Hollowing out your cheeks you ran your tongue over the indent you'd found earlier and he cried out gripping onto the sheets around him. 

"Oh shit!" You moaned out as you could feel Felix's tongue running through your folds while he worked two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to meet your g-spot making you cry out again. 

Minho thrust up into your mouth as you took him back, moving your head faster this time setting his whole body aflame. Each thrust of your head caused his whole body to stiffen and he looked at you, holding your face as he began to thrust a little more. You smirked around him nodding at him to let him know it was okay and he slowly began to thrust into your mouth. 

"S-Shit she likes that Hyung, clenching around my tongue." Felix chuckled as he continued to eat you out aggressively as you rode his face, your hips bucking little by little as you felt an orgasm beginning to build up inside of you. Minho thrust up once more before his whole body shook and he let out a moan of your name, cumming into your mouth as he rolled his head back. You swallowed every last drop and focused on the pleasure Felix was giving to you, gripping onto the bed as you rocked your hips in time with his licks. 

"So pretty when your face contorts like that," Minho chuckled as he began kissing you softly, holding your neck in his hand lightly as he forced you to look at him, 

"Do you like this? Two strangers fucking you?" You nodded as you let out a choked moan, pulsating around Felix's fingers as he continued to thrust them into you at a rough pace. 

"Cumming!" You screamed out as your hips continued to buck as your orgasm ripped through you, your legs shaking as you tried to stay upright on your knees instead of falling to the floor the way you wanted to. 

"Y/n?" Felix whispered as he pulled himself into a sitting position, watching you as you ripped your dress off from your body, you were ready and you needed one of them inside of you. Now.

Lips met yours over and over again as Minho pulled you up onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard as you straddled his lap. Kissing him wherever you could, lips, neck, collarbone, anywhere you could get your lips on him. Felix sat behind you naked, his cock pressed against your ass as you let out a whine. 

"Still so wet," Felix chuckled as he teased your entrance with two fingers, meanwhile Minho had worked his fingers down to your clit circling slowly. 

"Holy fuck," You breathed out as your head fell forward to rest on top of Minho's. Your brain was in a fog as they continued to tease you with their fingers until Felix sank two inside of you and Minho applied the pressure that made you cry out pushing your hips back into Felix. 

A third finger was added and your whole body felt as though it was on fire, your fingernails dug into Minho's arms as you cried out a mixture of both of their names. 

"Someone is ready for us," Minho chuckled as they removed their fingers making you whimper at the sudden lack of touch from either of them. Felix moved to the edge of the bed and sat in the same position Minho had before. 

"On the floor kitten," He whispered as you got onto your knees in front of him, this time Minho sat behind you with his cock at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing. 

"You sure?" You ignored the stupid question as you sank down onto Minho's cock crying out as you adjusted to the size of him. 

"That..Oh shit...That's a yes Felix," Minho moaned out as he held onto your thighs, grunting at the tight feeling as you wrapped around his cock. Smirking to yourself you looked up at Felix, taking him into your mouth and began to bob your head as you had done with Minho. The two men moaning out in pleasure as you controlled them, moving your hips up and down at a slow pace just to torture Minho that little bit more. 

"Fuck," Minho's hands gripped onto your waist and he thrust up harder and faster into you, his breathing jagged as he moaned out your name. Felix's cock twitched into your mouth as you began to roll your tongue around the head of his cock, reaching your hand down between your thighs to circle your clit. 

Fire was beginning to build in your stomach with both moans from men titling you over the edge. 

"Just like that," Felix cried out as you moved your head in time with Minho's fast thrust. The room filled with wet sounds and slapping skin as you cried out around Felix's length. Felix's hand rested on your cheek as he began to thrust into your mouth, grunting as he came down your throat holding you around him until his hips stopped jerking. 

"M-Minho! I-I’m cumming! I-I’m cumming!" You screamed out as he continued his sinfully fast thrusts until he came into you touching you deeply as your head rolled back against his chest. Clenching onto anything you could get your hands on, screaming out his name. Cumming around him as you pulsated in pure bliss, your whole body felt as though it was shaking. 

Minho smirked as you slept in his shirt, they'd managed to clean you up with a warm wet cloth and got you into bed. 

"Poor thing must be exhausted," He smirked running his fingers over your face as your frowned in deep slumber. 

"That was a nice reward though for finishing our job," Felix laughed as he looked at your body, you were curled up in a small clutching onto the sheets and he smiled. 

"We should get going, paperwork to report and all that," Minho mumbled grabbing a hoodie from your wardrobe as he turned to leave.

The morning you woke up images of what had happened flashed before you and if it hadn't been for the achiness between your thighs. You would have thought it a dream and yet, you were laying there in a shirt that wasn't yours and a note beside your bed,

Until next time Curious Kitten x 

Written at the bottom of the note were two numbers with the boy's initials by the side of them, you clutched the note against your chest as you laid back. Enjoying the memories of the night before. 

Tagline: @minholuvs​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ 

#skz #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #minho #minho x reader #minho smut #minho imagine #minho imagines #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know imagine #lee know imagines #lee know smut #felix #felix x reader #felix imagine #felix smut #felix imagines #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix imagine #lee felix imagines

[mypoisonedvine]

sleepover submission: you already know my ass is soft for bunny and mobius - and i’m curious to know what their first time was like 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

for those who don't know, bunny is the reader in my fic 'loop' so give it a read if you want the context, but since this is a prequel it isn't actually required lmao

warnings for smut (obv, with daddy kink and thigh riding) and alcohol consumption, other than that just wholesome awkwardness

Honestly, from the start you knew going out for happy hour after work was sort of a bad idea, because you knew you were agreeing to go for all the wrong reasons. The most wrong reason? Easily your crush on your boss, Mobius.

And you weren't even being subtle about it, either: not after you'd gotten a few drinks in you at least. You kept glancing at him from across the bar, just waiting for him to come talk to you but also hoping that he wouldn't because you knew if he did, you would make a fool of yourself.

"Hey," he finally greeted as he joined you, looking down at you with a little smile as you shyly stared at your drink.

"Hey," you returned.

"I have to admit, I came here with a question for you," he began. "Whaddaya keep lookin' at me for?"

You felt your cheeks warm slightly. "Oh, that? I just like your tie, I wonder where you got it."

"It's standard issue," he nodded. "You have one too."

"Right," you remembered.

"But I like that you wear the dresses instead," he smiled, reaching down to rub the hem of your sleeve for a moment, his fingers brushing against your arm. Your heart was already racing just from this. Was he flirting? You couldn't tell, but you licked your lips slightly and looked up at him again. "You could pull off the shirt and tie, if you wanted."

"Could I pull them off of you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, and you loved the way he coughed a little and glanced away, his own cheeks getting a bit pink.

"Uh, yeah, that too," he decided as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, if we left now, and we shared a cab home, would you wanna-- and this is just a hypothetical-- stop by my place?"

So, with an innocuous excuse to your fellow coworkers, you and Mobius took a car to his apartment; it was really nice, actually, not just because it was more expensive than yours but because it was also expertly decorated (if a bit minimalist).

"Cool records," you noticed as he went to get you both some more drinks.

"Thanks," he hummed, and you walked over to the shelf as your heels clicked on his tile floor.

"Do you have a favorite era?" you asked as you started to thumb through the albums, noticing lots of bands you recognized and even more that you didn't.

"Mm, tie between 1540 and 1970," he decided.

"I always thought the 1540s were underrated musically," you joked.

"Put something on, if you want," he offered. "Maybe not the 1540s stuff, though... not exactly the mood I'm going for."

"Maybe it's the mood I'm going for!" you protested, making him laugh as he sat on the couch behind you, setting two whiskey glasses on the glass table in front of him. But you ultimately decided against it, finding a Fleetwood Mac album and letting that play softly instead, seeing him nod as you walked slowly to join him on the couch.

"Nice choice," he praised, but he blinked quickly when instead of sitting beside him, you straddled his legs and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Oh," he sighed.

"Is this okay?" you asked softly.

"Yeah, more than okay," he nodded, reaching out carefully to rest his hands on your legs as if he was worried it might offend you; but the warmth of his hands on your bare skin just made you sigh in relief.

It was you that leaned in first to kiss him, but he deepened it right away, reaching up with one hand at the back of your neck as he sat up and sighed slightly against your lips. Fuck, he was a good kisser; you'd already had a bit of a thing for his lips because that damn moustache was always there drawing attention to them, and they felt better than you even imagined.

So, you really couldn't help yourself when you started to rock your hips slightly, rubbing yourself against his khakis; with your dress on, it meant only your panties protected your pussy as it started to get so much wetter than it had any right to be.

"Look at you," he cooed, smiling playfully and pulling back from the kiss to glance down at your hips as they moved. "Rubbing yourself on me like a needy little bunny."

You started to slow down, but he grabbed your hips and guided you to continue.

"No no, don't stop, it's cute," he grinned. "It suits you actually: bunny. Can I call you that?"

"Only if I can call you something," you bargained.

"My friends call me Mo--"

"Daddy," you finished instead, making his expression barely move and yet change completely. You smiled as soon as you saw the look in his eyes; Daddy's home.

He kissed you again, rough and fierce and deliciously dominating, continuing to guide you to grind on his thigh. You just went along with it, running your fingers through his hair and moaning every time your clit got stimulation, but it still wasn't enough. You hastily reached down to work his belt, and he gasped a bit as he pulled back from the kiss.

"Are we... really gonna do this?" he breathed.

"If you want to," you answered softly.

"Fuck, are you kidding? I've wanted this for ages," he laughed a little. "I just-- I wasn't sure if we should."

"Oh, we shouldn't," you agreed, "but we're going to."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly, watching enraptured as you reached into his pants. "Yeah, we are, aren't we?"

This time it was you that nodded, kissing him again as you wrapped your hand around his hard cock and pulled it out.

He seemed a bit confused when you got up and stepped back, but he smiled as you reached under your dress to shimmy out of your panties, kicking them away and starting to get back on top of him, but he stopped you: "No, take the dress off, too-- I wanna see all of you," he instructed, not especially demanding but just as dominating as he watched you with a small smirk and his hand lazily stroking his cock.

You stripped for him, realizing that he would still be fully dressed while you were naked which was something you hadn't even known would turn you on. It certainly hadn't before, but right now it made your thighs clench together instinctively.

When you straddled him again, he looked up at you with the most fascinating (and fascinated) look in his face; you guided his cock to your entrance and slowly sank down, moaning loudly at the stretch.

"Fuck," he whispered, tightening his grip on your hips as you took him all the way inside you. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you answered, though the hoarseness of your voice made it unconvincing. "It's been a while..."

"Can't imagine why," he smiled slightly, "you're such a pretty girl, everybody must want you..."

"Yeah, maybe they do, but I've only got eyes for this one guy," you explained, gripping his shoulders to balance yourself and waiting for the sting to fade so you could move. "Problem is, he's my boss."

"I bet he wants you too," Mobius nodded. "I bet he thinks about you every night, dreams about having you all to himself."

"Then he should've told me," you smiled, finally moving on top of him as his head fell back against the top of the couch.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he hissed, and you reached up to loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, reaching inside to rub his chest and collarbone under the fabric. "You... you were talking about me, right?"

"Yes," you laughed. But when you said it again, it was in an entirely different way: "yes..."

You gasped when he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your back, pinning you to the couch and beginning to thrust quickly into you.

"Fuck!" you yelped, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down by his tie for a sloppy and hungry kiss.

Of course, it wasn't too much later that you came, but what was really surprising was the second time that you came. And before it had even really hit you, the third made you think you might pass out before he was done with you...

"Daddy," you whimpered, eyes rolling back in your head.

"C'mon bunny, you can give me one more, right? You just look so pretty when you come on my cock," he encouraged.

"Oh fuck," you sobbed, "daddy, daddy, daddy..."

"Just let go, baby," he breathed through his teeth, "fuck, I'm close, too. Can I come inside you?"

"Please," you begged, arching your back as the first wave of a third orgasm washed over you, "oh fuck, daddy, I'm coming!"

"I know, bunny, me too," he groaned, "fuck!"

He stopped moving suddenly, your walls clenching around him still as you felt him fill you, your chest heaving with each panting breath that didn't seem to do much to actually let you catch it.

He collapsed beside you, the couch just barely big enough to fit you both as you laid there together, basking in the afterglow of what you'd just done.

"So, your friends call you Mo?" you asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"I was gonna say Moby, you interrupted me," he chuckled.

"I like Mo better," you decided.

"Yeah, me too," he nodded.

#agent mobius x reader #mobius m mobius x reader #agent mobius smut #mobius m mobius smut #saturday night sleepover

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman #marvel #peter parker angst

[ericspinkhair]

unexpectedly becoming a sugar baby

pairing: ceo!sunwoo x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: reader is desperate for money so she has sex with her boss

warnings: lots of oral and fingering, use of vibrator in public , office sex, sex for money

a/n: wrote this yesterday instead of studying for my final. the exam went well tho :) also please send in requests!!!

masterlist + requests

to say you were desperate would be an understatement. today you had received an eviction notice that stated that you had exactly 30 days to either pay back all the money you owed your landlord or leave your apartment.

due to your mother's illness you had to pay for all her medical bills. your father hadn't been in the picture for a long time so you alone were responsible for your mother's health. you couldn't just let her die. but because of all these costs you hadn't been able to pay your rent and now you were on the verge of homelessness.

never in a lifetime did you imagine that you would be begging someone for help. you felt so helpless that you honestly didn't really care how you got the money.

you decided to ask your boss for a raise and were prepared to work your ass off in order to get it.

mr. kim's office was on the fourth floor of the company, one you barely had ever been to. normal employees were usually only to be found on the lower floors so taking the elevator up felt wrong.

you were determined, however, to not let your pride get in the way. the money was more important than how you felt.

you knocked on the door twice. as if to make you feel even more nervous, it seemed like mr. kim waited extra long to respond.

when you entered he was sitting behind his desk. he didn't even look up at you so you just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

'why don't you just sit?' he finally asked annoyed and closed his laptop.

you quickly took a seat and tried to put up a professional front.

'what can I do for you, um…' 'y/n,' you helped him out. 'right, y/n. what can I do for you?' he asked.

'I would like to ask for a raise, sir. you see, I am usually the first employee to enter the building and also most of the time the last one to leave. I do my work reliably and deliver solid results. my coworkers are pleased with me and we also get along well. I think I contribute a lot to this company and wanted to ask whether it would be possible to raise my pay.' you really tried to not make it seem like you had simply memorized all of this and forced yourself to speak slowly but firmly while looking him in the eyes.

mr. kim didn't respond at first but opened his laptop.

'to my understanding you have been working here for a very long time already. your pay is already the highest it can get. there is no way for me to raise it because there is no room for improvement.' he sighed and waited for your reaction.

you started sweating. this wasn't going as planned. you hadn't known that you were already receiving the highest pay. you were barely able to afford food with your current money.

'please, sir. I will do anything you ask of me. I don't care how many extra hours I'd have to work. I can do it. I promise. please give me a chance,' you begged him.

he was intrigued by you. why were you so desperate for the money?

'first, why don't you tell me why you are so keen on a raise?'

was your boss even allowed to ask you such personal questions? you answered anyway.

'my mother has cancer. I am the only person paying for her medical expenses and the treatments are all very expensive. I am about to get evicted because I cannot pay my rent.'

he seemed to be deep in thought. his gaze on you was intense.

your heart skipped a beat when he placed his hand on yours.

'y/n, I'm extremely sorry that you have to deal with all of this. I wouldn't want anyone to have to experience the same thing. believe me when I tell you that I want to help you. you know what? come back tomorrow. I have an idea how I might be able to help but I need to think about it further. would that be alright for you?'

it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. you didn't care about what you had to do. you stood up, bowed deeply and thanked him over and over.

he let out a deep chuckle. you were cute.

the next day you came back again in the afternoon. this time he answered the door quicker and his attention was focused on you from the start. the energy felt much different than the day before. he seemed excited and was smiling at you. this had to mean good news, right? he shook your hand and pressed firmly while looking you deep in the eyes.

'y/n, I came up with an idea to help you. but it is less conventional and it depends on how much you are willing to do.'

'mr. kim, I will do anything,' you assured him. the smirk he flashed you threw you off guard.

'okay then. first, I'd prefer it if you called me sunwoo as we'll be seeing more of each other if you were to agree.'

this lowkey felt like crossing some boundaries but you wanted to please him.

you nodded eagerly. 'okay, sunwoo it is.'

'so my idea is that there are certain things you can do to earn money. I will pay for everything with my own savings and you will receive it in cash. we will start off easy and over time I'll add new tasks. of course, you have the freedom to choose whether you want to do them or not. that is completely up to you.'

the look of confusion on your face must have told him you didn't fully understand.

'it's hard to explain. I'd rather you figure it out by trying it. since today is friday, the task I'll give you is for monday. I would like to choose an outfit for you. I'll send it to your apartment and you have to wear exactly what is inside the box. if you were to do this I'd give you $20 cash.'

that was a weird request. why would he want to decide what you were wearing? did he not like your outfit? did you look disgusting?

'let me get this straight. you pick an outfit for me and if I decide to wear it I get money?' you ask him to see if you had understood correctly.

'exactly. that doesn't seem so bad, right?' you shook your head. it was whatever.

'that's great. you'll receive your outfit and I can't wait to see you in it on monday.' you didn't know if you were imagining it but it seemed like he was eyeing your body. h god, he definitely didn't like what you were wearing.

$20 wasn't much but still more than nothing. and apparently the other tasks would be worth more. guess you had to start somewhere. with the money you could at least afford something to eat.

you say goodbye and continued with work until it was time to leave.

you waited anxiously all weekend for the clothes. sunday you decided to go for a walk and when you opened your door you almost tripped over a package.

on monday morning you tried on the outfit sunwoo had picked out for you.

the white blouse was a bit see through and a bit too tight around the boob area but looked neat otherwise. the black skirt hugged your curves perfectly and made you look quite sexy in your opinion. he even picked out a bra, underwear, stockings and high heels for you. the note he had left clearly stated to wear exactly and only what was in the box. so you did.

you usually wore something more simple and loose but you didn't feel too uncomfortable in this look.

when you entered his office his eyes lit up.

'I'm glad you wore this. it looks very good on you.'

you were sure you blushed a bit at his words. you weren't really used to receiving compliments from men.

'I like it too,' you admit. sunwoo smiled contentedly.

'so would you like to do the same tomorrow? I'll send you another outfit,' he asked you.

this one wasn't bad at all so you agreed. he handed you $20. when you stood up and walked out the door he couldn't stop admiring the way your butt looked in the skirt. tomorrow was going to be even better.

the blouse was almost the same one. however, this time the skirt was a lot shorter. it ended at the middle of your thighs. but that wasn't even the weirdest thing. this time he had forgotten to send you panties.

you felt very unsure what to do. the note clearly stated to only wear what was in the box.

you sighed and pulled down the skirt as much as you could. this would have to do. as long as you were just sitting, everything would be fine.

you went about your day and some time in the afternoon you were called into sunwoo's office.

you were wondering whether or not to tell him about the missing underwear but decided to keep your mouth closed. panties didn't seem to be a topic to talk about with your boss.

'today, I want to offer you an additional task. you will receive your $20 dollars for sure and you can make another 30 by cleaning my office. what do you think?' he proposed to you.

that would be $50 in total. you needed all the money you could get.

'of course. just tell me what to clean and I will be happy to help.'

everything was going according to sunwoo's plan. he was excited and told you you could start by dusting the shelves.

your eagerness was cute and he watched you out of the corner of his eyes.

some of the shelves were higher up so you had to stretch to be able to reach them. when you did your skirt rolled up higher and he was able to see the just the outline of your butt cheeks. he unconsciously licked his lips.

for the rest of the week you continued these two tasks. but you noticed that the underwear kept on missing and the skirts also progressively became shorter.

this was a struggle when you were cleaning and organizing his office. you were aware of your skirt rolling up and you were hoping that sunwoo wouldn't notice.

of course he did. that had been his intention all along. when you bent down he could sometimes get a glance at your pretty pussy. he couldn't help but get hard at the sight of this and palmed his bulge through his pants.

in one week you had received $220. you would have been more happy if you hadn't gotten another bill from the hospital asking you for another $1200. the health care system was simply fucked up. whatever the next tasks were, you had to do them.

on monday you were cleaning his office again. you wanted to pick up some files but you struggled reaching them from the highest shelf. you felt your skirt roll up again.

'wait. I'll help you,' sunwoo announced and walked over.

you gasped as you felt something hard poke your thigh as he stood behind you to reach for the files. when he took a step back you saw the clear outlines of his hardened cock.

unable to hide your surprise, sunwoo laughed.

'this is all your doing.' so he did notice your skirt roll up. wait. had he given you these clothes with this in mind?

'do you want to touch it?' he asked.

you just blinked at him. what? were you perhaps still dreaming? it was possible that you were having a wet dream about your boss. sunwoo was very handsome and you had to be blind not to notice.

'if you help me get rid of it, I'll promise you $100.' he knew you were thinking hard. you couldn't keep your eyes off his bulge, clearly not sure what to think of this.

this was against all the work protocols but you would kid yourself if you said that you didn't want to. not only was he very attractive but you'd do a lot for a mere $100.

you reached for his belt. sunwoo smirked; he had won.

you pulled his pants down and were immediately greeted with his veiny cock.

'you aren't the only one not wearing any underwear, my dear y/n.'

so that had been intentional. interesting. you realized you must have been very naive to have believed that he had simply forgotten to put panties in the boxes.

you started by rubbing the tip softly with your thumb. it was pretty and pink and already leakined pre-cum.

you felt strangely good about having this kind of effect on someone. with a few pumps his dick was completely hard.

sunwoo propped his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back in bliss.

deep moans were escaping his beautifully luscious lips while you were pleasuring him with your hands.

you decided to put your left hand you use as well by massaging his balls.

'fuck! when did you learn to do this so well?' sunwoo groaned.

during high school you had had a lot of sex. it made you feel good and you enjoyed it. now your experience turned out to be lifesaving to you. well, he'd probably pay you even if you weren't as mind blowing.

'hmm, practice,' you simply state.

'if this is already so good I wonder what your mouth can do, baby girl.' being called that aroused you way more than expected. this was so exciting.

'I'll give you another $100 if you suck me off.'

before sunwoo knew it you had already wrapped your lips around his cock. you skillfully bobbed your head up and down. when you looked up at him with big eyes he swore he was about to explode.

with most of the dick in your mouth your other hand was continuing to knead his balls.

he was coming close quickly and grabbed your hair so you would stay still.

he proceeded to fuck your mouth harshly. you felt spit running down the sides of your lips and tears escaping your eyes as he buried his cock deep in your mouth. you tried to relax in order to deep-throat him properly.

he came hard and emptied his load in your mouth. to prove a point, you swallowed it and then opened up to show him.

panting hard he said: 'fuck you're just amazing!'

you looked absolutely delicious with your face full of cum. he had a good feeling you were the right person to do this with.

you licked off some of the white liquid from your lips and smirked at him.

this was definitely not what you had expected what you would be doing but you weren't one to complain.

sunwoo quickly disappeared to search for some paper towels to clean your face. his employees couldn't see you like this.

after your face was clean again he handed you $250. 'you deserve it.' 'thanks.'

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned closer. 'maybe we can do more tomorrow.' ooh, sounds exciting.

'then I'll look forward to seeing you.' with a wink you left.

you wondered how much money you would get for some sexy time with your boss.

the next morning, you couldn't fully button up the blouse he had sent you. the top buttons had to be left open and a lot of cleavage was visible. this horndog!

this time you actually received some underwear but only for a special reason. you found a pink mini vibrator in the box as well.

so you were walking around with a vibrating stick up your pussy. you didn't want to come in front of your co-workers so you turned it off whenever you got too close and waited to calm down.

'did you have fun today?' was the first thing sunwoo said to you.

you laughed ironically. 'I had so much fun pretending I wasn't being masturbating in front of everyone…'

he made you turn around and lifted up your skirt. the outline of the vibrator was visible and he could see your panties shaking.

with one quick move he pulled your underwear down and took the vibrator to turn it off. it came out with a wet plop and juices were running down your thighs.

sunwoo surprised you by sucking on the wet vibrator.

'sit on the desk,' he commanded you.

you did as you were told and sunwoo spread your legs wide apart.

he inserted his index and middle finger which slipped in with ease. your pussy made wet noises as he pushed them in and out of you.

finally having privacy you allowed yourself to make sounds. he made intense eye contact while fingering you, loving the way your face was scrunched up in pleasure.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and started kissing him. his tongue easily won the fight over dominance and started exploring your mouth.

you two were basically just sucking each others faces off until he broke off the kiss and lowered his body. he attached his mouth to your clit and started sucking. you pulled at his hair in pleasure and had a hard time controlling your breathing. damn, he was skilled at this as well.

when he felt you clenching around his fingers he withdrew them and you let out a disappointed noise of protest.

'don't worry. you'll have more soon.', he laughed at you. he quickly took off his pants and pulled you off the desk. he turned you around so your ass was facing him.

he started rubbing his thick cock between your ass cheeks and coated it in your juices. every time he got into contact with your tense pussy a shudder overcame your body.

he lifted your leg and placed your foot on the table. the angle from when he thrusted into you from behind was just perfect.

sunwoo attached his lips onto your neck and started leaving hickeys there. at the same time he was kneading your breast through your shirt.

he had barely ever felt such a perfect pussy around his cock. the way you took him in seemed too good to be true.

while his dick was still inside you, he lifted you up and placed you on all fours on the floor.

he grabbed your hips so tightly that he left red marks on them. at this point, he was just uncontrollably slamming into you while you were losing your mind. you were screaming his name loudly, glad that you knew no one could hear you.

as you could feel both of you getting close, he pulled your upper body up to his chest and wrapped one hand around your neck.

the pressure he applied was just enough for you to see stars but not enough for it to be unpleasant.

the lack of oxygen stimulated your senses even more and while repeatedly screaming out sunwoo's name you finally came hard on his dick.

with a few more thrusts, sunwoo's hips started stuttering as well and he shot his load into you. while riding out your highs he was just fucking his cum right back into you.

when he finally pulled out, a pool of his semen started dripping out of you. you suddenly felt so empty. his thick cock had filled you up so good that you were already missing it.

while you were still catching your breath on the floor, sunwoo had gone to get paper towels.

when he came back, however, he seemed hectic.

'I'm so sorry. there has been an emergency and I need to leave right now. I'll leave these here as well as the money.' he placed everything on the desk and walked back to the door.

he turned around one last time. 'I hope we can do this again.' he smiled at you.

you later saw that he had left you $750.

kind of becoming a sugar baby had never been your plan but you didn't mind it. if only the circumstances had been better.

#kim sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #the boyz sunwoo smut #the boyz sunwoo scenario #kim sunwoo #smut #kpop smut #the boyz

[cafeacademia]

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

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A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game  of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow​ @megantje123​ @anchoeritic​ @struggling-bee​​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

[mountswhore]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 — mason mount

summary: after your breakup, mason realises just how much you need him. and how much he needs you too.

warnings: mentions of drinking, slight mentions of drugs, swearing, angst

requests are open!

It had been a month since your breakup, and you were at an all time low. But you couldn’t let Mason or anyone else know that. Luckily, you lived alone. So you had your own flat to mope about in, before painting on your fake smile and leaving for whatever errands you had that day. Your breakup was… unfair. Mason treated you like a toy, thinking he could just drop you and then pick you up just as quick. But you weren’t having it anymore.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you laughed in disbelief at the words your boyfriend was spewing, “you’re really doing this to me, again?” Mason just stood with a stone cold face in front of you, in the comfort of his own living room.

“Y/N, believe me when I say I didn’t want to do this.” Mason consoled, taking a step forward. “You’re a distraction to my career, I barely see you. What would be the point of this anymore?” His words were like bullets, your chest full of holes and you were bleeding on the floor. But Mason was just staring back at you.

“I’m a distraction to your career. Lovely.” You mentioned, pushing past him and grabbing your bag from the stairs. Mason tried to stop you, he wanted to talk this out. “For the love of God, stop trying to hold me back. What is there to say? Or do you just want to ease your conscience? If you’re going to break up with me, be a man and own it. Leave me alone.”

With that you left, and you hadn’t spoken since.

You were going to meet a good friend for lunch, a WAG, but your breakup with Mason didn’t affect your friendship. She was adamant on it, saying, “just because Mason dumped your fine ass, doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with you. He’ll just have to deal with it.” You’d gone to your usual place, waiting in the foyer for her before booking a table together.

“How’ve you been, doll?” Abigail asked, putting her bag down beside her. “You know, considering.” You nodded, putting your fake smile to good use.

You let out a small giggle. “Good, yeah. I’ve been focusing on my work, which I should’ve been doing from the jump. I think I’m really making progress.” Abigail just nodded and smiled.

She didn’t seem the least bit frightened to say what she said, as she’d heard how you felt. “Good, because you’re coming to a party this weekend.”

“What?”

“A party.”

“Yeah I heard you,” you groaned, “are we sixteen- years old? Or am I just growing quicker than the rest of you?”

“Oh shh,” Abigail sighed, digging into her food that had now arrived with yours. Every time you came here, she got the carbonara. “Look, you said you’re making progress, and I want to have fun with my best friend again. And if I’m honest, all the other girls just aren’t as good of a laugh as you.”

“Thanks for the ego boost.” You added, smiling a genuine smile at her. You were still thinking heavily about this party, where was it? When was it? Who was going?

“Clear your weekend. It’s this Saturday, at some private lounge in London.” Abigail stated, twirling her fork once again. “It’s the England squad celebrating something or another, I don’t know. Dec told me about it.” The reason the pair of you were so close, was mainly because of your boyfriends being so close. Declan knew that his girlfriend was still friends with you and planned on keeping that, he’d always ask about you.

“Right. I’ll see if I can work overtime on Thursday to make up for my weekend off.” You mentioned.

So it was settled. You’d be going to a party with Abigail and the England squad. You weren’t the least bit excited, the only fraction you were was purely because you’d be seeing Abigail. You had your dress, you’d worked your overtime, and you were on your way to this private lounge in London. No matter how nice looking this lounge was, you’d always feel out of place. You were wearing your nicest dress, tallest heels, and Abigail had even done your hair and makeup.

“How are you, Y/N? You doing okay?” Declan asked, in the seat beside Abigail. You were sharing a taxi, Abi in the middle. Both you and Dec on either end. It was quite awkward, to see Declan. To know that he still speaks to Mason.

“Yeah, I’m doing good. How’s football going for you?” You asked. You despised small talk, it make you want to throw up. But it was only being polite to Dec. Declan mumbled a similar answer and paid attention to his phone. A text from Abigail appeared.

I don’t think she’s okay.

Declan wrote back to his girlfriend: I was thinking the same thing.

The three had gotten to the private lounge, Abi promising to not leave your side. You spent the first hour with her, constantly drinking to increase your confidence. Abi had finally left you, like you knew she would, but you weren’t mad. She’s here for her boyfriend, it’s only right she spends it with him. So now you were the loner at the bar, downing shot after shot.

Mason was sulking around like a shadow, holding tightly onto his mixer and speaking to some of his teammates. He’s not even sure why he came, all he knew was Declan forced him. And yet Declan had barely spoke to to him all evening. His mixer was empty, so he made his third beeline for the bar this evening. And saw you.

His heart had began beating irregularly, clammy hands almost dropping the cup he had. Why was he so nervous to see the ex he dumped? Luckily, you were occupied with talking to Jesse, so he could quickly grab his drink and leave. He found himself staring at you during his wait, how you laughed so genuinely with Jesse. You always did. He was one of your closest friends and now talking to him felt awkward because of your breakup. You looked at Jesse so happily, he wished it was him. It was a stupid thing to wish, considering he dumped you.

What had dumping you even done for him?

“Mount. Whatever the hell has happened to you outside of training, undo it. You’re off today.”

“Mase, why haven’t you been as on par as you usually are?”

“You keep playing like this and you’re being benched next game.”

Nothing. The answer was nothing. He was told he wasn’t playing well, saw you as an issue and dumped you. And now he plays worse. He’d been benched on his second game, overlooked by his manager due to his lack of focus in training. It was horrible. But you told him to leave you alone, he could never forget the look on your face. The look of exhaustion, of being dumped and picked back up again.

Mason had zoned back in, seeing you looking at him rather lazily. You looked drunk, high, or both. Jesse had gone, and you were throwing the shots back. You made it a game. Every time you had a good Mason thought, you’d have a shot. If it was bad, or any thought at all, you’d be having your stomach pumped by the end of the night.

Mason watched the bartender pour straight vodka into your cup, and then watched you stagger away to the stairs. The stairs led up to toilets, and were empty and quiet. Perfect. You collapsed onto the stairs, still sipping on your vodka before laying your head onto a step. You didn’t know Mason had followed you until you felt his hands on your arms.

“Come on, we’re going home.” He declared, holding you around your waist. You frowned at him, trying your best to use your half-working limbs to push him away from you.

“We’re? No, you are going home. I’m staying here.” You slurred, downing the rest of your drink and throwing the cup at his head. You laughed at the face he made, finally freeing you and you returned to your seat on the stairs. “You aren’t my dad, or my boss, or my friend. So leave me alone.”

“You’re off your face. So you’re going home.” He reaffirmed with you, folding his arms. You just shook your head again, looking up at him. You were having good Mason thoughts again, seeing just his face stare down at you. It made you want to cry and throw up.

“Get me a drink.” Mason left after your instructions, returning with a cup. You had downed it, waiting for the warm throat and slight burn. But nothing. “Not water, you asshole.” Mason kept a stone cold face with you, resting against the wall beside the door. Nobody had come into the toilet and you wished they had now. You needed someone to save you from happy Mason thoughts.

“So how is football? You must be scoring goals left and right.” You jested, tipping your head back and laughing. “Right?” Mason sat down beside you in defeat, knowing this wouldn’t be an easy conversation with you. It would end in you crying, or leaving, or both.

“No, actually.” Mason admitted. “I’m doing rubbish. My friends know I’m off my game, the gaffer knows I’m off my game. It’s atrocious.” You stared at him, kind of feeling bad but then remembering what he did to you. All those times he’d break up with you, just to say he missed you a few days later. If you were being honest with yourself, you thought it would happen again. But a month had passed, and nothing.

“Oh.” It was all you could say. Knowing what he did was for no reason, it had no benefits whatsoever. Your life had been completely thrown out of balance for nothing. It made you mad all over again. “So you’re telling me you broke up with me, and nothing good came of it?”

Mason hated to admit it. “Yes.” He spoke quietly, ashamed of the answer he was putting out there. “I was actually told to fix whatever happened outside of training, in an effort to make me better again.” You should be laughing in his face, glad he’s been royally fucked over after he royally fucked you over. But instead, you held your hands to your face to hide your tears.

“Hey,” Mason hushed, pulling you into his side. He knew you’d had a lot to drink, so maybe your emotions were all over the place, “don’t cry about it, you don’t need to be upset.” Why was he being like this? He broke up with you, why did he care how you were now?

“What’s happened to us?” You cried, pulling away from him. Just because you were at a low, doesn’t mean he can swoop in. “Ever since we broke up, it seems our lives have been shit.”

Mason laughed through the pain, resting his elbows on the step behind him. He’d tried to avoid his feelings instead of confront them, but it proved difficult when you had showed up. “I might be benched for the next game, or better yet, be taken from the squad.”

You shook your head. No matter how much you hated him at this very point, you couldn’t deny the man’s talent. “You deserve that spot on the team. There’s a reason you start for England every time. Don’t doubt yourself because something bad happened to you.”

Mason took your words and remembered them, keeping them in his head for the rest of the night. “Come here.” He put an arm around you and held you tight, sighing as your heads rested together. “I’m sorry I did this to you. I shouldn’t have left you, I had issues with myself and saw you as the problem instead. I’m really sorry.”

“I just don’t think I can take it again.” You confessed, laying your head in his lap and keeping your eyes closed. “I can’t take being broken up with again, only for you to end up in my bed a few days later. It hurts me everytime, Mase.” Mason was rubbing your back, hating himself for the way he made you feel before. And he hadn’t seen an issue with it, he treated you like it was okay to use you as an emotional rag doll.

“You don’t have to jump straight into it,” he whispered, hands now smoothing your hair out of your face, “you can take as long as you need to trust me again. But I’m telling you it’ll never happen again, I’ll never throw you about like I did before. It was reckless of me and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Mase.” You sighed, the weight finally freeing your chest. You could finally move forward with your life, and choose whether or not to take Mason with you. It wasn’t an answer you needed to know now, it could take it’s time. And Mason was willing to wait.

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